#does this count as slow burn? do i need to update with that???

[ahundredtimesover]

I Want You to Stay (09) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

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

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

Chapter Word count: 18.4k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

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

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Hiii thank you for being patient, and again for all your love and appreciation for this story. 🥰 Updates will continue to take longer as I return to uni. On another note, I hope you enjoy this!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰

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

Seeing you standing in his kitchen donned in that pastel-colored blouse makes Jungkook stop in his tracks; you’re exactly who he needs to wake him up. 

It’s been weeks of vacation, which also means weeks without his usual routine. It’s striking how being absorbed in his work has altered him in that sense - he looks for the stress, for the long hours, for the isolation that’s demanded of his job. Perhaps there was just really nothing to look forward to, and work was an excuse for all those things because there wasn’t much else going for him. Ironic, considering everything he can do with what he has, yet nothing seems to be what he’s looking for, even if deep down, he knows what it is.

This is something that Hoseok and A-yeong made him realize during the trip as he watched them gush about the pretty streets and marvel at the fjords and immerse themselves in the view of the northern lights. 

His cousin, the President of the company who makes decisive decisions and conducts press conferences and signs off on billion won projects, is the same man who squealed during a husky ride in Finland, laughed his butt off when he slipped on a glacier, and muttered words of love to his wife as they all watched the bright evening sky over the lake in Norway. There was so much passion in him, something A-yeong mirrored, whether it was about work or his relationships or just about everything in life. Hoseok looked forward to that trip, to that time with his wife, to that break, to seeing the scenery and feeling peace. 

While Jungkook found himself constantly thinking about the Arts Center and upcoming projects and new design ideas… and the one person who connected him to all those - you. It felt like he was rushing towards something because the achievement was the goal, and while he stopped by the mountains and marveled at the water as he sat on the cliffs, his mind was racing, chasing something that he couldn’t even grasp. 

That’s how the past six years have been. Perhaps more, he thinks. Maybe 20. He’s never allowed himself to just be. Quite frankly, he doesn’t know who he is outside of what he does; he doesn’t know much of how he is outside of being an executive and heir, and so during the moments when he isn’t functioning as such, he’s a bit lost, just existing in a place he’s visiting, not knowing how to interact, how to breathe; not knowing how to connect or to be free.

You’re the bright spot amidst it all. With you around, he still seems to be wandering while stuck in a certain spot, but he’s not alone because you’re there. With you around, there’s a sense of calmness somehow, with your smile and your presence warming the coldest parts of him that he’s left untouched and unfeeling for years.

So when he walks towards you, his eyes fully opening now to see you better, he hums in satisfaction. 

“It’s nice to see you again,” he says, prompting you to turn around. “It feels like it’s been so long.”

“Really, Mr. Jeon? I thought the three weeks felt fast,” you giggle. “But it’s nice to see you, too. Were you able to rest out there?”

“Somehow,” he replies, taking the glass of water you give him.

“Is that why you passed on your morning workout to sleep in?” You raise an eyebrow, thinking that he’d slept in when you walked into his penthouse earlier without the usual sounds from the gym that you’d gotten used to.

“I was pretty jet lagged,” he groans. “Couldn’t sleep so I did it last night to tire myself out and then I finally fell asleep three hours ago. It’s a miracle I woke up after the tenth snooze of my alarm.”

“Ooh, that is not good, considering all the documents on your desks and messages on your inbox,” you shake your head. “What if I move the team meeting to tomorrow so you don’t push yourself too hard today? You could’ve taken the day off.”

“And have a worse day tomorrow? No thanks,” he chuckles. “I’m fine, but I agree with moving the meeting.”

“Just take it slow,” you advise. “I brought some pastries because I know your fridge and pantry are empty. I’ll get them ready shortly.”

“I’ll wash up then.”

You follow not long after, preparing his outfits for the second half of the week, then setting out the breakfast for both of you. He returns to the kitchen wearing the brown suit you chose for today, looking just as handsome as you remember. You fix his tie like you always do and meet his eyes like it’s reflex, the warmth bubbling within you when he returns your soft smile. You take your seat a chair away, taking your iPad after to start going through updates when he stops you.

“Not yet, please. My mind’s still half asleep.”

“Okay, sir,” you respond. “We can talk about your trip instead. How was it?”

Jungkook finds himself more engaged in telling you about it, not like how he was when his best friends met him for dinner last night and he was too tired to narrate how it went. But you ask with such excitement that he ends up sharing more than what he planned.

He talks about the Vikings museum and historical tours, the bike rides and coastal walks, the calm but lively cities and the breathtaking waterfalls. He even mentions the things he’d only kept to himself - like that one evening when the sky looked like one of Lee Jaemin’s paintings that had him staying at the balcony with a glass of wine while basking in its beauty, and when they were in Hans Christian Andersen’s hometown and he wondered what kind of fairytale character he would be, and that he learned he really enjoys hot springs during the winter. They’re random thoughts that he just ended up saying, somehow feeling natural and comfortable in sharing them with you. 

You indulge him, asking more and sharing your thoughts, too. You even throw in the occasional teasing remark and playful laughter. You ask about the scenery, expressing your yearning for the outdoors that you said you never really appreciated before, as the open space always overwhelmed you.

He passes you his iPad where he’s opened the folder of the photos that he took with his camera, a gift from Taehyung who’d said that Jungkook needed to go out more and “feel the sun.” He rarely used it but a Northern Europe trip seemed like the perfect excuse. He’s used to assessing interiors and marveling at structures from afar, but this time he got to appreciate what lies beyond his walls, beyond the little world he’s been burrowing himself in.

“These are stunning, Jungkook,” you gush, dropping the formalities as he shares something that feels so personal. “I didn’t know you had the talent for photography, too.”

“I wouldn’t call it a talent,” he shakes his head. “I took it as an elective during university and it helps with design ideas. I should at least take nice photos if I need inspiration or a basis. I don’t really do it much, though.” 

“Did it make you feel good, at least?” You ask, wondering what else gives him satisfaction.

“Somehow. It makes me feel good when I’m looking at the pictures. I’m transported to that day and that place again, like a holder of memories and desire for the good things.”

You go through the photos - dozens of them. He didn’t take too many, just one or two shots of every scenery. Beyond the majestic landscape, there are the everyday scenes - people talking at a cafe, strangers enjoying the park. There’s a couple holding hands, laughing at each other; from the silhouettes, you can tell they’re Hoseok and A-yeong, a moment that Jungkook probably thought too precious to not capture. 

Something in you stirs, as the photos elicit a mix of awe and yearning. You look at Jungkook and you think it’s what he felt, too. 

There’s a saying you heard about watching what people photograph to learn what they fear losing. With Jungkook, it seems as if these - freedom, tranquility, connection, intimacy - are things he wants; somehow they seem to be what he fears having. 

“It’s nice to have a keeper of good memories, isn’t it? Of that reminder that beautiful things exist and that they’re tangible, you know?” You say, returning his gadget. 

“It is,” he responds after a beat of silence, seemingly processing your words. “We forget sometimes. Or maybe, we just don’t know what that’s like. In that case it’s like an illusion. But it’s still good to have that, I guess. It’s still something.”

You don’t know what more could be said. It feels too personal or even intimate of a conversation to have with your boss on a Wednesday morning as you eat breakfast in his apartment. So you let it go, smiling as you say you’re glad he got to have some rest. 

He says that so does he and then asks about how your holiday was as you both head to the car. You talk about it during the ride, how you spent a week in Wando with your mother’s partner’s family and then drove to Jeonju, how the entirety of your break had you stuffing your face with food and bonding with them, and how they drove you back to Seoul last weekend, thankful that for those two weeks, they had you around.

You don’t tell Jungkook that some days, you’d think of him, wondering how he’s doing. You don’t tell him that you’d seen A-yeong’s posts and that he looked at peace in them, that there was a softness in his eyes that you’ve rarely seen on him. You don’t tell him that despite the vacation that you said you were looking forward to, you were also looking forward to this - having him back, sharing stories, and living in the silence alongside him.

You wonder, as you glance at him looking out the window, if this is what you meant about savoring the moment, enjoying what’s in front of you, and feeling less alone. Because right now, those are exactly what you feel. 

Jungkook wanted to wait to get to the office before proceeding to work matters, something that surprises you because he always gets down to business immediately, not unless he’s recovering from a hangover. But he blew you off even in the car, wanting instead to listen to your stories and then doodle on his leather notebook again for the rest of the ride. You end up meeting with him for an hour before he settles in, then he goes to lunch with his father, meets with your team, and then decides to visit the Arts Center mid-afternoon. 

Work is back in full-swing just like that, and you pull the energy from within you to manage the crazy week. There are start-of-the-year events to attend and organize, a board report and meeting to prepare for, new projects to initiate, and a major one to monitor. 

You’re glad that despite all that, Jungkook allows you to have a four-day off on the succeeding week so you can celebrate your birthday with a road trip down coastal towns with Jimin and Soomin. It’s a silly thing to do in the middle of winter, but they insist that warmth is most satisfying when it’s cold outside, and you don’t disagree. You’ll definitely be sighing in relief when you hold the steaming hot hotteok in between your hands, and it’ll be the best one you’ll have. 

It’s Thursday and you’ll be back in a week. You’ve just finished briefing Do-hyun, who’ll be covering for you while you’re away, and you get off your chair to grab tea in the pantry. Jungkook’s voice stops as you, as he stands by his door and asks if you’re already leaving.

“In an hour, Mr. Jeon,” you reply. “Is there anything I can help you with until then?”

“No, nothing,” he says. “I’m actually about to leave for dinner with Taehyung and Seokjin.”

“Oh, alright, sir,” you hum. “Goodbye, then. And I’ll see you next week. Just know that you’re the only one who can disturb me.”

He laughs in response. “Come on, I won’t be badgering you, especially on your birthday. It’s your one week away from me. You have to savor it.”

“So should you,” you counter. “But okay. I will.”

“Good,” he nods. “I’ll just fix up and go ahead then.”

He returns to his room and you’re just the tiniest bit disappointed that he didn’t properly greet you but you suppose that’s good for you. So you go to the pantry and end up chit-chatting with the team, finding yourself smiling when you look up and see Jungkook by the door, who tells everyone not to stay too late before he heads out. 

You arrive back at your desk, your heart beating fast at the sight of a small brown bag on your table. 

For your trip. Something to help remind you that beautiful things exist and they’re tangible, the note reads. Happy birthday. 

Your mind goes to a conversation you had not long ago, about how photos can elicit certain emotions and be a keeper of memories, especially of good ones. You know this is from Jungkook, and you also have an idea of what this might be, which is why you open the package right away.

Still, it catches you by surprise, especially when you find two disposable film cameras inside. They’ll definitely be enough for your upcoming trip and you know the photos will come out amazingly. You’re ecstatic. 

Perhaps this is why he wanted to leave before you did - you’d thank him and he’d be terrible at accepting it again, then you’ll call him out for it. Maybe it was good he hadn’t stuck around to see you act this way. At least he didn’t see you with that silly smile on your face.

But Yoongi does as you head down the elevator, smirking at you when he sees the bag you’re holding and the familiar handwriting on the card.

“I’m guessing you’re not fighting it anymore, huh?” He says, teasing yet somehow still comforting. 

“I’m trying not to, even if I know I’m being stupid,” you admit. “I can at least have these fleeting moments of joy after I walk away from this.”

“Retain the good memories. That’s one way to let things go,” Yoongi advises, as he exits the carriage on the parking lot floor.

The doors close on your smiling face, and he chuckles to himself at the irony of things. That’s how he learned to let you go, after all.

You return to work the following week with a spring in your step, with Jungkook noticing as you heat up the fried rice that you told him you’d be preparing for breakfast. You hum as you go about in the kitchen, feeling energized after the last few days you’ve had. 

It was freezing, but you, Soomin, and Jimin went a little crazy and ran down the beach whenever you drove by one, something you all did as kids living in Busan. The drives from town to town were slow but they had you all singing to your favorite songs, munching on chestnuts and bungeoppang, and stopping over viewing sites for fresh air and photos. 

You used Jungkook’s gift a lot, taking pictures of things that elicited strong emotions and good memories - purple and orange skies, snow melting on the pavement, the crashing ocean waves turning white at the tip, an empty playground in the park, Soomin’s infectious laughter, Jimin’s angelic smile. 

The cold was an excuse to seek your best friends’ warmth and they took advantage of it. It reminded you of those few years growing up with them before you returned to Daegu for college, something you and Jimin reminisced about, and something that you thanked him for after what seemed like ages. You recalled how he approached you first as the new girl who entered school in the middle of the school year, how he followed you around because you were always alone and was scared of loud noises, and how he’s never left your side since then. 

Every night during that trip, he hugged you as you tried to fall asleep, knowing you needed it for the cold you felt inside and out. He was next to you when you talked about Jungkook gifting you the cameras and admitted that it made you feel good, that it made you happy.

“I’m glad he’s showing you kindness,” Jimin had said. “But… just be careful, okay? Your heart is capable of a lot of good things. Pain is the last thing it deserves.”

“I don’t really know what my heart is capable of,” you replied. “My brain does the hurting but my heart… I don’t know what it does. I don’t know how it works.” 

It left him speechless then and somehow, you were glad that he just held you tighter, only because it was the only way you wanted to be comforted at that moment. But you also knew that whatever your heart ended up doing or experiencing, Jimin and Soomin would be there to help you make sense of it, to pick up the pieces should they need to.

“It seems as though your birthday rejuvenated you, ___,” Jungkook disrupts your thoughts. “You look much lighter and relaxed.”

“Only because I haven’t checked my emails nor taken new instructions from you,” you laugh as you serve the fried rice in bowls then head towards him. You fix his suit again and speak casually like you’ve gotten used to. “Once I open that iPad and see what I have to deal with, relaxed would be the last thing I’ll be.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckles. “Let me savor this then.”

His words catch you off guard and they prompt you to meet his eyes - soft yet piercing, then he turns shy and turns away from you. Perhaps he’s surprised at what he’d said, too.

“Work is stressful and your calmness rubs off on me most times,” he says nonchalantly. “We’ve got a busy few days ahead and I want that calmness to linger.”

“It will,” you assure him. “And yes, I feel rejuvenated, and that’ll probably last me for days so that will linger, even if I’m stressed, so don't worry. You’re gonna do well. I don’t doubt it one bit.”

Jungkook’s meeting the Culture Minister next week to present the Arts Center’s plans and activities leading to its opening to the public, which is why you think he needs that calmness as well. The team has been helping him with the preparations and while you felt bad that you didn’t get to contribute as much, he assured you that all the notes you left him have been instrumental. 

But still, his words affect you. Is this calm and relaxed version of you all he wants to savor? Does it mean anything more? 

The thoughts wander away as you have breakfast with him, and he asks if you wish to talk about work later on but you insist that you’re mentally ready for it all. He’s the one who gives you updates this time, and just like that, you’re back to your usual routine.

You glance at his plate, all clean right after because even this dish, he savors. And you realize that doing things for him, no matter how simple, makes you happy, too, especially when his lips turn up in a small smile and he nods in satisfaction.

“Good, huh?” You wiggle your eyebrows. 

“It’s infinitely better than mine,” he hums.

“So, it’s really, really, really good then?”

“You don’t even know how mine tastes like.”

“True. But Taehyung said once that yours was really delicious and I’ll take his word for it. Seokjin agreed and I believe them.”

“Wow, really? That’s a rare moment where they praise me,” Jungkook laughs. 

“You should savor that, too.”

“I should. Heavens know the last time that happened. And when it’ll happen again.”

“That’s kind of hard though, isn’t it?” You say, being a bit reflective as you go back to your daily routine after a trip that you wholly enjoyed. “Savoring things… capturing them, appreciating them. Like, you have to be in the moment, you have to be present, and that’s not easy to do.”

“It isn’t,” he responds after a while. “You have to care enough for something to be worth savoring, I guess.”

“Exactly. But how do you do that when everything is temporary - things, feelings… people. Not all of them are meant to stay,” you reply, meeting his eyes as they seem to be in deep thought.

“Maybe they will… if you ask them to,” he softly says.

“That depends.”

“On what?” He asks.

“If they have a reason to,” you shrug. 

Your faraway eyes tell him that you’re in deep thought, perhaps processing the exchange that even Jungkook can’t fully wrap his head around. But you turn to him not long after, smiling as you take the plates to clean up, as if you’d just snapped out of a trance, of a moment of honesty. 

He watches you from his seat. There’s an aura about you that truly feels more relaxed, yet there seems to be an added layer of pensiveness, of deep thinking that could easily be mistaken for savoring the moment when you might be questioning it, perhaps wondering if it’s real… or worth caring about in the first place.

Even until now, he doesn’t know what it is about you that has him hanging on to every word you say, like it’s some secret message or code to learning who you are and what your fears and pains and hopes and dreams might be. 

In the past months, his moments with you have allowed him a peek inside - there’s this yearning for something that you’re not ready for; there’s this knowledge of the fleeting nature of the world that you want to capture as memories because that’s the only way you can make them stay; there’s this desire for companionship that terrifies you more than anything.  

But then again, as he sees that soft courage in your eyes, maybe he knows why - he has the same fears as you, and perhaps that’s terrifying, too, as he realizes that much of what he’s scared of is tangible. 

He fears the emptiness left in your absence and the silence surrounding him when you’re gone. His trip over the holidays made him think so; this past week when you were away solidified it. There’s a lot of you to miss. He’s unsure how to deal with these thoughts and feelings; he doesn’t know how to move forward and be professional when you affect him this way. All he can hope for is that you’ll always find a reason to stay close to him, that you’ll always find a reason to want him around, and that every moment you share is something worth it enough for you to savor but that you both never have to let go.

You think about the conversation with Jungkook later that night on your way home. There’s something about the impermanence of the world that’s always scared you; things break and wither away all the time and you fear the loss in their absence. Perhaps it’s because you’ve experienced various types of losses throughout your years of living. 

You lost that childhood innocence the first time you saw your mother cry, then when her smile that finally returned was wiped off, and then when her hopeful eyes became filled with tears out of fear. You lost that comfort of a routine when you left Seoul at 10 years old, and then that stability when you said goodbye to your life in Busan. You lost that security when you decided to come back here with a dream tucked away, burdened with a debt and a past that you couldn’t escape. You lost that feeling of freedom when your favorite library closed, and then of safety during that night at the restaurant when you were hurt and exposed. 

It’s hard to savor things when you know you’ll lose them one day. But that’s also precisely why you should, as what these past months have been showing you, you think now. The absence reminds you that something good was in its place, and that at one point in time, it made you hope that you deserved it, that you were worthy of having it. 

But as you lay in bed that night and think of how much of Jungkook you thought about while you were away, you start to think that maybe things aren’t as temporary as you once believed. He was in the icy streets that you walked on and the warmth of the hot chocolate drink you had. He was in the drizzle on the playground that you wiped off and the touch of the leather notebook you saw at one of the shops. 

And perhaps that was the difference - you didn’t just stand by; somehow it felt like you connected with them - they were tangible, within your grasp, and that made them linger, that made them feel real. In your mind, that’s where they stayed.

The tail-end of winter marks the time when you’ve settled in the new year. All your backlog from the holidays and your short birthday break have been worked on. Operational plans and goals for the year have been finalized. The Board report and meeting are over and major events have been scheduled. Things are picking up now as the Arts Center is near its completion, with the consequent promotions and marketing on full speed. That last bit has been contracted to a subsidiary company but Jungkook is still on top of most things, which means that so are you. 

You accompany him to meetings with different departments regularly, and that’s on top of monitoring the other small projects that the VP office is working on, which is also on top of supporting Jungkook’s executive functions. In a blink of an eye, you’re back to the hustle and bustle nature of your job, and you’re reminded of why it’s been so hard to get out of it, and also why you can’t wait to do so. 

There’s just so much going on all at once, and given how you are, you give all of yourself to it because it’s the only way to get things done; it’s the only way to get through it without feeling like you’re taking for granted all that you’ve been given and achieved. But it also means you’ve lost the sense of meaning of most other things, and you wanna be able to do something that means something to you, something of good memories, of beautiful things that are tangible that you can touch and feel. 

You let go of the thoughts when Do-hyun and Yohan pop in your area to say goodbye. It’s another long night for everyone and you’re glad that they finally listened to you and decided to go home. You say that you still have a couple of things to work on when they insist that they walk you to the bus stop, telling them once more that you’ll be fine. 

“It’s forecasted to rain soon,” Do-hyun informs you. 

“I’ll get a cab, don’t worry,” you assure them. “Finance needs these files first thing tomorrow morning and we’ve got that ocular at 8. Thank you though.” 

“Fine, but let us know when you’re home, okay?” She says.

“I will. Get home safely, you two.”

You get back to work, and with the peace and quiet in the office with you being the last one here, you manage to finish what you need to in an hour and then finally call it a night. You head out and sigh to yourself once you see the lightning strike, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before the rain will begin to pour. You manage to bring out your umbrella by the time it does, then turn at the corner to look for a cab so you can avoid those who’ll be hailing from the main road. 

There are a few people who have the same idea as you, and it’s after some time before you spot one, with the driver slowing down once he sees you. But right as you start speed walking towards it, some man decides to get ahead, running past you and bumping you in the process, causing you to lose your balance. The wet pavement doesn’t help, as you slip on your foot and fall to the ground. You try to get up but jerk in pain when you do, realizing that you’d hurt your ankle, a foreign feeling that has you immediately worrying. 

After all the times you’d found yourself under the rain, this is the worst moment of all - you’re hurting, all alone, and completely worn out. You’ve had a really long day and you don’t have the energy for this; all you want is to go home and have some rest. But you know there’s no other way, so you shift on your bum, manage to get up and strain your arms in the process, then you limp to the nearest post you can find using your umbrella as a walking stick then stand on one foot.

The rain has weakened a little, so you’re at least not getting even more wet, but it’s still winter and you’ve started to freeze. There are no other cabs in sight and all ride-hailing apps have been such a pain to book. Knowing that it’ll be tough to get home in any way at this stage and that you won’t be able to manage on your own, you decide to call Mr. Ri. He’s always told you that if you need help for anything, he’s another person that you could call.

It’s half past 8 in the evening. You’re banking on him being on the way home after having dropped Jungkook off at his building after a dinner meeting at 5:30.

“Hey, ___. Is everything alright?” Mr. Ri asks, knowing you rarely call at this hour. 

“Not really,” you sigh, the shiver in your voice evident. “Have you dropped Jungkook off?”

“Not yet. But what do you mean, not really? What happened?”

“Are you driving?”

“No. I’m still waiting for him to finish. Tell me, are you in danger?” He presses, and you hear the worry in his voice. 

You told him about Chi-won some weeks after it happened, and Mr. Ri, having known you for many years, knows you’re not one to usually reach out. He’s made it a point to check on you regularly, and calls like this would definitely ring some alarm bells. 

“I’m not in danger but I hurt myself,” you say, quickly appeasing him that it’s probably just a sprained ankle and not that serious. “I just can’t get any ride and I can barely walk. I was hoping you were on the way home.”

“I’m not but I’ll go get you, okay? I’ll tell Jungkook and we’ll drive to you right away.”

“Mr. Ri, he’s in a meeting!” 

“That’s most likely over and now they’re just chatting over drinks,” he reasons. “I’ll get him. You know he’ll want me to.”

“You don’t know that,” you stammer.

“You weren’t there with him the days after what happened that night at the restaurant, ___,” he huffs. “I just knew it was really bad because of how worried he was, and he’s never been that way. So yes, I know he’ll want me to get his ass out of there and be on the way to you. Plus, I’m sure he’ll fire me if I don’t.”

“Fine,” you concede. “Just don’t make it sound so bad because it really isn’t.”

“You know I can’t control how that kid reacts,” he hums. “Just send me your location.”

Mr. Ri heads out of the driver’s lounge and rushes to the restaurant where he manages to send a message to Jungkook that you’re stranded somewhere with possibly a sprained ankle. He says it as it is, knowing that Jungkook won’t need much to decide on ending the meeting and go to you, which he does right away.

“What happened?” He asks the older man as they both walk towards the basement parking.

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask any more questions,” Mr. Ri responds. “She’s somewhere near the office. We’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

“Try for 15,” Jungkook instructs.

He calls you right after and he immediately picks up on your chattering teeth.

“Hey, ___. How are you feeling?”

You’re a little surprised when Jungkook calls this soon, and with how you’re trying to move past whatever attraction you have towards the man, this really isn’t helping.

“Just… cold. My umbrella flew away,” you laugh. “The wind’s picked up and I think it’s gonna rain again.”

Just as you say so, it starts, and you pick up on the change in Jungkook’s voice. You’ve since learned that he’s not fond of it, always closing his eyes and trying to tune everything out with even just a drizzle. But he continues talking and asks what happened, trying to keep you company. You narrate the incident and attempt to play it off as something minor, although the longer you stay leaning against the post, the more pain you’re starting to feel. 

“We’re five minutes away. We’ll be there soon,” he assures you then drops the call.

Jungkook clenches his fist and closes his eyes as the rain continues to pour. With the sound of the thunder, he jerks in his seat like he always does, but he pushes forward, knowing you need his help. He takes deep breaths just as he’s learned to do, and not long after, Mr. Ri informs him that he sees you just meters away.

The car slows down and Jungkook looks outside the window. He can see you leaning against a pole on one foot, drenched and shivering, your eyes closed as you wait for them to arrive. He meets Mr. Ri’s eyes in the rear view mirror as they halt, and with the rain just barely stopping, the older man nods and exits the car.

Jungkook watches from inside as Mr. Ri runs to you. He sees the smile on your face despite the droplets on the window. The older man takes your bag then helps you walk, leading you to the car where Jungkook manages to push the door open. 

You slowly enter with as much energy you can muster, wincing in pain when you have to adjust your foot inside. You sigh in relief as you feel the warmth and dryness of the car, prompting you to apologize for getting it all wet.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook shakes his head. “We’ll take you to the hospital, okay? And I won’t accept no for an answer.”

You nod in agreement, knowing that much as you’re causing him inconvenience right now, you’re too tired to argue. You lean your head by the window and try to catch your breath. 

“Have you had dinner? He asks.

“Not yet. I was supposed to grab it on the way home.”

“We’ll pass by somewhere after the hospital.”

“Okay,” you look at him and smile. 

Jungkook isn’t surprised when you don’t counter him. Perhaps it’s the exhaustion, as he sees it in how your smile isn’t as bright as what he’s used to, with it fading as you turn away. You’re still shivering though, despite the car heater being turned up. He doesn’t have a towel to dry you up, though, so he instead removes his coat and instructs you to lean forward so he can place it over your shoulders to warm your back. He takes his puffer jacket from the front seat and puts it over your lap right after, giving you warmth there, too. 

“Is that better?” He asks.

���Yeah,” you mouth. “Thank you.”

His scent wafts through your senses, allowing you to breathe and feel all of him at once. It’s the closest thing to tangible comfort you’ve gotten from him, and you hate how good it feels.

You’re just about to fall asleep when the car comes to a stop. The rain has subsided and perhaps that’s why soon after, you hear Jungkook open his door and then your door, too. He removes his coat over your back, placing it back inside, then he holds onto your forearms to help you climb out. He takes his jacket and instructs you to wear it, giggling at how you’re being swallowed in it.

“I look ridiculous,” you pout as you sit on the wheelchair that he’s asked the nurse to get.

“Just a little,” he teases.

He walks next to you as you’re wheeled inside the hospital, staying close by when you explain to the ER doctor what happened. She assesses your foot and lower leg, diagnosing you with a sprained ankle like you expected, and proceeds to wrap it in elastic bandage. 

She treats the minor scratches on your palms you got from the fall then writes you a prescription for painkillers. Jungkook takes it so he can buy them for you after, then he helps you settle the bill with your insurance. 

You’re quite uncomfortable - you’re still a little wet and the bandage feels foreign around your foot. But you’re also feeling a bit shy, now that Jungkook is the one pushing the wheelchair towards the pharmacy nearby. He parks you at the side while he buys the medicine, and as you look on, you can’t help the relief mixed with giddiness that you feel despite the pain that’s close to overtaking you.

He stands by the counter with his white dress shirt slightly untucked and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hands are in his pockets while he waits for the pharmacist to return, and amidst everything that’s going on, you’re still able to admire how overwhelmingly handsome he looks, especially given what he’s doing right now for you. His side view is quite blinding, so you’re slightly embarrassed when he turns around and calls your name again after you missed it the first few times.

“Dazed and tired?” He asks as he walks back to you with a pack of medicines.

“Definitely,” you say, which isn’t a lie; it’s just not the whole truth. “I just want to eat and have a nice bath and then sleep.”

“And you’ll do all that soon,” he assures you. “We’ll pass by whatever’s open on the way to your place. Just make sure you don’t have the hot water on, okay? And then elevate your foot when you sleep.”

“Yes, I heard everything she said,” you playfully roll your eyes. 

“Including the full-on rest that’s required of you for the next few days?” He raises an eyebrow. “Because that’s what you’re gonna have. You’re on leave until you’re able to walk properly again, Ms. Cho.”

“So now you’re being formal,” you tease, flashing him a playful smile. “But yes, Mr. Jeon. The instructions are understood.”

“Good,” he laughs softly. “Glad you’re not being stubborn about it.”

“Oh, not with this one, not when I’m this tired and in this much pain.”

His look turns sullen at the admission of what you’re feeling and you wish he didn’t feel this bad. But you can’t deny the way it’s giving you butterflies, prompting you to scold yourself internally because learning how caring he is isn’t exactly what you need to get over a crush. This is definitely the worst part about being injured, you decide. 

You make it out of the hospital and he helps you again as you enter the car, sliding in next to you as he ensures that you’re warm. 

You pass by a noodle house on the way, and he buys you some more food for the next day despite your insistence that he didn’t have to. But you’re too tired to argue some more, and you doze off a little during the drive to your apartment, with your half-awake self mumbling your apology about taking up his time.

Jungkook playfully shakes his head. Knowing you’re probably shallow sleep-talking, he disregards your words. He just gets glimpses of you, comforted to know that you’re at least getting the most rest you can have, given your current state. The painkillers will kick in soon and that’ll help you sleep better, but right now, he wishes he could do more for you. 

In the deepest crevices of his heart, he wants to hold your still shivering hands and maybe hug your trembling body. He wants to stay with you until you’re warm and comfortable in your bed, perhaps assure you in whatever way that you’re not alone, that there’s help whenever you need it. He can’t imagine how it would’ve been like for you being under the rain, cold and hurt with no one around. 

On second thought, he can, and that’s the thing about it. Even if you get out of it with just a sprained ankle - considering how much worse it could’ve been - it’s still terrifying being alone and powerless, paralyzed on the spot and not knowing if anyone will show up. He wants nothing more than for you to get over that and be able to move past it because he knows how haunting it could be; he knows how restraining such memories are.

But he also knows that there’s not much he could do - not with the unnamed feelings he can’t express, and not with the line he still believes he shouldn’t cross.

So he settles for glances and soft smiles at your fluttering eyes and slightly parted mouth. You look tired but peaceful; he thinks it’s quite endearing. It also feels intrusive so he looks away, out into the streets that he’s able to somehow see now. He thinks about the timing of it all - your late night and his dinner out, your injury and the bad weather. He’s thankful that the rain subsided and that allowed him to help you as much as he was able to, and that he got to you in the first place.

You arrive at your apartment with you now fully awake, and Jungkook heads to your side right away. Pulling you out of the car requires more strength from him, and despite your terrible condition, the butterflies appear once more when he instructs you to hold onto him for support. You have to act unaffected when you feel his broad shoulders and taut arms, with your hands gingerly laying on them; you wonder if he feels anything, too, under the thin material of his dress shirt. 

His left hand only grazes your waist but his hold tightens after you grant him permission, perhaps knowing that it would be harder for you if he holds you that loose, he asked you to put your weight on him after all. Despite your agreement, you still hold in your breath, a silly attempt at slowing down your quickening heartbeat. He’s never been this close, and you’re unsure if you want him to be anywhere else.

You suspend your thoughts for the shortest of seconds until you both manage to get up the few steps to your door. Mr. Ri helps in unlocking it, and you settle on the dining chair that Jungkook pulls out for you after you both enter.

As you release a breath and watch him look around, it’s then you realize that your boss - the Jeon Corporation Vice President who lives in a penthouse in an exclusive district in Seoul - is in your tiny studio apartment that’s literally just the size of his bedroom. You’re not ashamed one bit but you are a little shy, so you jokingly welcome him to your “little mansion.”

“It’s nice,” he hums, looking around some more, which he doesn’t need to move to do. 

The small round dining table, the off-the-wall kitchen, and the three-seater couch are all in the open living space. There’s a half-wall that separates your sleeping area, with your double bed against it and the tiniest of balconies just off of it. 

You’re quite proud of what you’ve made of the place, with the plants in the corners, some chic art pieces on the walls, and photos with your friends and family on stick-on frames resting on the shelves. It’s cozy and comfortable for you, and you feel quite proud when Jungkook’s lips turn up when you respond that you’re happy here when he asks.

“It’s everything I need,” you hum. “And it’s in a safe part of town. My neighbors are older couples who are all kind.”

“That’s good,” he says, turning to you. “Will they be much help to you while you recover?”

“I’ll be okay,” you insist. “I have a crutch. I’ve got food to heat up, and my place is so small that I don’t have to move around to get things done. I don’t really need help, you know?”

He scrunches his eyebrows, seemingly unconvinced. 

“Watch,” you say, your shallow confidence pushing you to grab the crutch next to you then using it to walk towards him so you could prove that you’re capable enough to look after yourself. 

But your unfamiliarity with it leads you to mistime your step. Before you know it, you’re tripping on your foot and losing your balance, and as your life is about to flash before your eyes thinking that you’re gonna fall once again and make your injury worse, Jungkook’s reflex kicks in and he steps forward to catch you. You feel his grip on your waist gradually tighten as if to keep you steady, as if to make sure you’re alright. He’s so close, you can feel his breath as he pants, the worried look on his face something you’re familiar with by now. But he stays there, inches away, and so do you. 

He’s bending, so he stays leveled with you. You can see his long eyelashes resting on his honeyed skin and the endearing curve of his nose. He looks so soft like this, comfortable even, with his big round eyes looking like the most innocent ones you’ve ever seen.

The voice in your head suddenly becomes loud enough and you break his gaze, realizing then that you’re also clutching onto his shoulder for support. You give him a look of apology but he just laughs, something you’re thankful for because the last thing you want is for the tension to thicken.

“You’re stubborn, aren’t you? You think it’s that easy?” He shakes his head, his tone sounding like he’s both teasing and reprimanding you.

“It seemed like it,” you shrug, allowing him to help you back on the seat, disregarding the slightest bit of giddiness you feel as he has one hand on your free arm while the other ghosts over your waist in case you fall again.

“It’s not. And I know this because I’ve used this before,” he says. “So since you’ll be by yourself, we have to make sure you can at least use the crutch without falling, okay?”

“Fine,” you concede, listening to his instructions carefully then trying to do it on your own. 

It takes some getting used to, but after a few tries, you manage to at least walk without tripping. You plan on just staying in bed or on the couch tomorrow anyway so you’re not that worried. Even if Jungkook still seems to be.

“I’m okay,” you insist. “I’m gonna survive. But you should head home. It’s getting late and you have that ocular in the morning. I’ll just have to email Chin-sun about accompanying you and—”

“None of that,” he interjects. “I’ll be the one to tell her and I don’t want you worrying about work tomorrow, okay? You’re gonna take your medicine and just rest.”

“You’re demanding, aren’t you?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Only when I’m dealing with someone as stubborn as you,” he counters. 

You just laugh at him answering back, enjoying your banter more than you should, then he says that he’ll go ahead, for as long as you’re sure you can manage. It takes another five minutes until he makes it out the door. But before he disappears, you call his name, your heart skipping a beat when he turns around, as if he’s just hanging onto your every word.

“Thank you,” you say. “I know it was a long day and it was raining but… you still came for me.”

“Just recover quickly, okay? I’ll check on you in the morning.”

You nod and he leaves. And just like that, you’re once again on your own - damp, injured, and extremely tired. Jungkook’s presence remains in your apartment though, and there he is again, making you smile and making you feel things you shouldn’t.

You don’t mind being alone. In fact, you enjoy it. But during the times when you don’t want to be, he just happens to be there. And being the stubborn woman that you are, deep down, you like it that he is, that in your own little world with the walls up so high, he’s become a frequent visitor. You’re just not sure if you want him to stay just yet. 

You wake up the next morning feeling faint and sore, and it’s probably the painkillers having lost their effect. And there’s a reason why, seeing that it’s close to midday when you finally get out of bed. You manage to stand and walk to the kitchen with no issues, and you take your medication and heat up the food that Jungkook bought for you last night. It’s when you’re seated that he calls, bringing that smile to your otherwise uneventful day.

“Hello?”

“Hey, ___. How are you feeling?” He asks.

“Just fine. I took my medicines for the day and I’m about to eat lunch,” you reply. “And you? How was the ocular?”

“It was good. It has a lot of potential so I’ll run down the details with the teams and propose it. But speaking of sites, remember what I said about Hoseok and I thinking of a Scandinavian-inspired mid-rise in the mountains?”

“Yeah, the one you came up with during your trip. Are you gonna push through with it soon?”

“Perhaps. I’ve gotten emails of proposed sites for some other projects but I’ve seen a few that could work with this idea,” he shares. “There’s one in Gangwon that’s near the town center so it would be practical for many. There’s even— ah, why am I saying this to you now? You’re off the clock.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him. Jungkook doesn’t always show this much excitement with the projects he has to manage so when he does, you encourage him. It’s also an excuse to hear more of his voice. “My mind’s not prepared for being home today anyway so I’m a little disoriented. But that’s good. I can look into the sites and we can do an ocular whenever you prefer.”

“Alright, that’s something to schedule for next month. But uh, you sure you’re fine? Does your ankle still hurt? Did you get proper sleep?”

“Well, I slept like a baby,” you giggle. “And I at least remained in one position. It still hurts a bit but it should be okay in the next few days. I’m just gonna have to replace the bandage tomorrow morning.”

“Okay. Just make sure to ice it and keep it elevated.”

“Yes, boss,” you tease, earning you a groan. “But uh, thank you for checking up on me. I know you’ve got a busy day ahead.”

He’s silent, and you suppose it’s him again not knowing how to respond to gratitude, so you follow it up by saying that you’ll eat your meal now and reminding him of his meeting at 2PM.

“You better not be checking your emails and my calendar right now,” he warns.

“I’m not. I just memorize your schedule,” you defend.

“Okay then, I’ll go ahead.”

Jungkook drops the call and sinking in his seat, he sighs in relief. He managed to get through that conversation without sounding extremely worried, which is what he’s been since last night. His busy day today actually includes constantly worrying about how you’re doing, but he supposes it’s too much to let you know. Sure it’s just a sprained ankle, but knowing how you tend to move about, anything can happen. You were all alone for some time last night, too, just waiting for a way to get home. And that’s another thing he worries about - that fear latching onto you, that helplessness weighing you down.

He asks Mr. Ri if he’s heard from you, thinking that you’d probably be more honest with him, but the older man says you told him the same thing.

“Don’t you believe her?” Mr. Ri wonders.

“I do, but she’s quite stubborn though,” Jungkook laments. 

“Well, I’ve known her for a while and she tends to just deal with things on her own,” Mr. Ri says.

“But she shouldn’t. She’s injured.”

“I think it’s natural for people who’ve been alone for many years to be that way,” the older man shrugs. “I mean, you’re the same.”

Jungkook doesn’t disagree. And if you’re truly anything like him, then you’d just push through the pain and force it to stop hurting so you can go back to your normal busy life because doing so keeps you from thinking of how lonely it feels when you’re sick or hurt and there’s no one around. It’s how he’s always been, too, he admits to himself.

The thought disturbs him, which is why he messages you three more times during the day and then again the next morning, asking if he could drop by. He’s expecting you to insist that you’re fine and he doesn’t need to, so it surprises him when you say that he could. 

You’re pacing back and forth in your mind since you’re unable to physically do so, but the thought of Jungkook visiting you this Saturday morning is a lot for you to handle, even if you did say it was alright for him to come. The truth is, you wanted him to, only because selfishly, seeing someone be that worried about you gives you some form of comfort.

You called your family yesterday and told them about the injury, which they obviously panicked about. Your mom asked if you needed her to come to you but like always, you said she didn’t need to. You told Yoongi about it, too, and he was worried as well, in the classic way that he often is; he had food delivered to you for dinner last night so you didn’t have to think about it. You only told your best friends about it this morning and they were furious you waited so long to let them know; they were packing their stuff right as you were speaking to them two hours ago. 

You know you have people to depend on and would be at your doorstep anytime you ask. These are the same people who’ve done that for years and you fully accept their care and attention; it’s become a part of you and your healing process. But when someone like Jungkook who, for whatever reason he has, shows you the same, it feels different; he goes out of his way to show it to you, and he’s not even someone who normally does it. It’s a new kind of comfort, one that you find yourself seeking. So when he called earlier and asked if he could drop by, there was an internal sigh of relief. 

Over half an hour later, your doorbell rings, and you limp your way towards the door to open it. 

Other than being in suits, you’ve only ever seen Jungkook in his gym clothes - half naked as well - and in night out wear. You realize that this is the first time you’re seeing him in a casual outfit, and with a jacket over a sweatshirt and a brown beanie, he looks different - there’s that boyish charm that you’ve never seen; he looks softer, kinder, still reserved but a lot more comfortable.

You let him in after your greetings, then you turn to him and smile. 

“It’s really the suit, I know it now,” you tease. “It’s what makes you look intimidating.”

He looks at his attire then frowns at you. “So how do I look now?”

“Not intimidating.”

“Wow, what a surprise,” he playfully rolls his eyes. “Whereas you…” He eyes you in gray leggings and a blush jumper, looking soft and comfortable and even more like the bright spot he’s realized you are, but he’d never tell you that. “You look injured.”

“Gee, what a surprise. I feel injured, too,” you laugh. “But uhm, it’s nice of you to visit my humble mansion once again.”

“I just wanted to make sure you’re doing better,” he hums. “And bring some more food so you don’t have to worry about it.”

You eye the beef brisket with rice and say that you know what you’ll be having for lunch. He responds that he might just go back to the restaurant and meet his best friends there, too. You return to your seat on the couch, realizing there’s not much room for him to sit on, but he gets to you first, standing in front of you and eyeing the elastic bandage on the table.

“Aren’t you due for a redress?” He asks.

“Yes but uh, I can’t actually reach my foot,” you say with an embarrassed smile. “I’m not really flexible so I’ll just wait until Soomin and Jimin arrive.”

“I can do it,” he offers, thinking that the bandage isn’t serving its purpose if it remains loose. “I mean, I’ve dressed myself on my own before so I’m familiar with it.”

It’s probably the painkillers but something possesses you and you agree, your mind too out of it to take the words back. A part of you wishes you had, especially when your heart does a thing when he kneels on the floor and slowly takes your injured foot. You wiggle your toes in reflex, as if they’re shy, too, and Jungkook laughs at your silly antics, especially when you admit that you’re a little ticklish. 

But he softly looks at you right after and asks if he’s hurting you, and you shake your head, unable to say anything else and process that you really allowed this man - your boss and in-denial crush - to do this. 

You sit there, charmed by the way he looks determined to get this done. He removes the old bandage and wipes your ankle before wrapping it with a new one. His hands are large and quite rough but he’s very gentle, making sure to not lift your foot too high and that the bandage isn’t wrapped too tightly. Once he’s finished, he lays it on the table and looks up at you to ask if it feels okay.

“Yes,” you shyly smile. “Thank you. That was, uh, that was really nice of you.”

He nods and stands up to throw the trash in the bin, wanting to quickly hide his smile at how wholesome you looked in thanking him. 

He proceeds to look around, taking more of your home in. There’s something very calming about it, and it’s more than just the plants that you have and the right amount of sunlight coming from the balcony door and kitchen window. There’s also something familiar, as he looks through your shelf of photos, seeing your mom and her partner for the first time. She looks a lot like you. She has a nice smile like yours, and she sees that same joy on her face as he’d seen on you, as she hugs you tightly in one of the pictures. 

The familiarity is similar to when he first had a whiff of your scent - old rose like the one his mother used to wear, one he remembers as a child when he still clung to her. There are those memories that stick with him. Others he doesn’t have anymore but that’s good, he supposes. Seeing your shelf, he sees all the good and tangible things you hold dear. 

“The photo on the far right, the one with Soomin and Jimin. We took that during my birthday trip using your gift,” you tell him. “It came out really nicely.”

“It did. Did you finish the film? What else did you take photos of?”

“We used it all up,” you smile. “And just a lot of the scenery and the three of us. We all divided them so we could have copies and just remember how fun that week was.”

“Good, that’s what I hoped.”

Jungkook stands there, his jacket now off so his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his hands are in his pockets as he looks through your shelf. You wonder what he’s thinking, what he’s seeing, if any of this makes him curious. It’s as if he’s taking in all the small parts of who you are that he can see displayed before him. He turns to you and your eyes meet again, and for a moment, it feels like you’re really seeing him and he’s really seeing you, like there’s something only both of you share and understand and want and can give.

But the doorbell ringing disrupts it, with you wondering who it could be since your best friends won’t arrive until an hour from now. Jungkook walks to the door and opens it, surprised to see Yoongi who’s just as surprised to see his friend in your apartment.

“Hey, you’re back. And… here,” you smile, attempting to stand up but Yoongi tells you to stay put. 

“I flew home last night and thought I’d visit and get you some food, but it seems like I’m second in line,” he says, his smug face causing you to glare at him. 

“I just wanted to make sure she was okay,” Jungkook defends. “I won’t stay long.”

“Of course you do. And I won’t stay long either. I don’t wanna disturb anything.” 

He smirks at his friend, prompting Jungkook to glare at him as well. 

“Yah, chill, you two. I’m really just passing by,” Yoongi reiterates, making his way now to sit on the arm of your sofa. “Just wanted to check on ___ and make sure she’s well-fed.”

“I’m injured, not starving, okay?” You groan. “But thanks. What have you got there?”

“Noodles, custard buns, and some tarts. Wasn’t sure what you’re into when you’re incapacitated,” Yoongi shrugs. 

“I’m very much mobile,” you correct him. “Just… slow and limping.”

Jungkook pulls your dining chair and sits in front of you, and the three of you talk as if this isn’t weird at all. You’re all colleagues - you and Jungkook consider Yoongi as your friend, but you don’t know if you should consider your boss as such, and you don’t know if he considers you the same. You’ve definitely experienced a lot of things that could qualify what you have as friendship, but even then, there’s something more about it, something a little more intimate, different, terrifying.

You brave through this dynamic and learn that Yoongi likes to tell Jungkook off a lot. It’s the kind of bluntness you expect from Yoongi’s no-nonsense attitude but it’s refreshing to see him be more straightforward towards someone like Jungkook who you’re used to seeing as commanding and serious. Jungkook takes the hits, seemingly unbothered as they bicker, and it’s another side of him you enjoy seeing - the smiles and laughter are natural, and there’s this comfort about him that you suddenly want more of.

The time passes quickly, with the doorbell ringing again signaling that your friends have arrived. Yoongi gets up first to open the door, greeting them who do the same. You manage to stand up with Jungkook telling you to be careful, and when it dawns on them who else is in your apartment, Jimin’s face turns sour and Soomin’s goes from confused to amused. 

Jungkook looks taken aback by the cold welcome, but he manages to introduce himself to them.

“Oh, we know,” Jimin says dryly. “You’re the one who gives her so much work that she had to do overtime again and that’s why she got hurt.”

You feel the tension come like a strong wave and you try to lower the level a little bit. 

“He also brought me to the hospital and got me some food,” you tell Jimin, whose bitterness isn’t unfounded. He did listen to you complain about this very man all those months ago. “He’s just checking up on me, making sure I’m alright, the way you guys are.”

“As we should,” Jimin huffs. “At least we don’t cause you any injury or pain.”

“You don’t. But you do make things better so could you do that, please?” You say, opening your arms for a hug, something to appease him before it gets even more tense. 

Jimin has the sweetest smile but wouldn’t be afraid to burn anyone down with his looks if they deserve it. Jungkook did at one point, but you obviously feel very differently about that now. But still, you glance at the man, hoping this encounter isn’t putting him off too much, and with the slight tinge of guilt in his eyes, you suppose it hasn’t.

Jungkook turns away, partly because a reminder of how he’d treated you before makes him regret even more how you both started, and partly because seeing you affectionate with any man - even if it’s your best friend - makes him a tiny bit jealous, only because it’s something he can’t be with you. Seeing you that way with Hajoon months ago was different; Jungkook had been more shocked than anything. But this time, given that his attraction towards you seems to grow every second, and that he’s been wanting nothing more than to comfort you, there’s more of that feeling of loss, of hope that it could be him one day, even if that’s something that’ll probably never happen.

“I know you dislike him but tone it down for now, okay?” You whisper to Jimin. “My place is too small to contain all this tension.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Seeing him just reminds me of what you had to go through because of him,” he says before pulling away. “But he did help. And well, Soo and I are still upset that you didn’t tell us sooner. You know we would’ve driven here on Thursday night.”

“I know, and that’s exactly why. You both had something big going on and I could wait,” you reply, a reason you give them everytime. 

Wanting a short breather from all this, you excuse yourself and ask Soomin to help you with something in the bathroom, and she heads there right away.

“Can you make sure that those two don’t murder each other?” You whisper to Yoongi as you gesture towards Jimin and Jungkook.

“It would be entertaining if they did, but yes, I’ll try,” he chuckles.

You walk to where Soomin is and after closing the door, she looks at you with the same amusement that she’s had since she arrived.

“What in the romance drama is this!” She exclaims, lowering her voice when you scold at her to keep it down. “All your three men coming to your home to make sure you’re okay? Talk about making an impression.”

“They aren’t my men, okay!” You scowl at her. “They all just happened to have the same thought. And no, Jimin doesn’t count.”

“Whatever,” Soomin laughs. “It’s just… I know you’re hurt and that you’ll be okay but it’s just amusing to see them show up for you like this. Especially the big boss. He’s way hotter up close, I can tell you that.”

“Please don’t remind me,” you frown. “I wish there was a potion I could take to make him look unattractive to me so that I’d stop being so giddy at everything he does. And fuck, Soo, I haven’t been like this in ages. Or ever.”

“Well, you haven’t been this accepting of someone’s attention, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah, and I’m being silly. I might just be putting myself up for disappointment here,” you groan. “I mean, I don’t even know what I’m feeling, but I know what I’m not supposed to feel. And he’s not making it any easier.”

“Your situation isn’t easy in the first place, hun. And there are many reasons why,” she sighs, wishing there was a way to uncomplicate this very complicated relationship you have with Jungkook. “But whatever it is you think you shouldn’t feel, think about what he may be feeling, too. He wouldn’t be making all this effort since Thursday night for this to just be nothing.”

“I wish none of that means anything. That’s probably gonna be easier, right? That he doesn’t feel anything remotely close to what I do? That’s probably better than dealing with all the complications.”

“Maybe, but we don’t really know,” Soomin says, pulling you in for a hug. “But also think about how new and different this feels. It might be worth it in the long run.”

You fall into her embrace, knowing that during the toughest times of your life, this was your saving grace. It’s no different when you’re confused and in need of guidance, and though you’ve always made decisions for yourself with knowledge of the consequences, Soomin was there to back you up during the times when you were going in somewhat blindly. She wants you to be happy, and you won’t really know if continuing to feel what you do about Jungkook will make you so. If all else fails, well, you could always go back home, or maybe return to Busan and start a life there. Jungkook will just be a memory; you hope to the heavens it’ll be a good one.

You shake away the thoughts and finally go back out and are relieved to find some peace. Jimin’s washing your dishes while talking to Yoongi who wipes them dry. Jungkook sits on your sofa, looking around quietly, but he stands when he sees you approach him. 

“I’ll go ahead,” he says, gesturing towards the door. “I… I think you’ve got everything you need.”

“Let me walk you there,” you smile. 

He’s outside the door when you thank him again then apologize if Jimin made him uncomfortable.

“It’s okay. I’d be protective of my best friend, too, if I learned how their boss treated them,” he responds.

“I, uh… those were hard times and I may have complained quite a bit about you,” you pout. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sure I deserved it,” he chuckles. “You’re lucky you have them. I mean, my best friends tease me a lot and say shit about me to my face and behind my back.”

“Oh come on, Seokjin and Taehyung love you,” you laugh. “I’ve seen it, but you all also said you’re like that to each other; it’s how you guys grew up. I mean, I was the new girl in school and Jimin and Soomin have been protective since day one, whereas your best friends have shown you tough love since you were kids. They said you never accepted their affection so they switched tactics.”

“That’s fair. I was always shy and then turned into a bitter, introverted child. There was no transition, I guess. Now we’re adults and have just stuck with each other because we’re all we’ve ever known.”

“Well, you make decisions to stand by people, Jungkook. They do with you and you do the same with them. Plus, you’re not that insufferable,” you tease. 

“At least you don’t think so. Not anymore, I hope,” he says softly, looking away. 

“People deserve second chances. You gave me some and more and I… I’m glad you did. I at least get to see this side of you that’s helped me a lot these past months. I’m thankful. And I hope you know that.”

Jungkook just nods, unable to reply through words again. You let him, knowing it’s his default response. He walks to his car and turns around for a final goodbye, leaving you in anticipation for when you’d be with him again.

“Well, that was a long goodbye,” Yoongi says, surprising you as he stands behind you. “And no, I didn’t hear anything.”

You turn to him with a playful frown. “I was just making sure that Jimin didn’t make him feel too bad. I mean, I know I complained a lot but still. I didn’t want Jungkook to think I cursed his existence or something.”

“You did at one point though,” Yoongi laughs. “But it’s acceptable. Jungkook was rude, and heavens know how much shit I gave him for treating you the way he did.”

“You did, huh?”

“I always told you I’d look out for you, ___. Whatever happened or didn’t happen between us, I was always going to have your back.”

“You’re heaven-sent, Min Yoongi,” you smile. “I wish I could do half as much as you do for me.”

“You do more. I hope you don’t ever doubt the comfort that your presence gives to people. Maybe that’s what it’s done to Jungkook. And I know he hasn’t felt much of that in years.”

It’s Yoongi’s last words before he says goodbye, and they stay in your head for the next few days. Maybe Soomin’s right - all that Jungkook has been doing might mean something, and you hope that finding out what it is will all be worth it.

Jungkook decides to meet with his friends at one of his favorite restaurants for lunch. All he planned on doing today was visit you and he has nothing else going on for the rest of it. The club scene has become boring for him, and going to one only to bring home a woman to hook up with is no longer appealing, not when you invade his mind all the time.

Being welcomed in your home was refreshing. And even if it was awkward, meeting your friends allowed him another peak into your world. You choose the people you allow in, and you don’t choose many of them. The ones you do stay for a long time, and that’s the kind of person you seem to be. You value relationships so much that’s why you don’t have many of them, and with all that you went through and the vulnerability you’ve both shown each other, he’s started to hope that one day, he’d be deserving of that, too. 

“So did you feel like a fish out of water being there with her actual friends?” Seokjin asks. “Because I don’t know what you’d consider your relationship with her is. Boss-assistant feels too simplistic at this point. Are you friends? Are you more? Or is that all too ambiguous?”

“I don’t… know,” Jungkook sighs. “We’re all that but we also aren’t. We’ve gone through so much that it doesn’t seem like there’s a way to define what we are. But I feel like I’ve seen her at her most vulnerable and we’ve connected because of that.”

“And what about you? Have you been vulnerable in front of her?” Seokjin asks.

Has he? Jungkook thinks. Maybe that first time he asked for your help with his new role but he supposes it’s nothing compared to what you’ve shown him, intentional or not.

“Not really. I… I don’t let myself be. That’s still distance I need to establish,” Jungkook reasons.

“More like, because you know that if you do show that side of you, you’re scared you’ll find out that she’ll understand, and that having her next to you is what you need to heal whatever parts of you that are still hurting?” Seokjin counters. 

“I don’t want to need her, you know that. There’s a boundary I shouldn’t cross. She’s my assistant and—”

“You’ve been treating her like the most important person and it’s not hard to miss,” Taehyung interjects. “You were never like this, not since Chaerin.”

“I don’t even know what it is about ___ that just makes me consider risking things, you know?” Jungkook sighs. “I’m always torn with what our reality is and what we could be but I’m afraid that if we cross that line, we’ll have to make sacrifices. I… I’m finding myself wanting her around all the time. When she leaves, I want her to stay. When she’s not there, I want her to come. But at the same time, I don’t want her too close because I don’t know if I can have her or if I can want her. Because I don’t know what of me I can give that won’t hurt her,” he admits, with a bit of help from some whiskey.

“Maybe if you let yourself be vulnerable, you’d know,” Seokjin advises. “Some people would run and hide but there’s always that one person who wouldn’t. That might just be her. And then you’ll learn what you can give, too.”

Jungkook lets his friends’ words settle and then thinks about them throughout the night that he spends all alone in his penthouse, with another glass of whiskey in his hand as he looks out the balcony. A part of him wants you to run and hide when you see who he really is, what he hides and what he’s ashamed of. Maybe that would be easier, he thinks; maybe that would hurt less.

You return to work the next Tuesday, having gone to the hospital the day before and being cleared to return to your usual routine. Jimin and Soomin stayed with you until that evening, with you rejecting their insistence to stay another day. You can manage, you assure them. You’re able to walk properly now and would just need to do daily exercises, wear the elastic bandage for another week, and forego the heels. 

Jungkook’s pleased to know that you’re doing better and makes sure you don’t walk around if you don’t need to, so he’s been the one going to see you when he needs something. He also postponed some potential site visits for the project that he and Hoseok are working on until you’re fully capable, which is why it’s three weeks later when you find yourself in the car with him, on the way to some towns in nearby provinces on an early Friday morning. 

Mr. Ri called in sick today and Jungkook didn’t want to deal with a chauffeur he doesn’t know, so he decided to drive instead, thinking it’s more efficient that way. These are all initial checks and being that you’re the only one from his team who’s privy to the details, he wanted you to join him as a sounding board and also to get your own thoughts about what you’ll be seeing. He has a vision in mind and he needs to translate it properly; you’ve been helpful these past months in making sure he’s able to do that.

Disregarding what this time alone with you would do to him, Jungkook meets you in his penthouse, telling himself to focus on only one thing today, and that’s finding the right place for his planned project. 

You leave early for a quick stop at a cafe and then head north to some towns in Gyeonggi province. There are some properties and land that are up for sale, and you prepared the information about them beforehand, allowing Jungkook to play around with the timeline and budget in his mind, even drawing rough drafts on his iPad as he assesses them. You’re both in work-mode, discussing each site on the way to the next one, with you searching for more details along the way and him, stopping on the side of the road to add an idea that he comes up with on the spot. 

It’s a little chaotic, as his mind goes from one thing to another, but you suppose this is how Jungkook naturally is. You’ve seen him perform his duties in various ways, but this is when you see the most raw side of him, and it’s quite the privilege to see. He always said he preferred the creative aspect of the job, which is why he enjoyed his time in Singapore, handling the design department. You contend that he’s grown tremendously in his executive role. As Hoseok has said, Jungkook relates to his staff better now, and has even engaged and attracted more partners with his great ideas.

You’re quite sentimental going on this trip with him. It wasn’t long ago when you were going to work with anxiety, anticipating his next criticism so you can prepare yourself, and then going home feeling like a failure. So much has happened since then, and you could even say that you’ve found comfort in your daily routines; doing something different like this is now exciting and something you look forward to, especially since it allows you to go outside, see the sights, and breathe the cool air. 

“You okay there?” He asks, noticing your silence.

“Yeah. I was just thinking how 10 months ago, this would’ve stressed me out so much.”

“What? Going on a road trip?”

“Pretty much going anywhere with you,” you laugh. “Car rides even with Mr. Ri made me freak out, and I was so scared to make a mistake or make you wait for information that I couldn’t find. And now here we are - I survived the last five hours with you and not once did you groan at me.”

“Wow, I must’ve been a really terrible boss to make your standard for a non-stressful day to be that low,” he laughs before turning serious. “But I… I’m… I’m sorry, for all the stress and anxiety that I caused you. I was being selfish and irrational about it. I hate change and you were the biggest one, even with my new role. I took out all the frustration on you and I shouldn’t have.”

He says more than he expected, but it’s also the apology that he should’ve given—that you deserved —months ago. 

“I forgive you,” you say softly, glancing at him before returning your eyes towards the road. “I always knew my limits and I guess I let you push it and that was on me. I could’ve stood up to you, too.”

“You did though, more than once. And that knocked some sense into me.”

“I guess,” you hum. “And then things improved and I’m just glad they did.”

There’s a prolonged silence after, as you both opt to bask in the scenery around you. There’s that understanding and acceptance of how things were and that regardless of what’s going on in your own minds, you at least have this. You think to yourself that this just makes leaving that much harder, but at least this is one more memory you could take with you.

You make it to Hwacheon in Gangwon past noon, and this is where you spend most of your time in, as the sites are spread out around the county. There are areas tucked away in the mountains while there are those closer to town with grand views. It’s in the latter where you grab some lunch and go through some of his plans, and you take in his ideas, learning from him in the process. 

It’s late in the afternoon when you inspect the final site, which is in an area in the neighboring Chuncheon county. It’s got potential for another project that CEO Jeon is looking to do, and with your notes completed, you and Jungkook start the trip back home. You would reach the tail-end of the Friday night traffic by the time you return to Seoul, the GPS says, and so both of you savor the sky’s changing colors as it transitions to the evening, letting the soft sounds of the radio replace the silence.

Barely 30 minutes in, the rain starts to pour, and it’s seconds later when it dawns on you what that means, as you hear heavy breathing next to you. You turn to Jungkook whose hands are tightly gripping the wheel, with sweat lining his eyebrows despite the cool temperature.

“Did the forecast say it was gonna rain?” He asks, the mix of panic and frustration evident in his voice. 

“Yes, but not until late in the evening,” you say, checking your phone to make sure you got the correct information. 

Your heart breaks upon realizing that at midday, the weather station warned that there was going to be a thunderstorm, with rainfall coming in around this time. You inform Jungkook, and despite all the progress in your relationship, your heart breaks a second time when he says that you should’ve constantly checked, that the weather changes all the time and you should’ve been mindful, and that now you’re both gonna be stuck on the road because he’s unable to drive and you don’t know how to. His tone is harsh, accusatory, as if it was something you could control, as if everything was your fault, just like how it was before.

Jungkook stops on the side of the road as the downpour continues, and he leans his head on the steering wheel now as he takes deep breaths. You tell him he could breathe better if he sits straight up, but he ignores you. 

A part of you wants to remark how it’s ironic that just earlier, he was apologizing for the way he treated you, and now it’s like you’ve both taken a few steps back. You want to say it’s not your fault, that you wouldn’t even have known that the rain affected him this way if you hadn’t seen him be nervous about it when you went home from the gala last year. But you think about the way his eyes looked earlier, how they filled with worry and fear, like there was a sense of powerlessness that you know a little about. 

So you settle for a bit of grace and understanding, thinking they’re what he needs.

“I don’t know why this is on me,” you say softly. “I didn’t know how bad it was but if I did, I would’ve checked constantly and I would’ve had us turn back the second I saw that forecast. And if I could drive, I’d drive us back as fast as I could. I’m sorry.”

He slows his breathing and sits up. His hands still tightly gripping the wheel but his eyes are downcast, and you suppose there’s more sadness than anger, so you stop pressing your nails on your skin, which you’d started doing in anticipation of him arguing with you about it.

“I don’t like the rain,” he shares, his voice low. “I… I have a bad memory of it as a kid and I just get reminded whenever it starts. I panic when it gets louder and I just… I can’t stay out here when that's all I can hear.”

His honesty surprises you. You can’t imagine how it must’ve been like for him, even more that he has to suffer through this right now in front of you, considering how hard it is for him to express how he feels. You don’t know how bad this weather is gonna go, and at this pace, the thunderstorm will probably reach you by the time you make it back to Seoul. So you do what you do best, and that’s to come up with options. 

“There’s a guesthouse not far from here,” you say after checking the map. “It’s the closest one. We could spend the night there and wait out the rain. That’s better than being stuck here or continuing the drive back to the city.”

He nods in agreement, knowing there’s not much he could do. He doesn’t want to be stuck here; even more, he doesn’t want to unload on you nor have you witness how much worse it could be. 

He keys in the address you give him while you call the property and ask if they still have available rooms. They do, so you reserve two and sigh in relief that that’s one problem solved.

You make it there in 15 minutes. Jungkook heads out the car first with the rain having eased up a bit, and you retrieve his luggage from the trunk, the one he keeps there for emergency trips and instances like this one. It has enough clothes for a day, and you’re glad that at least he has something to change into.

You make it inside and meet the owners then introduce yourself, stating that you reserved two rooms. 

“I’m so sorry but we had to give up one of them,” the woman says. “A family came in with a baby and we couldn’t turn them away. The weather’s going to get worse tonight and we try to accommodate as many people as we can. I hope you understand.”

“That’s… that’s okay,” you say, knowing you would’ve done the same. 

The thought of sharing a room with Jungkook feels too intimate and definitely not good for your heart, added to the fact that you’re probably not his favorite person right now, so you try to find a way out. You turn to the living room and see the sofa that’s big enough for you, so you ask if you can just stay there instead.

“Our cleaners will be using that space since they can’t go home due to the rain. I’m sorry again, Miss. Your room has twin beds so I hope that eases your worry somehow.”

“It’s fine, we’ll manage,” Jungkook says from behind you, hoping to the heavens that he will. He has one fear, and that’s you seeing how he really is during times like this.

He takes the key and walks up the stairs to the room you’re given. It’s spacious with a fair enough distance between both beds. He takes the one farther from the window then gets his clothes from his bag. It dawns on him that you don’t have your own with you, so he offers you his sweatshirt. 

“It’s okay,” you shake your head. “It’s gonna be cold and you’re gonna need it.”

“So will you. You can’t be in wet clothes, not in this weather.”

“It’s happened before,” you shrug.

“___, just take it,” he insists, placing the item on your bed. “I have a top here that I can wear and the blankets will be enough. This is loose but it’s at least better than damp clothing. And you can go ahead in the bathroom. I’ll just give Mr. Ri a call.”

You nod and head out, taking his jumper and the towel with you. You’re given some basic toiletries, and the warm shower is just what you need for that bit of comfort after a stressful evening. As you’re about to dress up inside, you hear a knock on the door.

“I asked the lady if they had spare pajamas for you and she gave me a set,” Jungkook says from outside. “I’ll leave them on a stool by the door.”

You wait for him to leave before getting them and putting them on. It’s a plain set of shorts and shirt that’s a little big but it’s way better than your damp skirt and blouse, which the owners offered to wash and dry for you for tomorrow.

You return to the room with Jungkook sitting on the floor, and you give him back his sweatshirt that he turns down. 

“I’m fine,” he insists. “Don’t you get cold easily? You’ll need that.” 

He walks out, barely meeting your eyes. You’re sitting on the edge of your bed when he returns half an hour later, the sight of him with damp hair in black sweatpants and a white sleeveless top doing things to you. But you shake the thoughts away, especially as he once again creates that distance. He doesn’t look at you when he settles in bed, nor when he switches off his bedside light, and definitely not when he turns around to face the other way. You sigh to yourself, feeling even more alone now with him acting like this.

You can’t really blame him though. Dealing with something that elicits painful memories is difficult, and you understand the tendency to isolate yourself and push people away when that happens. It’s what you do sometimes, but still, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt you a little when Jungkook does this to you, considering how good your relationship has become, regardless of your stupid attraction.

Settling in your bed, you decide to turn around and face the window. You focus on the droplets creating their own artwork on the glass, in hopes that it’ll help you take your mind off Jungkook, even if he’s literally just a few feet away from you. The last thing you want is a strained relationship, and you hope that this doesn’t make him fall back into his old ways. Although he’s experienced a few stressful moments these past months, they weren’t personal, and you suppose situations like this are when his emotions truly come out.

The rain has gotten stronger again and you’re pleased that Jungkook isn’t awake for this, based on the soft snores you hear. You’re about to fall asleep, the sound hypnotizing you a little, but that’s when the first blare of thunder strikes, causing you to jerk in bed in surprise. It used to scare you because of what it reminded you of, but you learned how to manage it after the first hit; the succeeding ones are no longer triggering. In fact, you just think of how it used to drown out the sounds of what you were truly afraid of.

Just then, you hear distressed moans. The sounds of frantic breathing and shifts on the bed follow right after. And then there’s a restrained groan, like a call for help that doesn’t fully come out, and that’s what alarms you. You immediately get off the bed and rush to Jungkook’s side. You see that he’s still asleep, his body - now uncovered by the blanket - is tense, despite his efforts of turning about. The low sounds of almost-cries convince you that he’s having a nightmare. 

Thunder hits once again and it’s much louder this time, eliciting another frantic response from Jungkook. He’s kicking the covers while gripping the sheets, and with another roar of thunder that causes him to scream, that’s when you decide to wake him up. 

“Jungkook, hey, listen to me,” you say, sitting on the edge of the bed and keeping his head still with your hands. You’re able to control him as he continues tossing and turning, repeating his name until he slowly opens his eyes. “Hey, you’re safe with me, okay? Just focus on my voice.”

He’s awake now and you see the worry in his eyes, but you talk to him calmly, wanting him to trust you. It works, as he nods and slows down his movements. But he’s still breathing heavily, his lips chattering and the rest of his body shivering. 

You anticipate another hit of thunder, and you’re able to shield him from it, pressing your palms on his ears, trying to drown out the sound. You stay that way, thumbing his temples as you tell him it’s okay, that you’ve got him, and that it’ll be over soon. You hold his gaze to let him know that you’re not going anywhere, and his pretty eyes that often look so far away are now overtaken with fear. 

“Just look at me, alright? And follow my breathing,” you instruct him, your voice as gentle as you can make it despite your own worries for him.

He does as you say, his hands gripping your wrists as if to keep them there, and you assure him that you won’t let go until he says so.

“You’re doing good, just keep breathing,” you repeat, pacing your breathing with his until you’re doing it together. 

You don’t know how long you stay that way, with his head between your hands and your eyes locked on his. It takes a while, but the thunder eventually stops and the rain eases. Jungkook finally calms down and you slowly release him from your hold. You watch him shut his eyes, as if in desperation to let everything go, before he opens them again. 

“Is that better?” You ask, moving just a bit farther from him to give him space, but you remain close, wanting to be next to him in case something happens again.

“Yeah, that was, uh… that was tiring,” he huffs.

“I think the thunder has passed but if it happens again, I’ll be here, okay?”

He nods, his soft and desperate eyes now looking at you to express his gratitude. You want so badly to hug him, to hold his still-shaking hands and assure him that he’s not alone, that you won’t let anything hurt him for the rest of the night, and that you understand it all - whatever it is he’s afraid of, and why he keeps it all to himself.

But you suppose that’s going too far. You’re afraid that you’d want to stay there, even more if he doesn’t want you to. So you nod as well and think that he at least has this to comfort him, that he at least knows you’re just there.

You walk back to your bed and lie down, facing him this time. You smile, wanting that assurance to be the last thing he sees before he falls asleep again. Jungkook does the same as he settles under the covers, patting it down so he could see you better. You both stay there, safe in your corners, your eyes telling each other things you can’t say.

Whatever distance you felt earlier has shortened. Right now, with both of you falling asleep to each other’s view, he’s never felt so close.

The morning after heavy rain is always bittersweet. There’s the reality of the damage it caused but you also can’t deny that it gives life to other living things. What it also does is make way for clear skies and give you that fresh, rainwater scent of the grass and the trees. It’s what you see and smell when you open the bedroom windows, reminding you that the evening has passed and the worst is over. 

You spot Jungkook seated on one of the chairs in the garden, and you hope that the view is making him feel better, with the nightmare from last night slowly drifting away from his mind. You dress up in the dry clothes you find hanging on the doorknob of the room then head downstairs, surprised to see food prepared in the dining area. The tofu stew and grilled mackerel are so appetizing, and the loud rumbling of your stomach reminds you that you didn’t eat last night, with all the stress making dinner your last priority.

“Hello, dear. It was a pretty hard evening so we prepared something for our guests,” the owner says, her radiant smile reflecting the brightness of the day. “You may call your friend outside so you can both eat and get ready for a long drive home.”

You thank her then call Jungkook, his eyes brightening when he walks back inside and sees the food. He engages in conversation with the owners, asking about this town and the surrounding ones, and what their appeal is to non-residents. You gauge that he’s doing a bit of research himself, and you think he’s at least not too out of it to still do so.

“You’re free to stay until noon,” the owner informs you. “You can enjoy the view outside; it’s really pretty now that the sky has cleared. I’ll be making tea shortly as well.”

Jungkook says he’ll return to the garden and you wait for the hot drinks before following him. You’re unsure if he wants you around but you try, sitting next to him then sighing in relief when he doesn’t move away.

“I was 10 years old when my parents sent me and my brother to a cabin somewhere in Hwasun,” he starts. “I thought they were coming with us but it was just me and Jeong-sik and some staff. He and I never got along. If he wasn’t ignoring me, he was teasing me. But that day, he convinced me to play hide-and-seek, saying that by the time he finds me, our parents would be back. We were outdoors and I ended up wandering too far, so close to the woods that I couldn’t find my way back. My brother hadn’t come and I was getting scared. And then it started to rain.”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”

“It started getting stronger and the skies had become so dark, I could barely see anything,” he continues, his eyes fixed towards the mountains faraway. “The rain made the ground slippery so I decided to just sit by a large tree and hope someone would find me. It felt like hours and maybe it was. The thunder was so loud then and it kept going and going and going. And I was drenched and all alone, and no matter how hard I screamed, no one could hear me.”

“I’m so sorry, Jungkook,” you say, feeling your heart break as he narrates a painful memory that you can relate with. 

It’s only close to what you experienced yet it feels so real to you. You can feel his fear and his pain in the tremble of his voice, in the way he grips on the edges of the bench, in the way his jaw clenches at the memory, like it’s one he’s tried hard to bury yet can’t get rid of, no matter how hard he tries. 

But this feels so personal, and you don’t want him to feel like he needs to share it with you.

“You don’t have to explain,” you add. “I know it’s difficult to share something like that.”

“But I want to,” he responds, turning to you now. “Because I’ve carried the memory with me for 20 years and I’ve been dealing with it all on my own. But that’s not an excuse to treat you the way I did last night. That’s not a reason for me to take it out on you and especially to blame you. That was wrong of me and I’m sorry, ___. I…”

He looks down, perhaps trying to gather the courage he needs to be honest with you, to be vulnerable with you.

“I don’t want you to think that I didn’t need you because I did,” he adds. “I was scared and I didn’t think I needed you but you were there and I’m so sorry.”

You sit there and watch him cower onto himself, and somehow you see the little boy who was scared, who was wondering why he’d been left alone, who was waiting for someone to come find him or perhaps… someone to sit there and be with him until the rain stopped. There’s a lot he carries; there’s also a lot he buries, as if there’s a bottomless hole within him where he keeps everything hidden but it still feels too heavy, too much, taking from him every time he hides something new. 

You don’t say anything for a while, as you start to see Jungkook for who he really is. You feel the weight of his words and how much it took for him to say them. It’s not that his experience makes him different, but now that you know the pain he’s been carrying with him, you’re able to see the other parts of him that he’s unable to show, perhaps too afraid that someone wouldn’t understand, or that they wouldn’t stay if they found out why he keeps his distance and why he pushes people away.

Your silence prompts him to look up. You meet his eyes and see the sadness in them and it feels like he needs more than just forgiveness.

“We do things we don’t mean to when we’re afraid,” you tell him. “It doesn’t always mean we intend on hurting them. And I understand that, more than you know. I’ll never take that against you.”

Jungkook nods, shifting again towards the view as he lets your words sink in. He was hoping for forgiveness, but he got so much more. Maybe there’s a reason why you’ve been patient and gentle with him ever since the beginning. Perhaps you’re carrying your own burden and painful memories that you’re unable to share and deal with, too, and though he’s nothing like you, there’s comfort in knowing that you’re the same somehow.

He senses you turn back to look at the mountains, and the silence prompts him to continue the story of an experience he’s only shared twice before - once to his best friends and another time with Chaerin, all of whom have seen this side of him - the scared and vulnerable side. They were understanding and supportive as well, trying to find ways to comfort and help him deal with it. You’re the third and the one he’s known the shortest time, yet he feels more comfort with you than anyone who’s ever tried.

“I fell asleep at that tree while waiting,” he recalls. “The next thing I know, I was being carried back to the cabin. The rain had stopped but it was still dark, and I was tended to until I fell asleep again. I was sick for days and I didn’t see my parents until we were back in Seoul. It’s just a hard thing to remember. I know we have selective memories and I always wish that’s one thing that I don’t ever have to remember but life isn’t that kind, I guess.”

“It isn’t. But we learn to face those fears though, and manage them. It’s the only way we can get through it,” you say.

“Have you?” He asks, wondering if that’s another similarity he shares with you. 

“Not really. I wouldn’t be alone and where I am if I have,” you say. “But I’m trying. And I’ll continue to.”

“That makes one of us,” he sighs. 

“Well, it’s not always easy if you’re not quite sure what you’re really afraid of,” you respond. “Is it just thunder?”

“Yeah… but once the rain starts, it tells me that thunder could come. It doesn’t always but it’s what my brain tells me. Then I get anxious and I… I don’t know what to do. Like I’m paralyzed and unable to think or move. I just… stay there and sometimes, I don’t even know what’s happening.”

“Well, it rained when I got injured,” you remind him. “But you managed to get me to the hospital. And you stayed with me. That’s definitely something.”

“You were hurt and it was more important that you got treated,” he reasons. “That was scary and I guess my brain told me to get shit done that moment.”

“So… do I always have to be hurt for you to get through the rain when it starts getting bad?” You ask.

“Don’t talk like that. I can’t have you going through that again,” he frowns at you. 

The way he reacts to the thought of you being hurt gives you that warm feeling again. But it reminds you that you feel the same. You don’t want him to be scared, you don’t want him hurt, too.

“Fine. But when it starts to rain and you’re all alone and you feel like you can’t manage, you call me, okay?” You tell him.

“And what would that do?”

“That way I can talk you through it. Maybe go to you if you want me to.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because during the times I was afraid and alone, you were there,” you bravely say, turning to him and prompting him to do the same. “Sometimes something triggers those memories but then I think of how you stayed with me in the alley and in the playground and in my apartment. I think of you and I stop feeling scared. Maybe you can think of last night when it starts to get bad, too. And we can just create more of those memories to override the bad ones. Wouldn’t that be better?”

He savors your words, not realizing how much you’ve held onto your moments together. And he understands that now. The way you held him together last night is ingrained in his mind, and if that’s how it feels to be with you during his darkest moments, he starts to wonder how good it would feel during the good ones.

Maybe he’ll start with this, as you both sip citrus tea while looking at the lush mountains out on the horizon. He’ll continue with the scenic drive back to Seoul and a stopover at a cafe for some iced coffee and conversations about good memories. And at least for today, he’ll end with the sight of you walking to your apartment and then turning around to wave him goodbye, and then your smile giving him warmth on this cold afternoon.

The door shuts and he starts the trip back to his place - empty, lonely, just like how it’s been for years, all his pent up emotions bringing him to this point of isolation. But there’s you - the feel of your touch, the soothing sound of your voice, and the gentleness that got him through the night.

He misses you already. And much as he knows he’s in big trouble, thinking about you and wanting you is all he could do.

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[mudisgranapat]

III. Where the sun doesn't reach

Word count: 3,2 k

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley X F!Reader Content: zombie apocalypse, children, enemies to lovers, slow burn

Taglist: @poohkie90 @gaida-511 @synthe4u @beebeechaos Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Note: Sorry it took so long to update, I'll try to be more consistent. This one was hard to write because there is a lot of information i needed to put out there and i wanted to make sure it made sense. if it doesn't, please let me know so i can explain better on the next chapter. Enjoy :)

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There was something alien about seeing life growing in a rotting world. Her soft baby skin was a contrast to everyone around her, who wore their skins dirty, scarred, and calloused. He hadn’t truly noticed the baby at first. He had seen her, because soldiers like him were trained to see everything: a child, around a year old, with dark hair and dark eyes. 

As the Humvee hit a bumpy road, he noticed how her curly brown hair was secured in place by two pink elastic bands, the locks on the pigtails moving side to side. She held a pink stuffed dolphin with her chubby hands and swung her feet, making the pink socks go back and forth. She wore a pink jumper that seemed a number too big and was covered in drawings of pink unicorns and rainbow clouds. In Simon’s opinion, it was an obscene amount of pink. He didn’t know if he was more astounded by the combination or by the fact that it had been put together in the middle of an apocalypse. 

Her eyes were hazel, and they bore into Simon’s skull with innocence he thought he would never see again. Especially in a vehicle like that, made for war and destruction. They sat on the back of it, on the seats that faced each other, like he used to do when going on missions, and ‘odd’ didn’t even begin to describe seeing Cami there. Cami. It felt weird to know her name when all the other boys didn’t. Like it was their secret to share. As if she could read his mind, Cami giggled, somehow not fazed by his mask. He was used to people cowering in front of him, children hiding behind their mothers and peeking at him from behind their legs. The opposite seemed to apply to the baby in front of him, as she grinned showing her scarce teeth. 

“Stop staring at my baby.” He rolls his eyes, redirecting his stare to her with a new layer of hardness. The woman looked like she was in her early twenties, but she spoke with the authority of someone who had lived a dozen lives. Her nose and cheeks were covered in scarce freckles from the sun exposure, and her hair was tied in a ponytail, with loose strands now matted to her face in dried blood. Unlike Cami, she hadn’t escaped the crash unscathed. There was a large gash on her forehead from when she probably hit her face on the steering wheel, now covered in gaze from the medkit. Her lip was split and her nose bleeding. During the crash, the instrument panel from the car had collapsed, causing a gnarly knee injury. “Stop staring at me”. He didn’t. She rolled her eyes. 

“Oh, don’t mind Ghost. He does that sometimes.” Johnny said in a joking tone, but lightly kicked Simon’s foot, secretly telling him to quit it. “I think it’s about time we do some proper introductions around here, don’t you think?” She gives him a small smile of approval, moving Cami in her arms. “My name is John McTavish, but you can call me Johnny or Soap, since the old man behind the wheel is also John. We usually call him by his last name, Price. Or Captain, but I feel like that won’t be exactly your vibe” 

“I’m not old, Johnny.” Price says behind the wheel with a sigh. 

“Sure, Grandpa.” Soap retorts, and Price lets another defeated sigh, focusing back on the road. Y/N laughs, and Cami laughs too, even though she has no idea what she is laughing at. 

“I’m Kyle Garrick, but you can call me Gaz. We still use our callsigns from when we served together.” He explains, poking his tongue out at Cami and making her laugh even more. This time, she even claps, letting her pink dolphin fall to the floor. She immediately frowns. Not even the car crash had been able to separate her from the toy, her little hands crushing it as she cried in the backseat, and now her face was starting to contort like the crying was going to start again. 

Simon reaches out to it at the same time Y/N does, but grabs it first due to his longer arms. “Ghost.” He introduces himself shortly, looking her in the eye. Neither of them breaks eye contact until Cami stretches her hands out towards the toy. 

“Dodo!” she screams, shaking a demanding hand in front of Simon. He’s taken aback by the sound of her voice, not expecting her to be able to talk. He hands her the dolphin and she gives him a big smile. He smiles behind the mask in return, a secret infatuation that he buries under the skull. He notices her gaze on him now, studying his reaction, and he has the urge to say ‘Stop staring at me’.

“Kamila is just learning how to talk”. At the mention of her name, she turns her head to Y/N, and shows her the stuffed animal with excitement. Kami wasn’t the only one to hang onto her personal belongings; Y/N had managed to grab a backpack she had taken with her from the house. “She is a bit shy, but once she gets used to you she can be quite the talker, although most of it is in her own language.” 

“It’s a beautiful name. Suits her well.” Soap says, smiling at them. 

“It’s Arabic, spelled with a K. Means ‘perfect’.” She kisses Kami on her nose. “What about ‘Soap’? What does it mean?”

“Let’s just say I’m pretty good at what I do. Clean with it.” He says with a smug grin on his face. “What about you? Any nicknames?”

“Well, there was a crackhead near my house that used to call me ‘strawberry’, because I liked to wear red lipstick. Until one day I got hit by a bicycle in front of him so he changed it to ‘smoothie’, since ‘I got mushed’.” She says using air quotes. 

Soap and Gaz burst out in laughter and Simon snorts, holding in his laugh out of ego. Price is too focused on the radio with Laswell to listen, probably debriefing her about what happened and the new addition to the group. “Peaceful neighborhood, I see”. Gaz tries to recompose, while the Scot is still doubled over, slapping his own knee. “Whereabouts did you live?”

“At that time, Liverpool, but I moved around a lot. My mother was a Journalist.” Her voice sounded distant at the last part. For most people, it was hard to talk about the past. They had lives that were worth living and never thought that they would have to watch it slip through their fingers. In that sense, being a soldier made things easier. They were always ready to pack their lives into one bag, and most of them had made peace with the thought that they might not come home whenever they stepped foot on the tarmac. Others, like Simon, didn’t have a home to come back to and found solace in the nomad nature of the profession. She coughs in an attempt to clear her voice and continues. “I followed in her footsteps, so that’s how I ended up here. I was investigating a corruption scandal in the Government.” 

“Always chasing a story. Is that how you got in trouble with the Resistance?” Gaz was good at getting information out of people. Like Price, he had a trusting face and a calming voice that quickly tore down people’s walls. 

Although Y/N had been previously reluctant to share information about her past, she knew that she didn’t have a choice now. They had saved her life and jumped into the crossfire to rescue her and Kami. She owed them answers. Taking a deep breath and rearranging Kamila in her arms, she starts talking. “When the first people got infected, I got curious. The story I had been writing had come to a halt after my main source stopped cooperating with the investigation, so I had been looking for a break. The virus seemed unrelated at first, but interesting enough to write a story about. So I started digging and came across some familiar names. The people I had been investigating for corruption had been dislocating funds from the Government for an unsanctioned project on biological weapons.”

The Humvee was quiet, except for the sound of the engine and Y/N’s voice. She looked at Kami again, now fast asleep in her arms. There was a softness in her eyes that Simon yearned for in his darkest thoughts. He dreamed of caring eyes that pulled him out of his nightmares, only to wake up alone, drenched in sweat. During nights like that, he would pour a glass of moonshine and sit on the old kitchen chair in the base. Time would pass as he stared at the glass, each second increasing the burning in his lungs. He ached to scream, to punch, to tackle the thoughts that tormented him and sink a knife in its gut. But he couldn’t, so he would just sit and stare at the alcohol-filled glass, imagining the liquid burning down his throat and numbing the ache in his chest. He would then get up and empty the glass on the sink, because the only thing he could hate more than himself was his father. He relished watching the moonshine go down the drain, a small victory in his demise, a promise that he would never become the man who buries his sorrow with glasses of booze. 

“I found a guy willing to talk to me. His name was Eric Rhodes, a brilliant scientist. He had been working on the project but got fired for asking the wrong questions. He thought that the virus he had been working on before he got sacked was the same one that was turning people into… Well, zombies. I guess that’s the technical term for it. At first, I thought it was just some conspiracy theory, you know? The guy gets angry because he got fired and needs to find someone to blame. But then he showed me solid leads, names, and notes he had been able to keep, detailing what he was doing in the lab.” 

“Did you believe in him?” Price asks from the front, now engaged in the story. Laswell had the same theory, that the apocalypse was a result of a biological weapon gone wrong, but hadn’t been able to prove it. Not that it would change a thing: they were already doomed, and whoever was to blame was probably dead by now.

“I didn’t, in the beginning. But after he showed me the documents… Yeah, I did. He stopped talking to me after that. I figured he got scared that I was going to rat him out. The virus was spiraling out of control by then, so I decided to reach out to him while the phones still worked.” She pauses, looking at Kami again as if to check that she is still safe in her arms. “His younger brother, Killian, picked up the phone. Told me they had sent someone to kill Eric, burn his house down with all the evidence. He said Eric had told him about me and asked for us to meet. He wanted to know more about the reason his brother was killed.”

“Killian Rhodes. That’s the guy who started the Resistance.” Simon points out in a low voice. He knows his tone is suggestive, that she is way deeper into this than they had previously thought. The silence is palpable in the atmosphere by that point. 

“Yes. He did. It wasn’t all bad in the beginning.” Simon scoffs and leans back on his seat. Her voice is more pleading now, trying to resonate with them. “Killian wanted to avenge his brother. I told him about the virus, and how Eric thought it was a biological weapon built by the Government. It was never meant to turn into this, I know it’s not what he wanted.” 

“You’re defending him? He tried to kill you. He sent people out to kill you and your kid!” Soap shook his head, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Killian died protecting me and our daughter!” Her eyes were glossy, but she refused to cry. She was determined not to show any weakness. “Don’t you dare try and blame this on him.” Her tone was angry and bitter. It wakes up Kami, and she tries to put her back to sleep, but to no avail. 

“Mommy sad?”

“No, mommy is fine, love. Go back to sleep.” But she doesn’t, alarmed now, looking at her mom with worried eyes. Gaz, Soap, and Simon also look at her, surprised by the revelation that Killian Rhodes is Kamila’s father. But she doesn’t give them time to digest the new information. “We made it to the first quarantine zone together, when things started to get bad. Killian had always been good at convincing people, talking about how the government was dirty and that they were better off on their own. With the rations and the way the soldiers were treating people, it didn’t take long before an insurgence was formed. We took them over and that’s when we started the Resistance.”

We. Simon couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He wanted to laugh and say ‘I told you so’ to Johnny, but the disbelief on the Seargent’s face was satisfying enough for him. If they thought they were helping an innocent girl, they were wrong. They were harboring the founder of the most prominent and deadly rebellion created in the apocalypse. Not that they were sophisticated criminals before, but they had caused enough trouble to get their reputation: either you were with them, or against them. And now they seemed to be more keen on that policy than ever. 

Price stops the car, looking at the backseats through the rearview mirror. “You have a lot of explaining to do.” Simon recognized that tone, and it meant that whoever it was directed to was in deep shit. 

She huffs. “I never asked for you to take me in. In fact, if I remember correctly, I was dragged here.” She gives Simon a pointed look, that aggravates him even more. 

“Then leave.” Simon stares her down. “But you won’t, will you? You know you don’t stand a chance against them on your own, so start talking.” His voice is low and threatening. He doesn’t look at Kami when he speaks. He knows his voice would falter. 

She bites her bottom lip and shakes her head, looking at the ceiling, trying to find shelter from the prying eyes that stare at her. “People started coming in from other quarantine zones, escaping totalitarian groups and ill-intended people. Other communities began to rise, but they weren’t as strong as we were. They wanted to weaken the Resistance so they spread word that Killian’s brother, Eric, was the one that created the virus. It drove him crazy. His brother had died trying to find the truth and now people were blaming him, trying to use his brother to taint his name. We were forced to step down and give up everything we had built. There was too much invested in the Resistance, too many people with too much to lose. Leadership changed, and we had to sit back and watch as what we stood for was deprived of its meaning. We just wanted to help people. We thought we could stop what would come next but we were wrong.”

“You killed people before that.” John said in a stern voice. 

“That was different. We didn’t start battles, we were forced into them. You can’t blame us for fighting back. There is no revolution without war.” She shifts Kamila in her arms again. “For fuck’s sake, you were in the army. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Don’t act like you haven’t done worse.” She says the last sentence looking directly at Simon. This time, he looks away. He knows he has done worse, much worse. For some reason, the fact that she would assume that of him hurts. 

“You did more than fight back. We’ve heard about what the Resistance has done.” Simon wants to hurt her back, remind her that no one gets to be innocent their whole life. 

“That was after Killian and I were forced to step down. We didn’t know what was going on. We thought that the foundation that we had built would be strong enough to last after we were gone, but things changed completely”

“Look, lass. We want to believe you. We really do. But you have to be honest with us.” Sometimes Simon wants to grab Johnny by the shoulders and shake him, so he would stop being so trusting, so willing. But it is also the reason why they became friends in the first place. Soap never judged him, as broken as he was. Whether he was Simon or Ghost, Soap would crack jokes and share a pint, and for that he was grateful.

“When we were forced to leave the leadership, Lawrence took over. He was ruthless and thought that the Resistance should be more than a safe harbor for people. Those are the stories you have heard, of civilians killing each other for no reason. We didn’t know how bad it was for the people outside, how Lawrence had been looking for groups and attacking them, forcing them to join the Resistance or killing them. He had no purpose, no direction, he just wanted power and he kept us blind to it all.”

“I’ve heard of Lawrence. He was killed.” Price’s voice still carries a somber tone. 

“I left right after that. He had been talking about how they were finally going to rise to their full potential, about how the Resistance was going to control what was left of the world. He was delusional, talking about how they were going to have enough firepower to kill whoever stood in their way. Killian and I knew we needed to leave by then, that the principles we had stood for were long gone and now the Resistance was just a power-thirsty militia. We only understood how serious things were when the military group arrived. They killed Lawrence and took control of what was left. Killian sacrificed his life so I could run away with Kami.”

“But why are they after you and Kami?” Price pressed further. “Why would a military group want to kill two civilians?”

“Because I’m the only one who knows their identity and their plans. I ran away with documents that could compromise them, photos and names of who operates the Resistance now.” She gestures towards the backpack that she had salvaged from the crash. 

“Why would they take over the Resistance but want to hide their identity? That makes no sense” Simon inquires, still skeptical of the story.

“Because they like to operate in the dark. That’s why they call themselves The Shadow Company.”

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me writing that plot twist: 🤭😝🤓

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #call of duty #john soap mactavish #simon riley x reader #john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Shades of Grey || CL16 {4}

Summary: Your happy ending. Warnings: 18+ only, fluff to make up for the hurt I have put you through. Word Count: 2k

F1 Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || - complete

Two Years Later

Even with the moulded plugs fitting snug in your ear you could hear the roar of the Miami crowd as you stepped out onto the grid. It had been a long road of recovery and few people believed you would ever make it back into Formula One. But one person did, and he was there to support you every step of the way. 

“And the third Leclerc has entered the track now and she is in a decent space to be getting points after a good qualifying round yesterday.”

You blocked out the commentators that wove their way around the cars and teams, hoping to get a word from a driver or two, and continued your walk up the starting positions. Suddenly your earplugs were pulled out with an irritating pop and the full force of the atmosphere threatened to deafen you as you turned to the newest Alfa Romeo driver.

“Nervous?” Arthur asked for the thousandth time since Williams announced you would be back in the seat and no longer the reserved driver just a few weeks ago.

“I think you and your brother have that covered,” you said as you looked ahead to where Charles was talking to the media from his place in P4. 

Charles had barely slept last night. He had laid awake, holding you close like he was afraid to let you go. He knew it was your dream to race again and he had watched you put in the monumental effort to regain your strength after waking from the coma but now that you were there he was having trouble letting go. 

He had hardly been able to concentrate during the free practices and especially the qualifier and you knew it had affected his pace. Instead of asking his team for updates on his lap times he was asking about yours, and when a yellow flag slowed the track down his heart rate had spiked in response until his team reassured him the flag was nothing to do with you.

It was almost more than he could bear just seeing the few burn marks forever seared into the top of your back and he made sure he kissed the marred skin softly everytime he curled himself up against you. He hadn’t said anything about it to you, but you could see the worry in his eyes as he watched you getting dressed into the fireproofs that had saved your life when the fuel tank had exploded two years ago. 

“You’re still wearing your ring,” Arthur commented, pulling you from the memory of your morning spent wrapped in Charles’ arms.

You looked down at the simple gold band on your finger, smiling at the knowledge that the date engraved on the inside represented the best day of your life. “I only just put it on, and I don’t plan on ever taking it off.”

You both turned at the sound of Charles’ voice as he bounded over after finally breaking free of the Sky News reporter and a wide grin greeted you. He threw an arm over his brother’s shoulders, his helmet hanging by his fingertips, while his other hand snaked around your waist and pulled you into his side so he could kiss your temple. 

“Ready to make history?”

Arthur grinned back and nodded. “Three Leclerc's racing in F1.”

“Does one by marriage count?” you asked with a laugh as they both looked offended.

“Your last name is Leclerc, is it not?” Charles dared as he nodded to the ring on your finger and bit his lip. 

“So long as you keep looking at me like that it will be,” you replied with a wink and Arthur tore himself out from under his brother’s arm. 

“Get a room,” Arthur said with a juvenile gag.

Charles smirked as he placed his helmet on the ground and sat against the rear tire of brother's car so he could pull you between his legs and suggest, “There is still 30 minutes to the race.”

“You only need 30 seconds,” Arthur joked before darting into the midst of his engineers where he would be safe from his brother. It was nothing new for the good natured sibling rivalry to spill over onto the track and as often as they were seen hugging, they were also seen trying to tackle each other down to the ground to settle some debate.

It didn’t matter that there were literally hundreds of thousands of people at the event and even more watching live on their tv’s at home, you wanted his attention solely on yourself and you cupped his jaw that was clenched after his brother's taunt. He slowly turned back to face you and you stared into eyes that were the perfect mix of green and gold, like autumn leaves just before they fell. 

“You look tired,” you murmured as you tipped his chin back so the sunlight chased away the shadows on his face. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I like it when it’s just us out here.” He leaned in and rested his head between your breasts but there was so much padding in the race suit it was almost impossible to feel. “You, me and the stars.”

“And the alligators.” You grimaced at the thought of the animals that populated the state and draped your arms around Charles’ neck. “I can’t wait to go home. No alligators, or snakes, or Florida Man.”

“I can’t wait to go home so I can have you all to myself,” he said as Arthur made his way back over, complaining about the PDA as he approached, “with no interruptions.”

“Sky wants an interview with the first couple to race against each other,” Arther said as he jutted a thumb over his shoulder to the reporter behind him.

“Have they been asleep for the past 5 years? Poor Yuki.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Charles groaned.

“What, Pierre's boyfriend? You know I’m kidding.”

His arms tightened around your waist as he held on a little tighter and shook his head and mumbled his response.

“Babe, you just motorboated me on live tv.” You gently pushed him back so his words wouldn’t be lost to the thick padding of the racing suit. “What did you say?”

He ran a hand through his thick tufts of hair, his wedding band catching the sunlight as he did so. “Please, don’t joke about anyone being in a coma.”

Your lips parted with a sharp intake of breath and a stab of guilt hit you in the gut. “I’m sorry, my love,” you apologised as you saw the hurt in his eyes. “I didn’t even think.”

Charles nodded and rose to his feet, his forefinger trailing up your neck to your chin to guide your head back. “I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about every single second today. You are my world, and I nearly lost you once already.”

“You’ll never lose me, Charles,” you murmured as you ran your finger over his wedding ring. “I’m yours, forever, like I promised in our vows, I’m yours in this life and the next. I found my way back to you once before, there’s nothing that could keep me from finding you again.”

The noise on the track fell away as Charles dipped his head to capture your lips, stealing your breath when his tongue traced along your bottom lip. Your lips parted for him and he moaned softly at the access he had been desperate for, shamelessly deepening the kiss in the middle of the grid.

The fifteen minute warning alarm sounded and you reluctantly pulled away, his hands tightening for a moment before he sighed and released you. “I’ll walk you.”

Thankfully the media crews had moved on so there were no interrupts after wishing Arthur well and heading further up the starting grid. Charles’ bright red racing suit stood out amongst the sea of dark blue Williams’ crew but he felt at home around your team like they were his own too. 

You grabbed your bottle of water and held it out to Charles since he had been busy talking instead of drinking. He gave you a small shake of his head but dutifully wrapped his lips around the straw and sipped the electrolyte infused water. When you pulled a few macadamia nuts from your hidden stash in the car he outright laughed. 

“Seriously?”

“As your wife I take the role of keeping you fed and watered very seriously,” you said as you picked one and lifted it to his lips that curled up in amusement before letting you feed him. 

“Satisfied?” he asked after chewing the snack and swallowing it. 

“With you, always,” you said with a wink before one of the engineers handed your balaclava over, followed by your helmet. “Ready?”

Charles inhaled slowly, his nostrils flaring and his lips pressing tightly together as he swallowed deeply, and he took the white balaclava from your hands. “I’ll see you at the finish line.”

The air turned heavy as he battled his fear and though you felt the same apprehension your focus was on easing Charles’ mind. Forcing a smirk onto your face, you brushed his dark hair back from his forehead. “You’ll see me in your rearview, right before I overtake you.”

Charles chuckled and pressed his lips to your forehead. “Would I still have to be your slave for a week?”

“Oh, babe, I don’t think a week would be enough for what I have planned with you.”

Charles pulled the balaclava over your head and straightened it with precision before stroking the top of your cheek that peeked out of the eye hole. “Win or lose, I’m yours.”

You reached up to his neckline where his own balaclava was tucked in so he didn’t have to carry it around and you pulled it over his head, brushing aside his hair that flattened nearly all the way down to his eyes. “I’m yours,” you echoed. 

The teams were starting to pack up and the grid was emptying as things got into serious race mode. Charles would have stayed until the very last second before he had to be seated in his car but you knew that wasn’t conducive to focusing on the race so you grabbed his helmet and pressed it to his chest. 

“Your cars looking lonely,” you said through the thickness in your throat. “Go.”

He was torn as his hands closed over yours and he looked down at his red and white helmet, the updated design holding both your initials and the date of your wedding as well as your racing number. Your’s was the same, only the colour scheme matched your car that had a complete overhaul and improvements since the accident. 

“Drive safe,” he rasped as his green eyes seared yours. He pulled the material of his balaclava down to free his lips and you did the same to seal the promise with a kiss.

“Sempre.” 

He started to walk away to finish his climb of the grid, two rows separating your places, but before he was out of ear shot you called out. “Hey, Chuck!” He turned with a bounce of his shoulders with a laugh that you couldn’t hear. “I love you.”

His palm slapped his chest twice before resting over his heart. “I love you too. Sempre.”

The first light turned red and you began your starting sequence. 

There was a moment where it felt as if the entire world held their breath and time slowed. Your eyes looked dead ahead but they saw more than just the five red lights ready to disappear and signal the eruption of chaos. You saw the vibrant flags in the grandstand, the baby blue of the sky above, the lush green grass past the first turn, and the bright red of the Ferrari two rows ahead. 

This was right where you were meant to be, not a single shade of grey in sight, no more voids of darkness. This was light. This was life. This was love.

Tagging: @alwaysclassyeagle @abeanontoast @theslytherinwriter @pjofics @91vhs 

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 rpf

[celenawrites]

The House of the Rising Sun - I

Summary -

Running to the enemy territory, asking for help was foolish.

It was even more foolish of you to think that their help will not cost you anything.

Note -

This is a first draft with minimum/no edits.

Updates will be slow due to a multitude of reasons.

No Y/N.

Reader is female, for the most part.

Chapter Summary -

You make a deal.

word count - 4.8 k

warnings - slow-ish build up, violent descriptions, threats, sexism, cursing, etc.

AO3 version

God, you were stupid. 

You had been told so your entire life - by your parents for believing you will be the master of your own fate, writing your life the way you want it to be; by your peers for wishing something different because they couldn’t comprehend why you wanted to run away from such a lavish, fulfilling life; and by your ‘beloved’ for even thinking that you’d be anything more than a fever dream rendition of ‘50s  Stepford wife that he would occasionally bring out to galas and parties in tight dresses that showed off your bosom a bit too much, hoping to curry favors with like-minded bastards who leered at you with heady eyes and hands itching to cop a feel of you. 

You feel the shame that comes with making the wrong choice - you can feel your ears burn and your eyes sting with tears, can feel your tongue turn to lead and your mouth dry up as if it’s filled with cotton. You inhale deeply, and you feel your throat bob painfully as you greedily gulp in any amount of air you can get in the clammy warehouse. 

It’s either this or getting locked in a cage forever. 

You didn’t even think of making a getaway the moment those men decided to bind your hands tightly and covered your head with a sack, cutting off your connection from the outside world entirely as they abducted you, hoping to get high praise from their boss for such a pretty catch. You feel your spine creep up with goosebumps as their disgusting hands touch you and manhandle you, forcing you to lie down in what you assume to be the trunk of the car. The sack over your head does a good job at hindering your sight, making it impossible to note the car or its license plate.

You stay stuck, occasionally moving and bumping around in the claustrophobic space and you can only pray to God that you make it out of this ordeal alive. 

For what feels like hours, you let your body sway with the movement of the vehicle and feel the extra tyres dig into your ribs at every bump or pothole, helpless to do anything at all. Eventually, the car comes to a stop and you are grateful that the constant moving and the smell of petrol didn’t make you spill your guts out in the back of the car, the sack over your head promising nothing but a pitiful death by choking on your own vomit. 

The trunk is opened and you are pulled upright, and all you are thankful for is that you are out of that closed box of a space and you can finally breathe. You feel disgust at the sweat that coats you, but sigh out in relief as the soft breeze caresses your skin as it cools your body. You do not resist as you are forced to walk, hearing nothing but a few uncomprehensive murmur behind you as your ears buzz and your mind screams at you to RUN RUN RUN RUN RU-

You shove that line of thought somewhere back in your mind, somewhere unreachable because you know, you fucking know that if you even slightly move in a way that seems threatening, these guys will not hesitate to empty their guns into your body. 

They just need an excuse for it anyway. 

You have decided to not give them that. 

You feel the creaky metal doors slam shut behind you, the noise reverberating in your ears; your lack of sight heightening your other senses, making you undergo a sensory nightmare of sorts as you try your best to survive in the unknown territory. 

You come to a stop, and feel someone guide you with their hand over the small of your back - the touch nauseating you, flashes of unpleasant memories making you shiver in fear and rage, and it is almost enough for you to strangle the guy; if not for your bound hands and the threat of death imminent in the air. 

One of the goons takes it upon himself to grab your arm, hard enough to dig it into your skin - a promise full of bruises and malice. Then he guides you roughly a few steps forward, before pushing you down on a chair. He unties your hand, and you barely get a second of soothing your reddened wrists before he’s tying you to the arms of the wooden chair with ropes that dig into you. He does the same with your legs, and it’s not long until your body is bound to the chair you’re sitting on. The ropes are thick, and you resignedly accept your defeat when it’s due - knowing that you clearly don’t have the strength to break out of your binds. You can only hope that these people at least have the decency to hear you out before they discard your body down the river. 

You feel the gun press against your temple, the gunny sack over your head doing nothing to cushion the pressure on your head. You can only hope that the safety is on, or the guy with the gun is not too trigger happy. You don’t want to paint your brains out on the grimy floor anyway. 

It’s just a precautionary measure, you console yourself. 

You won’t get shot. Not yet. 

You are disoriented by your surroundings when your sack is pulled over your head, exposing you to the people around you. The few white lights dangling over you blind you, and the ropes are already chafing against your sweaty skin, and the white bodycon dress sticks to you, already dirtied by the grime and the dust you have encountered along the way. 

I must be a sight for sore eyes, you think sarcastically, blinking away the pain to take in the men standing before you. 

You have heard of them. Of course, you have. You do not stay a part of your family without knowing about the infamous 141. The elite of the elite in the dark, dirty business your family partakes in. People rarely see them, some even wish on shooting stars to get a meeting of a lifetime with the members of 141 - some of the finest, richest men in England’s mafia. Almost all of the sea routes belong to them, allowing them to easily smuggle in arms, drugs and more into the Queen’s dear country. Allies of 141 benefit from their profits, and are even offered protection. Relation to 141 meant only one thing for people - pure, absolute power over everything. 

Your father had once hoped to be a part of this organization. He had endlessly tried to impress them, wishing nothing more than a lick of the power they held in their scarred, steady hands - all of the lies, deceit and illusions failing him, as he ultimately couldn’t carve a place for himself in the group. This failure of his made him jaded, angry at the world and the rest of your family for this unfair transgression committed against him. Finally, he planned to use you as a pawn to expand his power, forging an alliance in marriage with an ally that has always served as a thorn in the side to the chagrin of 141. 

Enemy of my enemy…

You partly blame them for your sorry state, half-heartedly wishing that they would’ve entertained your mercurial father for just a little longer so you could elope with your friends and leave the country, never to return. However, the thought of that madman having the power to influence all of England always left a bad taste in your mouth. 

The men in front of you are the most powerful men in all of England. Possibly one of the most powerful men in the continent of Europe even. The four men are dressed to the nines, a stark contrast to the filthy warehouse you’re stuck in, and you cannot help but look up at them with aching eyes, staring at them in awe and reverence. 

The man with the skull mask draws your attention first, leaning against a table you missed to take note of earlier. He’s dressed in all black - a black coat over a white shirt that hugs his wide shoulders tightly, and you cannot miss the brown holster against his hip, his hands in the pockets of his black pants. You cannot deny that you’re intrigued about him and all that he hides behind that mask of his.  His eyes, looking like two brown dots from where you sit, size you up  - highly alert and ready to swiftly get rid of you, if it comes down to it. 

Your eyes shift a little to the right and you find yourself staring at a majestic man. He’s dressed in a three-piece, along with a well-groomed beard, and his dark hair is combed back, not a strand out of place. He’s old enough to be your daddy, but by God, he looks like someone who could ruin you. The men behind you bow down in reverence and you can only assume that he’s the ringleader of this circus show - a dangerous circus show where you’re most likely to lose your life. 

The man standing to his right seems to look closer to your age - dark, tall, slim with a pretty face and full lips. His curly hair seems to have a mind of its own, letting a coil or two loose on his face, which he quickly tucks behind his ears swiftly. What draws you in the most are his eyes - dark and mischievous, carrying a brightness in them that you can only recall in childhood photos and you almost feel envious as your own has dulled down over the years. 

And the man beside you speaks, “You alright?” and your concentration shifts to him. Your eyes widen a bit, surprised to not notice him before - with his accent and mohawk and kind eyes that crinkle a bit when he looks at you, his visage directly blessed by a Hellenistic deity whose name you have long forgotten. 

You drop your gaze to look at your lap, embarrassment creeping up on you like invasive ivies - you probably look out of place, with your white dress and the way you gaped at them probably gave them something to laugh about after they’re done getting rid of your body today. You do not reply just yet, your hammering heart making it hard to focus on them and the barrage of questions. 

You have been ill-prepared. 

You ran away on a whim, with nothing but the bare necessities packed up. You had not expected to make it this far, straight in the heart of  your mortal enemies’ lair. You had focused so much on leaving without a trace, that you had forgotten to cook up a half-baked story that could satiate the natural curiosity of the 141. 

They have been something out of a fairytale for you, a fable used to scare people into subservience. And yet, these godly men stand before you, grace your unworthy eyes to admire their visage until you’re ultimately slaughtered like a lamb for wandering too deep into their territory. 

You wait and in turn make the men around you wait for an answer - something, anything really; and with each second passing by, you cannot help but give into the panic that’s taking control of your frail body.  Your lungs burn, and no matter how deeply you breathe, you just cannot seem to soothe the ache within you. 

Maybe I’m having a heart attack, you think earnestly. If I die right this instant, I will not have to deal with my family. Or my betrothed. Or with 141. 

However, fate has often been cruel to you. 

The man with the mohawk notices your shortened breath, instantly alarmed at your worsening state. 

“Oi, Ghost. Pass me the bottle”, he asks, and through bleary eyes you notice him catch a flying plastic bottle in his hands. With gentle fingers, he grabs your chin and tilts your head up until your eyes meet his. His fingers rub gentle circles into your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. He gently urges you, “Open ya mouth for me, hen. Drink up”.

Suddenly parched and unable to handle the multiple eyes on you, you silently comply as you tilt your head back and open your mouth. He gently presses the bottle to your lips, allowing you to take slow, sure sips from it. Some of it trickles down, wetting the neck of your dress but you can hardly care as you gently lean back as his fingers slowly play with your hair, sending pleasant tingles down your spine - almost enough to make you whimper in relief. 

After a while, when he deems it enough, he retracts the bottle from you and caps it, putting it down near the foot of the chair. You compose yourself, silently berating yourself for letting these men see you at such a low point - so weak and vulnerable. 

But no more of that. 

The small reprieve offered by the man standing nearby gave you enough time to compose yourself - enough time to cook up a story that will save you from showing all your cards on the table. You can only hope that by the time you’re finished with this ordeal and have gathered enough resources, you can finally make your getaway far away from here. 

God knows you’d kill for a vacation right about now. 

Your eyes meet his again, and he smiles down on you kindly, deciding this is a good time as any to finally introduce himself to you. 

“I’m Soap. Lassie, dae ye hev any idea aboot where ye’re?”

Weird name, but you nod your head nonetheless. You don’t know where exactly you have landed up, but you do know that you’re in their territory, with no allies to support you or protect you. 

The very thought of it terrifies you. 

“So, ye dae ken who 141 is?”, he asks again, and you nod your head in confirmation as you finally recognize his accent as somewhere from up north in Scotland. 

“Why are you here then?” a deep voice with a Manchester accent asks you, and your eyes flutter across the room until they land on the masked man again. The distance along with his mask makes it near impossible to gauge what he’s thinking, how he’s looking at you - but you can wager a solid guess. 

He’s probably looking at you with distrust, like you’re a skittering deer caught in headlights - about to run off to god knows where if given the chance. He’s thinking about how shady you are, how you need to be vetted before they even entertain you and your potential sob story or how he itches to shoot you in the head with the gun he has kept in his holster. 

Frankly enough, you don’t give two fucks about his thoughts. 

“You’re 141, and I have valuable information. Information that can help you gain access to parts of England you constantly fight over with other gangs”, you speak up, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear you. You are surprised that your voice doesn’t crack, your eyes don’t shy away from the heated look the skeleton-wearing man throws your way. 

The leader straightens up, asking you what you have been dying to hear ever since you stepped foot in London. 

Finally.  

“And what do you want from us for that?”

“Protection.”

It isn’t long till you are untied from the chair by Soap, finally rubbing your raw hands - cringing at how your wrists ache and your feet are no better, but you leave them be. You thank him for untying you, finally ‘free’ to walk on your own as you are escorted by him and by his masked companion to a black Mercedes-Benz 200. Soap is kind enough to open the door for you, letting you sit at the back of the car. He closes the door and goes around the vehicle, finally taking his seat as the driver. You look out the window, wondering where the other man would sit - beside Soap or beside you. 

Your query is answered when you hear the car door opposite to you slam shut, watching him warily as the hulk of a man climbs inside and adjusts himself, sitting carefully to not bump his head onto the roof of the Benz. The car hums to life as Soap finally inserts the key into the ignition, dabbling with the manual shaft and finally driving - enroute to a new, unknown destination. 

The skull-face (a nickname your brain supplied you with) looks at you pointedly, and you finally look back at him after what felt like a millennia of him burning holes into your skull. 

“What?” you snide, clearly with no energy or tact to be bashful around the man who is totally capable of breaking your bones with his bare hand. 

He nods, and it draws your attention to the little blindfold he’s held in his hands. 

You groan out, not ready to return to the shadows just yet. 

“Not again”, you almost whine out, turning around so your back faces him and you wait for his deft hands to cover your world with darkness again. 

“Gotta have to, love”, you hear Soap say as his steady hands steer the wheel around and work the manual shift to change gears, “Protocol says so. It’s just for newcomers, ain’t it, Ghost?”. 

The man behind you grumbles but refuses to grace his partner with a response. 

So he’s called Ghost. 

You grumble slightly before crossing your arms like a petulant child, but not before making a sarcastic quip. 

“If you’re going to get kinky with that blindfold on me, at least take me out to dinner first”. 

You let out a sigh as you feel the dark piece of cloth tighten around your eyes, and you can hear Soap guffaw out loud. 

“That’s a good one, lassie!”, he laughs, and you feel the car turn slightly as he drives on the road, feeling a few bumps along the way. 

Ghost scoffs a little at your little snide - it’s lighthearted and breathy, and it seems like you may have just won the lottery by winning his approval. 

It’s small but it’s a start. 

“And if you’re worried about dinner”, Ghost speaks, and you jump slightly at the sudden sound he makes.  

“If you survive the night, you might be able to get some after all”. 

After what seems like a drive of thirty minutes, the car finally comes to a stop and you’re glad for that. 

The silence had been comfortable, it gave you time to think and process all that has happened so far.  But you’re also eager to get the blindfold off your face and finally see where these men have ‘escorted’ you to. 

Feeling your anxiety, Ghost graciously takes off the piece of cloth over your eyes, and you blink dumbly, trying to get your bearings about you. He gets out of the car, before walking around it and opening your door for you. 

What a gentleman. 

You climb out of the vehicle, finally looking at what was in front of you. 

Despite being a mafia heiress and witnessing luxury of all levels, you look at the mansion in front of you with a reverence unmatched - unable to believe that this is where one of 141 possibly lives here, or operates from. 

The grandeur of this place is indescribable. The mansion is Victorian, and is surrounded by acres of grassland, laid with concrete routes that you’re currently walking on. There is a fountain across the main door of the mansion, and in the center of the water pool stands Aphrodite, her marble figure adding a touch of classicism to it. She looks serene, despite her residence being among the tumultuous water of a fountain. There are roses growing around the marble piece, surrounding the deity with color - almost as if these flowers have been planted as an offering to her. 

It is a lovely sight. You wish you could look at her forever. 

And yet you move onwards, leaving behind the goddess of love behind you, sneaking a final glance at her as the wooden door closes behind you. 

There’s an ache that settles in the middle of your chest as you follow the two men inside, mourning your past and yet awaiting the future ahead of you. 

The study room is majestic. 

Walls are covered with shelves filled with thick books. You can recognize some of the classics kept there, mainly Russian literature that talked of death and human suffering. There is a red loveseat to your left, with a small coffee table with a glass top. And to your right, you can find a small cabinet, locked and untouched, as it collects dust in the large room. 

You see the leader of 141, Jonathan M. Price, sitting in his leather chair, reading a file laid out on the oak table. He looks like he belongs here - regal and untouchable. And you almost feel out of place in your dirtied dress, and you’re certain that the sack over your head has messed up your hair now. 

The fact that he looks attractive as fuck, sitting and reading with his sleeves up to his elbows, exposing his strong arms,  does not help you. At all. 

You wait until he finally looks up and notices you standing between his men. He gives them a look, and they both leave you. You feel Soap gently pat your shoulder as he closes the door behind him, following his companion out. 

“So, why should I not throw you out for the police to find you?”

That’s the first thing he says to you, his eyes scrutinizing you as he gets up from his seat, walking until he’s at most half a dozen steps away from you. One of his hands picked up the glass of scotch on the table, sipping it with narrowed eyes. 

You gulp a little at the unspoken threat - at the hidden promise of delivering your body in pieces at the threshold of your childhood home, at the implication that if the next words that come out of your mouth doesn’t satisfy him, you won’t walk out of this room alive. 

“I know how to help you. I promise. The information I have is valuable”, you speak, feeling your chest swell with pride when you don’t stutter your words, when you don’t cower in fear in front of the dangerous mafia leader, when you don’t get on your knees and beg him to spare you. 

“And the price is what, protection? Do you think I’m daft?” he raises his voice, and now you cannot help but flinch a little. 

“Take a gamble, sir. It won’t hurt to try someone new for change”, you bargain with him, hoping that he’ll take the bait. You’d both win if he did. 

There’s silence in the air, and you take this as permission to present your case before your metaphorical judge, hoping to persuade him from not condemning you to death and striking his gavel down. 

“Just once. Give me a chance this one time. I won’t let you down, sir”, you almost beg, and you see his eyes waver - just a little bit, and that is enough for you to keep going. 

“I’ll tell you something that’ll help you out, and if I’m right, you give me a fair chance. Keep me here, safe and protected. And if I fool you….”, you feel your stomach drop as you finish:

“You are allowed to do whatever you wish with me”.

You wait now. 

He doesn’t speak for a few moments, and your agitation doesn’t help your restlessness. Your leg bounces in its place as you look at Mr. Price, unsure of what is going on inside that dangerous, beautiful brain of his. And when you finally open your mouth to say something, anything really - he beats you to it. 

“What’s your name, girl?”

Your brain struggles with the sudden interest in what you’re called, and you wait a beat too long to answer him with an alias(“Marie”, you call yourself and all Price does is look at you like he doesn’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth). That makes you look suspicious. Fuck. 

But you have been suspicious all up to now, you might as well keep up for now. 

Moreover, they’d get off your back when you prove yourself right. 

Or you’d buy yourself just enough time to run away again. 

You’ve been getting better at that now. 

After you tell him all that you can, making sure to keep the more sensitive information under wraps for now - for everyone’s sake really, you look at him as Price nods, gently rubbing his forehead and now he looks almost forlorn, the stress of running an illegal empire taking a toll on his body and soul. He looks older now, frailer somehow - and in this moment, you almost feel sorry for him. 

“Fine, I’ll entertain you for now”, he breathes out, and you almost find yourself crying from joy. 

You almost contemplate getting on your knees and bowing down to him to show your gratitude, but you do no such thing. Instead, you offer him a small smile and you don’t fail to notice how he drinks it all up like heady ambrosia. 

But his next words force you to stay on your guard:

“But if you do anything suspicious, make sure I don’t notice. ‘Cuz I’m not as forgiving as I look”. 

Price quickly dismisses you, now tired and in no mood to entertain his new guest, as he calls upon one of the men from the warehouse to show you ‘your room’. 

Kyle(That’s the name of the young, pretty man) silently escorts you to a room on the third floor of the house, and despite following your escort with sharp eyes as you take a note of everything that interests you or stands out, you still find it hard to memorize the layout of this place. 

He stands before a teak wood bifold door, and he opens the door for you to walk inside. Before he leaves you to your devices, he kindly informs you, “Dinner will be at 8. It won’t be hard to find the dining hall”. 

And then he’s gone. 

He has been apprehensive about your provisional arrangements; you had seen the look he sent to his leader when Price asked him to show you the room you’d be staying in. 

You know he doesn’t like it any more than you do, but you’re touched at the hospitality he’s extending towards you - a temporary white flag for the unstable truce you have established between yourself and 141. 

You take in the room with a white bed and white sheets, with sparse decoration and a cleanliness you can never find in someone’s room. 

So this is a guest room. 

You find your bag to be there, and you wonder if Price or Kyle asked someone to leave your belongings here. The bag looks untouched for the most part, and the tightness in your chest lightens a bit at that. 

You think about taking a bath and changing into the spare clothes you packed in the duffel bag in a hurry. You think about going out and exploring the place, thinking of all the secrets you can soak up into your being. 

But you’re so tired. 

The clock hanging on the wall tells you it’s a little past 6, and you have some time before dinner will be served. You think of your bruised body, and your sore wrists and the headache that’s blooming across your temples, about how hard it is to keep your eyes open and look around you. 

You look at the soft bed, and think how it won’t be too bad to rest for just a little. 

In the bed, under the soft covers, you think of everyone you left behind. Your power-hungry father, who is probably going off the walls, swearing to kill you with his own hands when he sees you next. Your ignorant little brother, who’s been sent to America to study business at Harvard. Your betrothed who has quite possibly become the butt of the joke overnight. 

You are scared of how he’s feeling, about what he must be planning for you, should you ever make the mistake of returning back to him. 

(You’d rather the 141 kill you and dump your body under the bridge, brutalized and scarred beyond recognition.)

And your poor mother, who will now deal with the repercussions of your actions. 

For her, you cry. 

fin.

NOTE -

*Reader doesn't use her real name, she uses an alias but it will be temporary and rare. (probably)

Also it was tougher for me to describe the places and furniture more than writing the overall plot, etc.

And I'm posting this late at night, so any errors are the responsibility of future Cel.

#call of duty #cod #cod:mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #john price #john price x reader #john price x you #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #gaz x you #mafia au #cod angst #cod au #char.simon ghost riley #char.soap #char.price #char.gaz #house of the rising sun au

[crazyunsexycool]

My little love

Chapter 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader

Warning: mentions of death, implied child abuse, slow burns, idiots in love- if i forgot something please let me know. 

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: AAAHHHHH!!!!! so here is chapter one to this new series. It really wasn’t my intention to start this series yet but when inspiration hits you just gotta go with it. Permanent and series tag list open

Series Masterlist

The hydra detention center had been the biggest the Avengers had come across. The area you were in was a prison block. There were three floors of cells and it was currently crawling with Shield agents. It was clear from the moment the team entered that the place was used to keep their ‘experiments’. It was too easy to identify prisoners from hydra scum. Anyone would be sick to their stomach just seeing the filth all of the detainees were being kept in. Most of them seemed to have been used and abused beyond reason. 

The crackling sound of your earpiece gave way to the voices of your team and friends. They each checked in as they cleared the area they had been assigned. Although you were enhanced and trained for combat, your main job was to be the team’s on site medic. So many times during missions you would be the one running from one place to another. Currently you were standing in a cell checking in on someone.

“They’re gone.” You say to Steve as you hear him approach the cell door. 

“Let’s keep moving.” 

You give a curt nod as you stand and start to walk out of the cell but Steve puts his hand up.

“If this gets to be too much for you, let me know.” 

“I will Cap. Come on, we have a lot more cells to check.” 

Steve moves his hand to his right ear and presses down on the earpiece. “Any updates?” 

A chorus of all clears rings through but one voice is missing. You look up at Steve worriedly before the last person checks in. 

“I found another lab in the basement. I really need a medic down here.” 

“Y/L/N is headed your way Buck.” Steve says as he watches you jog toward the elevators. 

The elevator doors slide open and you’re greeted by Bucky. The hallway is dimly lit but you can still see his panicked expression. He grabs your hand and pulls you down the hallway.

“I wasn’t sure what to do, I thought it would be better for you to take a look.” He says as you follow him into a viewing room. The huge windows are facing an operating room. In the center there’s a heart monitor that’s beeping steadily and all sorts of abandoned equipment. It seems that when the team stormed the facility they were in the middle of an experiment. But it wasn’t the place that gave you chills, it was the test subject. 

“Is that what I think it is?” 

“Most likely. That seems to be the only entrance.” Bucky points at a door at the other end of the room and you run towards it. 

Bucky is right behind you. It feels like it takes ages for the first door to close and the second to open. Once it does you rush to the operating table and have your worst fears confirmed. 

Unconscious on the table is a child. They look no older than two year old but considering how malnourished they look they could be older. You run over a few quick checks to make sure you’re able to move the baby. 

“It’s a girl.” You say softly after lifting the sheet that covered the lower half of her body to check for other injuries.

Bucky stands by feeling angry and helpless. It was one thing to use and torture adults but what had this innocent life done to deserve such treatment. It took you calling his name a few times before he snapped out of it. You ask him to relay information for what you’ll need once you’re on the jet and begin to remove everything that had been attached to the child. 

As carefully as you could, you wrap up the little girl in the sheet that had been covering her and then you take her in your arms. You look at Bucky and nod to let him know you’re ready. He leads the way back out to the viewing room and then to the hallway, his gun up and ready to fire if needed. Once you’re in the elevator you take a moment to look down at the child in your arms to make sure she’s still breathing.

“What could they want with her? She’s a baby.” Bucky asks, his back to you.

“Knowing hydra, a lot of things. I just hope we weren’t too late.” 

“She’s in great hands I’m sure she’ll be fine.” 

You can’t help the small smile that appears on your lips. The elevator doors open and Steve heads over to you. He opens his mouth to say something but the words are lost on the tip of his tongue when he sees the little bundle that you’re holding. You don’t wait for him to say anything, instead you rush past him and toward the main entrance where you see Bruce with the supplies you needed. The others kept their eyes on you as you rushed by, unaware of what’s happening.

“What’s going on Barnes?” Nat asked as she and some of the others approached the pair of super soldiers. 

“Hydra was experimenting on a child, a little girl. Hopefully Y/N and Bruce can save her.” 

You and Bruce rushed off of the jet and onto the medical area of the helicarrier. It was a fight against time to be able to stabilize your small patient. In a comfortable silence you both work alongside each other, only speaking when necessary.

There’s a small whimper that comes from the child and it stops you in your tracks. You look up at Bruce and he also stopped what he was doing.

“That’s good. She’s responsive, we still have a chance to save her, right?”

“Absolutely.” He responds with a hopeful smile. 

For the next few hours you work together until you're able to keep her stable. Once you’re done you head out of the small room to find the rest of the team waiting. Bucky and Steve walk towards you first. 

“How is she doing?”

“Bruce and I are confident that she’s going to pull through. She’s a fighter.” 

“Told you she was in good hands.” Bucky says proudly, making you smile.

Steve stands beside you both and rolls his eyes, amused at how oblivious you both were. He clears his throat to get your attention.

“Do we know what they were testing on her?”

You shake your head. “No, we were stabilizing her. Once we are able to push some fluids and she’s able to stay stable for a longer period of time we’ll start doing an in-depth physical. Bruce is doing some x-rays and we’ll go from there.” 

“Ok good, Tony is looking through the files to see what we find on her. Keep us updated.” 

“Sure thing.” You watch as Steve informs the others before they disappear into other parts of the helicarrier. 

“Do you need me to get you anything?” 

Your eyes moved from the hallway back to Bucky. He looked tired but as handsome as ever as he stood there waiting for an answer. 

“Yeah, if it’s not too much trouble could you get my go bag. I want to change out of this.” You motioned towards your uniform. “I wouldn’t want to scare her if she wakes up.”

“You got it. I’ll be right back.” 

You returned back to the room where Bruce was busy reviewing something on the computer. When he heard your footsteps he turned. 

“Come take a look at this.” 

You come to stand beside him as he pulls up the scans he’d done while you were talking with the others. Bruce begins to point out multiple healed fractures on her arms, legs and ribs. As you both tried to figure out how old the fractures were there was a knock on the door. Bucky popped his head in and opened the door more once you waved him in. 

“Here you go.” He hands you your bag and you excuse yourself to go change. Bucky takes a moment to look around the space before his eyes stop on the girl. “Do you know if she has a name?” 

“Not yet, Tony’s looking through the files though. I’m going to meet up with him now. Can you let Y/N know?” 

Bucky nods and Bruce excuses himself. He gets slightly closer to the stretcher, taking in the tiny body wrapped up in clean sheets. They had shaved her head, it was evident by the tiny scars on her scalp from where they used a razor. She was incredibly pale and malnourished. If he wanted to, Bucky could count her ribs. 

He takes his gloves off and grabs one of her hands in his right one. Bucky smiled slightly at the huge difference in size. Although she wasn’t awake her little fingers wrapped around one of his. He was so focused on her that he didn’t hear you walk back in. You observed the scene before you with a small smile. 

“Where’s Bruce?”  You asked quietly.

“He went to meet up with Tony.” 

You hum in acknowledgement as you grab the chair Bruce had been using and move it towards the stretcher, sitting down in the process. There were no words exchanged for a few minutes, just the two of you watching over the little girl. 

“What’s going to happen to her?” 

“I’m not sure. I’m going to talk with Fury and ask to keep her under my care until we’re at least able to determine what hydra was planning. After that I’m not sure.” 

“Well if he objects I’m sure the team will back you up, myself included.” 

“Good.” You smiled and you were about to say something else when Jarvis announced that you were a few minutes away from Shield’s headquarters. So you get up and start preparing some of the equipment and your little patient for transport. 

When it was time to move Bruce and Steve appeared at the entrance of the room. Both men along with Bucky escorted you out and into a jet so that you could fly directly to the compound while the others handled the other people they had taken into custody. 

It was turning into a long night. Once you’d set foot into the compound you were relieved to find that some of the nurses had been appointed to help you with your patient, Angel, as they had nicknamed her. One of them even had previous experience in working with kids. You weren’t surprised when you walked into the medbay room that had been assigned to her and found a crib along with the medical equipment needed for someone so small and other necessities such as diapers and clothes. 

The nurses had insisted you go get some rest but you weren’t ready to leave Angel alone just yet. You took some time to clean her up and get her dressed. Jenna, one of the nurses, stepped in and helped with the diaper. After that you did finally go to your living quarters, took a shower, changed into some pajamas and finally took a nap.

About two hours later you wake up to the smell of food and you make your way out to your kitchen to find Bucky at the stove. He turns his head to look over his shoulder and smiles. 

“I went by the medical wing and Jenna said you came to rest. Thought I’d make you some food.” 

“Thanks,” you say as you sit on one of the barstools that line the kitchen island. There were two plates and coffee cups. “What is the chef preparing this evening?”

Bucky turns with the pan in one hand and a spatula in the other. “French toast. I know it’s your favorite. And some coffee because I’m pretty sure you’re going back down to see Angel.” He says as he places a few pieces on your plate and then a few on his. Then he moves to fill your coffee cup and sets some sugar and creamer. Finally he sits down next to you.

“Thank you.”

“You are very welcome.”

“Are the others back yet?”

He shakes his head. “Nat called to check in, said they were still dealing with all the detainees and Stark was in a meeting with Fury. Steve headed back there to join them.”

“Is it about the baby?” 

“Yeah, but Steve said not to worry about it. He isn’t going to allow her to leave anytime soon.” 

Hum as you flick your wrist, your fork and knife begin to work on cutting up your French toast while you add cream and sugar to your coffee. Bucky shakes his head while he chuckles. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“Your little party trick.” 

“You’re just mad you can’t do it.” You say before taking a sip of your hot drink. Bucky hides his smirk behind his own coffee cup. 

You both sit in silence as you start to eat. It’s easy for both of you, not needing to fill every single minute with conversation. Once in a while you look at Bucky out of the corner of your eye. It still amazes you that he felt so comfortable with you, how much he had changed from the first time he came to the compound. How at ease he was around you. Even after all he’d been through he had shown you that he could trust you and you trusted him too. It’s why you didn’t mind when he just came into your apartment and vice versa. There was nothing hidden between the two of you. 

You stood and grabbed your now empty mug and plate, taking them to the sink.

“I’ll wash the dishes if you want to go down and check on her.”  

“But you already made food.” 

Bucky waved you off before walking towards the sink with his own dirty dishes. “I know you want to check on her, go. Really.” 

You reached up and kissed his cheek before thanking him. He stood there with a pleased smile as he watched you go. 

There wasn’t much for you to really do down in the medical wing. But you went anyway. Normally when you helped someone on the field, you would help get them on the jet and once you arrived at the compound you’d tell the medical team what happened and what you did so they knew what they were dealing with. Now you have a feeling that you’ll be spending a lot of time here, or at least as long as it takes for the sweet Angel to recover. The nurses had informed you that there was no change in her condition and she was still unconscious which was starting to worry you. But still you dragged a chair and sat by her crib. There wasn’t much to do but you wanted to keep an eye on her. You grabbed your phone and searched for fairytale stories, once you found one you liked you began to read to her. 

Every once in a while there would be a small whine or whimper coming from the crib. In those instances you’d stop reading and stand up to get a better look at her. You’d grab her hand gently and tell her that it was ok that she was safe. 

“And they all lived happily ever after. The end.” You finished softly and you looked up to the crib. A small gasp leaves your lips as you realize that not only is your patient awake but she’s looking right at you.  

You get up slowly and you move to stand by the crib. She follows every move you make. The closer you get though her bottom lip begins to wobble and her eyes close. 

“It’s ok sweet girl, I’m not going to hurt you.” You coo softly as you try to grab her hand. She flinches at your touch as she begins to cry. Without many options you carefully pick her up and bring her to your chest, letting her head rest over your heart. You do what you’ve seen your mom do with your younger siblings which is to sway slowly and hum a lullaby. 

Once the crying dies down you turn your head to look at the baby in your arms and find her looking up at you. Stunning bright blue eyes. Eyes that you’ve looked into before. You move to the other side of the room and open a few drawers until you find a sealed off q-tip. 

“Ok sweet Angel, I’m going to get a sample from you just to check something ok?” You said as you sat her on the counter. She wobbled a little before settling down, blinking slowly as she looked up at you. You rip open the package and take a sample of her saliva. When one of the nurses comes by to check in on both of you, you hand her over and head towards the lab. 

With some help from Friday you manage to run the sample and compare it to everyone in the Avenger’s database. You sit back as the monitor mocks you by displaying the result you were almost sure you’d see.

Hydra’s newest test subject was Bucky Barnes’ daughter.

Ch. 2

Permanent taglist:

@kunaikunari @rebekahdawkins @cjand10 @nalny5 @oliviafc15 @sturchling @angywritesstuff @seitmai @writing-for-marvel @goldylions @darkhairedmenrule @little--baby--bear @almosttoopizza @littleseasiren @teambarnes72

#my little love series #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #dad!bucky barnes x reader #enhanced reader #bucky barnes x enchanced!reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #dad!bucky barnes

[trulybetty]

Sunday | Week In Review II

Sunday Week in Review II.

How we all doing?? Did we make it through the week? (I wrote this placeholder start on Monday, future B, I hope you made it through unscathed)

Narrator: In fact, she barely made it through the week unscathed. It was a weird limbo state of a week that she couldn’t quite understand was so quick but so fucking long at the same time…

So as a result, I really didn’t read much this week - you should see my tabs that I have open for my TBR list this week and I have a lot of mentions/reblogs I will be responding to the next couple of days.

Anyway, on with the week in review…

Truly Betty Updates This Week…

Strings Part III (I feel like I hit publish on this six weeks ago, this is how long this week has felt)

Dipped by foot in the Catfish pond this week also...

Stood Up

Flings

Fics I Enjoyed This Week…

Six Sentence Sunday by @gnpwdrnwhiskey I love Sunny & Whiskey any day of the week, but throw in tiny long-eared adorable puppies? *dead*

Delta Landscaping | Chapter 1: Welcome to Torrey Hills by @rhoorl They're here... What an opening chapter! This one introduces us to the Delta boys and where they are post-Colombia and sets up for what I know is going to be a fantastic ride! I also heard that the residents of Mulefall Court (snort) have come to play today...

Working Title by @rhoorl Also started this fic this week by Jess too, only one chapter in but I'm very curious how this is all going to play out. Dieter Bravo and a slow burn? Has my name all over it!

The Layover | Chapter 10by @goodwithcheese I'm ignoring the fact that we're in the home stretch of this story - but it's one that just keeps on giving and this week's update was no different! Also, are you team Jules x Benny or team Jules x Santiago?

Sage by @softlyspector This is part three of the Honeyed series, and I don't know how to sum up in a couple of lines how much this series has touched me. Joel AU where he's a tattoo artist might sound on the surface a little ways out there, but trust me - the characterization stays true and the slow burn here is something else. I've yet to reblog it with my comments as I'm still taking it all in - trust me, there's not been a day this week I've not thought of this series.

First and 10 by @something-tofightfor This was actually a re-read and I was surprised to find I hadn't shared it already. We've had @ladamedusoif with SNL's Mr. Ben, now I introduce you to @something-tofightfor's SNL Wing Pit Daniel. He has lived rent-free in my head since I read it and this one shot, I've lost count of how many times I've gone back to read it.

Things I’m Looking Forward to Starting…

No list this week as I can't keep a lid on my TBR list as it exploded this week with my weird head space - which means a lot hopefully a long list of fanfics read next week! 💕✨

Posts I Enjoyed This Week…

@jomiddlemarch’s TLOU x Ted Lasso master list put together by @tessa-quayle When I first read TLOU crossover with Ted Lasso a couple months back I was a little dubious about how the two would work. But I’m telling you - it works. I also adore the relationship between Joel and Grace, so much so that reading their back and forth it’s easy to forget she’s an OC. Everything @jomiddlemarch does with her OC is what I strive to achieve with my own - a flawless submission into an established world.

Dave York Hip Bounce Honestly? Do I really need to explain this one? 

Things I’ve Enjoyed This Week…

@gnpwdrnwhiskey informing me that there is A HIPPO EMOJI!!! 🦛 <— look at it! 

Finding out You can “rewind” gifs (I refer you back to the Dave York hip bounce post)

Justified (TV Show) - even though I'm not entirely sure what is going on at any given time (I watch while I work), I'm now on season two and Raylan is still shooting an alarming amount of people and I'm shocked by the lack of presence of internal affairs. Also, resisting the urge to talk with a Southern accent, much like the week I spent singing everything I spoke in a cockney accent after watching Sweeny Todd…

This Week’s Song…

This song has eaten up and spat me out since I heard it a couple weeks ago. I’ve not gone a day without playing it on repeat and each time my little brain is blown like it’s the first time.

Hope everyone has a great Sunday and here's to a better week!

Feel free to share your weeks in review, detailed or not, and tag me in it if you do! 💕 xx

Other week in reviews I think you should check out...

@rhoorl's week in review

#betty's sunday in review #still haven't thought of a better name #so this is it #Spotify

[its-jaytothemee]

Until I Met You - Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Path Forward

Pairings: Halsin x Tav

Word count: 3,627

Rating: Currently M, will be Explicit in later chapters.

Read on AO3

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Summary: The party makes their way back into the Underdark, discouraged and down on their luck after their time at the Creche. Now, they have to decide how they can move forward and find a new lead to cure their tadpoles. Part 8 of the slow burn fic. Halsin and Tav POVs

Tags: Slow burn, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual love confessions, eventual smut, light angst, implied past rape/non-con and abuse, graphic description of injuries.

A/N: Sorry for the wait between updates here! Life got a bit hectic for a couple of weeks. I ended up needing to split the Underdark chapters up so they wouldn't get too long. The next one should be a much shorter wait :) Thanks for continuing to read!!

Tav led her dejected group of adventurers back through the wilderness, making their way down to the Underdark again. While she was still unconscious, the others had found another entrance to the Underdark in the Zhentarim hideout. Given that it was a little closer, they opted to go this way rather than march all the way back to the goblin camp.

Last night, just as everyone was beginning to turn in for the evening, an unexpected visitor had shown up at their camp. Kith’rak Voss, knight supreme, and a fellow traitor in Vlaakith’s eyes. He came to recruit Lae’zel to his cause, to overthrow Vlaakith’s unrightful rule. Apparently, the prism they carried held the key to her demise. He explained that the purification process githyanki boasted about was nothing but a bold-faced lie. The zaith’isk does not extract, it only kills. They had promised to meet him in Baldur’s Gate, should they survive that long. Lae’zel had been strangely quiet about the ordeal, likely still coming to terms with the fact she wasn’t welcome with the majority of her kin. So now, not only were they still hosting mind flayer parasites, but they had been branded enemies of Vlaakith herself, doomed to be hunted across the Sword Coast by her faithful. Fighting their way out of the Creche was difficult enough, she wasn’t looking forward to the lich queen sending her best warriors to pursue them.

Tav’s disappointment was plain to see in her slumped shoulders and shuffling footsteps. The past two days were a detour they could scarcely afford, and she was the one who pushed them in that direction. Even Karlach seemed subdued, merely chuckling at any half-assed quips Astarion let out rather than her normal cackle. He was the only one who was relatively content with keeping his tadpole, allowing him to walk in the sun a little while longer.

Halsin jogged his way up to her at the front of the group. He slowed his pace to walk alongside her.

“I can’t help but notice you’re looking a tad displeased.” He said.

“I think I’ve earned the right to feel a little upset right now, Halsin.” Tav knew he meant well, she just didn’t have the energy to joke right now.

“Of course, I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise.” His voice lowered a bit, sending a stab of guilt into Tav’s gut. She let out a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to do next. They followed me to the Creche, which was a dead end. Almost literally.” She remembered their bruised and battered bodies stumbling into camp last night. Her shoulder still ached slightly from falling off of a ladder during one of the fights.

“I know. I can see the uncertainty in your eyes. You think you’ve wasted precious time following false hopes. I can’t imagine my sulking helped with that guilt.” He looked away from her for a moment.

“First and foremost, your priority has been to remove the tadpoles lodged in your heads. You had no way of knowing where Lae’zel’s hunch would lead, at the time it seemed like the most rational path. And you are not the only one here who chose that path.”

“That’s kind of you to say.” Tav responded, her eyes still stuck on the dirt road in front of her.

“I know something of doubting your choices as a leader, my friend. As I told you, I’m here to lend my counsel whenever needed. I’ve met many people who have claimed to be leaders in my life, few have had the heart and compassion that you do. It’s obvious how you care for those in your company, you make decisions with great respect and consideration.” He kept his voice low so only they could hear.

She stayed silent for a while longer, thinking on his words. When their group had decided to band together, she hadn’t exactly meant to be their leader. At some point everyone just started to defer to her for all major decisions.

“I know that this is quite the setback, but please do not doubt yourself so heavily, Tav. Everyone trusts you a great deal – myself included. I doubt that anyone here is a stranger to disappointment and defeat. Except perhaps Shadowheart, but that is only because she is missing so many of her memories.” His last quip did make her chuckle a little.

“I am confident that you will all recover swiftly.”

“What makes you so sure?” She asked, finally looking up at him.

“Because you have no other choice, I’m afraid.” He had a sad smile on his face. They continued walking together, Halsin had grabbed one of her packs from her injured shoulder to carry. Lunari trotted around them, every now and then bumping her head into their legs to get them to pet her.

“I truly am sorry that you weren’t able to be cured of the tadpole yet.” Halsin broke their silence. “But if it is any consolation, I am grateful to have a few more days in your company.” He briefly rested a hand on her shoulder as they walked.

“As am I.” She replied. “Except…you know…about you.” A familiar warmth covered her cheeks at her awkward rambling.

Come on, Tav. I thought we were past this now.

As they approached Waukeen’s Rest, she let some of the others take the lead. They took her and Halsin down through the hideout, the smell of ash and decaying bodies filled her nose. As she looked over the ledge just inside the secret entrance, she saw that almost everything, and everyone, had been burnt to a crisp

“What in the hells did you guys do here?” Tav asked, covering her nose with the back of her hand.

“What? Like it’s our fault that they had the entire area laced with explosives? Karlach is literally a walking flame, darling. Accidents happen.” Astarion waved his hand dismissively.

“Hey now, Karlach didn’t touch the explosives at all. Gale was the one with speedy spell fingers.” Karlach had run up to join them.

“To be fair,” Gale started, pointing one index finger up in the air, “the fire bolt wasn’t aimed at the explosives, it was aimed at one of the Zhentarim. Who caught on fire. And then wandered too close to an oil barrel.” The little bout of banter brought a smile to Tav’s face. She was relieved to see they hadn’t completely lost their sense of humor.

Towards the back of the hideout, there was a concealed elevator of sorts. It looked old, Tav was skeptical about all of them piling onto this at the same time.

“I think we should probably go in groups. This seems a little…dated.”  She gulped as she inspected the ropes and pulleys attached to the platform. Everything at least seemed in good working order.

“Who wants to go first?” She asked.

“After you, darling.” Astarion teased.

“I uh, I can wait for the second group.” Tav said quickly as she took a step away from the platform.

Everyone looked at her curiously. Astarion and Karlach started to giggle a little bit.

“Are you…are you afraid of heights?” Astarion pointed an accusing finger at her.

“I’m not afraid! I have a healthy skepticism of old wooden machinery that happens to dangle a mile above the ground.” She could feel her cheeks getting warm at the teasing.

“I’m sorry, you can slaughter a camp of goblins, a hag, an entire Creche filled with githyanki warriors, and a fully grown owlbear. But you draw the line at a little elevator ride?” Astarion was laughing harder now.

“Well, if you’re so confident why don’t you hop on?” Tav shot back.

“Fine if it’ll help you get over your fears.” He waved his hand in the air again and strode over to the platform, jumping on it lightly to show how sturdy it was.

“See? Nothing to be worried about.” He crossed his arms and stared her down.

She flared her nostrils at him and pressed her lips into a hard line. With everyone staring at her, she took a few tentative steps toward the wooden platform. Her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest. The first step she took onto the elevator caused it to wobble slightly and she recoiled away from it, slamming into Halsin behind her. He smiled down at her and stepped to the side to walk onto the platform next to Astarion. He turned around and held his arm out to her. Tav quickly dug a scroll of Feather Fall out of her pack and held it against her chest...just in case. She nervously reached out with her other hand to grab Halsin’s arm and pulled herself tight against him. Wyll walked on behind her as well and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Lunari trotted over to lay down at her feet, giving a soft whine. Tav continued clinging to Halsin as the winch began to turn and slowly lower them back into the Underdark.

***

Halsin was grateful for the lower light to hide his blush and grin. Tav was breathing heavily and grasping the Feather Fall scroll in one hand, turning her knuckles white. She had her face buried in his shoulder and both of her arms wrapped around his arm tightly. Her free hand had his in an iron grip, digging her nails into his knuckles. She must have been terrified based on the fact she didn’t seem to be blushing or embarrassed as she held onto him like her life depended on it.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t call you our ‘fearless’ leader anymore.” Astarion giggled.

“Fuck off.” Tav’s voice was muffled by Halsin’s shoulder.

Tav let out another shaky breath as the platform swayed in an unnerving manner. He watched as they slowly descended through the ground, the environment around them gradually shifting to the strange flora of the Underdark. After a long ride, he could finally start to make out the ground beneath them. The glowing crystals and mushrooms lit the area below, giving them just a little more light to see by.

“We’re almost there, Tav. I can see the ground now.” He whispered as he briefly placed his other hand on one of her arms. She nodded against him in response, still maintaining her death grip.

“You know, Tav, you really are missing a splendid view.” Astarion mocked from the other side of him. “Just open your eyes, face your fe–”

Halsin cut Astarion off with a small nudge, just enough to make him think that he could go tumbling over the edge of the elevator. Of course he wouldn’t let that happen, he had a hold of the back of his shirt. The small squeal that escaped Astarion’s throat was worth it though. Wyll was stifling a laugh on the other side of Tav.

“How clumsy of me.” Halsin said with a smirk. Astarion glared at him over his shoulder.

“Oh gods…why are we shaking?” Tav somehow managed to squeeze him even tighter, causing him to grunt in pain.

Worth it.

After a few more minutes, the elevator hit the ground below. Tav remained stuck to his side even after they stopped moving.

“Tav? We made it.” Halsin urged her gently. She slowly rotated her head to peek at their new surroundings, releasing a relieved sigh when she saw they were once again on solid ground. Right on cue, she realized she was still clinging to Halsin’s arm and jumped to the side like he had shocked her; her cheeks turned that endearing shade of pink.

“Oh! Ha, thanks.” She laughed awkwardly and looked down at his hand spotting the small nail marks she left there. “Oh shit…I’m sorry about that.”

“Nothing to worry about, you didn’t even draw blood. I’m sure the marks will fade within the hour.” He smiled at her reassuringly, trying and failing to keep his mind from wandering. He found himself imagining the marks lined up and down his body.

No, stop it. Get ahold of yourself, Halsin.

He shook his head to force himself back to his current conversation. Astarion had a smug grin stretched across his face.

“Yes, no worries, Tav. I’m sure he’s used to the feel of your nails digging into him, what with your recent late-night excursions and all.” He teased, batting his eyelashes as his eyes shifted between her and Halsin.

His breath caught in his throat and Tav’s eyes went wide, her skin now turning a shade that matched Karlach’s. Wyll looked between all three of them, obviously confused and scared to ask for clarification. The elevator behind them started the ascent back up to the Zhentarim hideout.

“No that’s…it’s not what…we haven’t even…I don’t…” Tav was sputtering nonsensically. “Argh! You are so annoying, you know that?” She yelled at him as she stormed off in a huff.

Halsin thought she’d scour the entire Underdark easily at the pace she was setting. But a strange voice called out to them, stopping her in her tracks.

***

“They are coming.” The voice calling out to Tav in her mind was gruff, yet somehow melodic and charming as well.

“Please tell me I’m not the only one hearing that voice.” She said quietly.

“No, no I heard it too.” Halsin sounded concerned.

Wait…Halsin?

“You can hear it?” Tav asked, shocked. She assumed it was something to do with the tadpole. Wyll and Astarion must have shared her theory because they whipped around to stare at him as well.

“More are coming. You are coming.” The strange voice glided out of her thoughts.

“What the fuck.” She mumbled under her breath.

“Please tell me we aren’t going to look for the source of that voice.” Astarion pleaded.

“Something tells me we won’t have much of a choice.” She sighed. “We’ll wait for the others before moving on just in case.”

Astarion dramatically threw himself onto a pile of crates.

“For fucks’ sake…” Tav muttered. “Here, you big baby.” She reached into her pack and fished out a couple of lockpicks and some tools for disarming traps.

“Why don’t you keep busy and start looking through some of these chests, huh? That one looks expensive.” She held the small tools out in her palm, trying to entice him out of his tantrum. He looked up and gave her a brooding look. “You can keep the gold you find.” She pumped her eyebrows up and down a couple of times.

“You have to ask nicely.” He pouted. She flared her nostrils at him and fought off an eye roll.

“Oh, Astarion…your hands are so slight and nimble. Your fingers dance around locks like silvery rays of the purest moonlight. None of us could compare with that level of finesse.” She said the words in the most monotone way possible, gesturing her hands lazily at the chests and boxes around them.

“And…?”

“You are such…an…” She gritted her teeth, not wanting to finish.

“Say it.” Astarion coaxed.

“Inspiration.” She growled.

“Oh, stop it, darling. You’re embarrassing yourself.” He slid over to her and snatched the tools out of her hand before running off with a giggle.

Whatever, it’s better than him sulking until the others arrive.

Tav and Wyll went through some of the unlocked crates to look for any supplies. Halsin seemed distracted as he took in the Underdark surroundings, he had a distant look on his face that worried her.

“Halsin? You okay?” She asked quietly as he blankly stared over the Underdark landscape ahead of them.

“Hm? Oh, of course. My eyes are still just adjusting to the darkness here.” He smiled lightly, but there was a nervous undertone to his voice. Before she could press the matter further, Karlach’s voice called out to her.

“Hey, soldier! You made it down in one piece. No big deal, right?” Her giant smile shone easily through the darkness.

“Outside of clawing Halsin’s arm to shreds? Yeah, no big deal.” She rolled her eyes slightly. “Listen, we have a situation.” Tav explained the voice they heard.

“More voices? My mind is full enough of those as is.” Gale complained.

“I have a feeling we need to go towards it. When it entered my mind, it felt…scared. Like it was a cry for help.”

“The last time you had a feeling, we ended up fighting dozens of githyanki warriors for our life. Besides, we can hardly afford another detour.” Astarion had come back over to join the group and draped an arm over Gale’s shoulder. He was wearing noticeably more jewelry than before, a golden chain adorned with tiny sapphires dangled from his hand.

His words caused Tav to withdraw slightly, her earlier guilt returning tenfold. She looked around the group of tired faces, suddenly feeling paralyzed. What if she made the wrong decision again, delaying them further? Her eyes fell on Halsin who gave her a reassuring nod.

“And what if the help they need is related to the Absolute?” She finally said. “What if they can help us find our way to Moonrise? We have no idea where this secret stronghold is.”

“Which is why we should have just taken the route from the Mountain Pass. We have to deal with the shadow cursed lands eventually, we might as well just get it over with.” Wyll countered. He had suggested the route before – he was anxious to find his father.

“Perhaps, but the area just past the Mountain Pass is heavy with the curse. I fear if we went that way we would not long survive before the shadows would overtake us.” Halsin spoke up.

“Halsin’s right, the shadows there are a wicked, terrible presence. Some types of light will protect us for a short time, but it won’t be enough. We’ll be lucky if we can make it to Moonrise Towers before it consumes us.” Tav shuddered at the thought.

“No…we need to find out how the cultists are able to traverse the land safely. If we can find this secret passage, we’ll likely find out how they’ve made it that far.” She insisted.

“How bad could it be? We’ve got Shadowheart to cast some handy light spells, we can scrounge up some torches, not to mention that nifty glowing mace we found. So long as we stick together, I’m sure we’ll be fine!” Karlach’s peppy tone did little to calm the anxiety gripping Tav.

“Well spoken, Karlach. I agree, we haven’t gone too far yet…” Wyll continued talking, but Tav couldn’t listen anymore.

The darkness around her swirled like smoke, choking her, trying to bring back memories of those cursed shadows. She forced them down, refusing to let them overtake her now. They didn’t understand, how could they? There was no way to explain to them the horrific magic that awaited them at Moonrise. Her vision swam, her chest burned with anxiety and dread. She felt the phantom claws of shadows and wraiths reaching for her arms, struggling to pull her into the wicked darkness around her, beckoning her to follow.

“No!” She bellowed, startling everyone as they whipped around to face her again. “I’m not spending any longer in that cursed land than I have to. None of you understand, you weren’t there!”

Involuntary tears started streaming down her face, dripping off of her chin and soaking the collar of her shirt. She wrapped her arms tightly around her body and squeezed her eyes shut to try and force her tears to stop. It didn’t help, she continued to sniffle as dark memories tried to drag her down into their abyss. Her knees buckled, and she fell to the ground, still tightly clutching her own chest.

“You weren’t there…” She whispered between sobs.

The others simply stared at her in stunned silence. She hung her head and tried to gain some semblance of composure.

“If you won’t follow me on this path, feel free to go back on your own. I’ll continue through the Underdark alone if I must. Perhaps we’ll be able to meet again at Moonrise.” She barely choked the words out. “Just don’t ask me to go back there yet. I can’t. Not until I know that I can protect us.” It hurt her to offer the ultimatum, she was really starting to consider them friends. She couldn't stand the thought of them facing the curse without her guiding them, but she couldn't go yet. She knew exactly what was waiting for them and she was terrified of going back. No, she needed more time to prepare.

Everyone exchanged uneasy glances with one another but said nothing. Tav slowly stood up and turned away from them, ready to continue on by herself. A large hand gently grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She glanced over her shoulder to see Halsin standing behind her.

“You won’t be alone, Tav.” He assured her. She turned around to face him as the others walked up to stand with them as well.

“Of course you won’t be. We’re with you, soldier.” Karlach added. “If you say this is the way, I’ll follow you.”

The rest of the party walked up behind her, all nodding and murmuring their agreement. They would stay and follow her, hopefully to find a way through the shadows.

“Lead on, friend.” Wyll patted her shoulder.

Tav nodded and took a shaky breath. She knew that their path was leading back to Moonrise Towers, it was unavoidable now. But she at least had a few more days to prepare for it. As she moved to start leading them further into the Underdark, Halsin’s hand briefly passed over hers, his fingers lingering against hers for just a moment longer than expected.

#bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 halsin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #halsin x tav #halsin fanfic #halsin silverbough #bg3 fluff #bg3 headcanons #halsin fluff

[satoru-psych]

Learning curve - Gojo Satoru x Reader (18+)

| Pairing: Gojo Satoru / Fem!Reader (afab) / F/M / Teacher! Gojo x Student! Reader.

| Tags/content: Slow burn, Teacher x Student, Age Gap, Smut, Rough sex, Oral sex, Cunnilingus, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Eventual sex, Corruption Kink, Vaginal fingering, Drinking, Mild Dub-con. Just. A lot. Of stuff. *Minors Please dni.

| Summary: Gojo takes you on as a student after the other two 3rd years get suspended. little does he know, there's an ulterior motive behind those doe eyes of yours.

*Gojo is 28, Reader is 18.

| CHAPTERS 1-4

| Next Chapter: Coming soon.

| Series Masterlist

| Word count: 15.4K

//Note: Hiiii ^_^ A few people told me I should post this on here, since it was already on my AO3, and since I just updated with the latest chap, I thought might as well post them all together since it’s not that long. I’ll be linking the next chapter once it’s up. This is actually my first ever fic so I hope you guys like, oki byeeeeee!

AO3 link.

———————————————————————————————

CHAPTER 1 (PROLOGUE): LOLLIPOP

Gojo cares for his students, he really does. He knows the cruel, heartless nature of the Jujutsu world can shatter the hearts of even the strongest, and having experienced that first hand, he vowed to never turn a blind eye again.

So he pays attention, well, as much as he can with his busy schedule, even if it means little things like remembering their favorite sweets and bringing a box, or taking them out to eat after a mission.

It brings him a sense of peace to see their smiles, a feeling in his chest akin to a blue spring.

Despite his adoration for his students, he was never the kind to favor one over the other, and since he’s started teaching he treats all his students equally. Though as much as he tried to deny it, he may or may not have a very tiny insignificant soft spot for your saccharine smiles and honey dipped voice.

Gojo was also a very busy man, missions and lessons with the 1st years taking up a majority of his time already, so he’s not entirely sure why he’s considering adding you to his list of students too. He wasn’t a teacher during your first year, but he basically treated you like one of his students anyways, albeit not as close because he wasn’t around you as much. so what harm would it be to start teaching you too right?

He stared at the email on his computer screen from Yaga, announcing that the other two 3rd years have officially been suspended and that you needed a teacher for the time-being while he sorts things out with the higher ups in regards to the suspension.

“Well, guess I can help out a little” he muttered to himself, throwing 5 cubes of sugar in his tea as he wrote back to Yaga, saying he can take you as a student effective immediately.

He sipped on it while he waited for a reply, getting one a few minutes later that reads,

“Great, meet me in my office in 30 minutes so we can discuss scheduling and paperwork.

~ Yaga”

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

“Thank you for agreeing Satoru, I know this was really short notice but Atsuya said his hands were full and Nanami has no interest in teaching”

He motioned for Gojo to sit on the sofa in his office, paperwork splayed across the small coffee table.

“But are you sure you have the time? If not I can work something else out, maybe a transfer to Kyoto-“

“Yeah, yeah, it’ll be alright, what’s more one student? Her underclassmen adore her, so I’m sure they’ll be ecstatic” Gojo interrupted, twirling his pen in his hand as he stared down at the class transfer forms. “So where do I sign?

Yaga sighed, contemplating the boards decision to even make this man a teacher in the first place, while showing him where to sign and cringing at his signature. “Are you 5 years old?”

“I’ll have you know my signature is very-“

A knock on the door cuts Gojo off, he scoffs and sinks back on the couch, signing a few more papers with a childish pout as Yaga gets up to answer the door.

“Oh, Hi Yaga-san, did you find someone to teach me yet?” Your sweet voice makes Gojo’s ears perk up slightly

“Yes, come in. Gojo-san is just finishing up the paperwork but I need you to sign a few things too”

You walk in and shoot Gojo a doe eyed smile, giving a curt wave that he returns with an unusual smile of his own. The lollipop you’ve been nursing in your mouth doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and you swear you could feel his gaze for a split second under that blindfold.

“I need you to sign these papers that Gojo-san has” Yaga gestures to the coffee table, so you walk over and take a seat, a little close to Gojo but not close enough for it to be anything noticeable. But he’s more perceptive than he lets on. Still, he decides to ignore it. All you did was sit down after all.

You pick up the pen and lean forward to start signing, your hair gently falling over your face, and Gojo shoots a quick glance at you, taking in your glossed lips and the lollipop you’ve been swirling around in your mouth.

He always thought you were pretty, nothing more. So it wasn’t like he didn’t expect you to look pretty right now either.

But what he really didn’t expect is the feeling of a slight strain on uniform trousers when he saw you swirling your lollipop around.

What the fuck?

A sheer moment of panic washed over him when he felt his length throb, so in a daze he frantically grabbed some papers, putting them on his lap to hide the tent that was forming , whilst pretending like he gave two shits about whatever was written in them.

It’s only until he hears your voice again that he is snapped out of his frenzied train of thought,

“Thank you so much for taking me on, Gojo-sensei, I really appreciate it”

you stood in front of the table, giving him a shy smile and batting your eyelashes.

He straightens up, still covering his crotch with the papers and clearing his throat in an effort to compose himself, “don’t mention it, I’ll see you tomorrow then”

“Sounds great, Gojo-sensei” you waved goodbye to him and Yaga.

the way his name rolled off your tongue left a sugary sweet taste in his mouth, and for a second he wonders if it was your effortless charm or the 5 sugar cubes he downed in his tea just a little while ago.

He felt his trousers tighten again, and began to internally panic before Yaga snapped him out of it, “Ijichi-san will work out the schedules for both of you and send it out by tonight. Do let me know if something comes up and you can’t follow through”

Gojo gulps, thankful for the interruption because it’s impossible to stay even a little bit hard when Yaga speaks. But wait, why was he even hard in the first place? Surely it wasn’t cus of…

“Satoru..?” Yaga raised an eyebrow,

“Oh uh, yeah, sure thing” he stands up quickly, handing Yaga the signed papers and heads out quickly.

heading back to office he sits down, eyeing the sugar cubes that sat in a box next to his empty tea cup, and your voice lingers in his head again…

‘shit..when did she get so cute?’

He shakes the thought out of his head, telling himself it was probably just an accident, a funny little coincidence, maybe it’s because he neglected his morning wood when he woke up, ah yes that’s the one. It’s gotta be!

So he decided to call it a day, he was obviously not in his right mind today. he makes a motion of interlocking his fingers and clasping his hands together to warp into his bedroom, sighing in relief upon entering his personal space.

“Maybe I just need a nap” he takes off his jacket and slides off his blindfold, running his fingers through his snowy hair, before settling into his ridiculously expensive bed.

“Yeah…I definitely need a nap..” he closed his eyes, trying to ignore the lingering taste of sugar on his tongue.

————————————————

CHAPTER 2: RISING STEAM

The walk to your dorm room back from Yaga's office had you questioning some things. You could’ve sworn Gojo-sensei was acting a bit…. Off, you just couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

Plopping down on your bed, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. The weather was getting warmer, but there was still a breeze in the air, so you decided to submit a request for a new summer uniform.

The school allowed everyone to rotate their uniforms and customize them as the seasons changed, and although you prefer practicality over fashion during combat, it wouldn't hurt to try and look a little cuter this summer. Your motive behind this was totally not the fact that you were Gojo's new student. you would never try to seduce your teacher or anything like that. duh.

You typed in your measurements, moving on to the design, your usual choice of a hooded-romper uniform came to mind, maybe you'd modify it to be sleeveless? maybe you'd make it a two piece suit? A different coloured collar?

As you began to visualize your options, an email notification came in, it was your updated schedule for the next 3 weeks from Ijichi, with Gojo CC'd into the email, it contained an average class and mission spread, nothing too exciting, but what caught your eye was that two of your upcoming missions were going to be supervised by Gojo. you weren't sure why but you sure as hell weren't going to protest..Impulsively filling out the rest of the tailoring form with a not-so-subtle smirk plastered on your face, you made sure to choose pickup instead of delivery so you could collect it after your mission tomorrow, and what you were going to pay towards the delivery fee can now go towards a new lipgloss…perfect.

You started on your bedtime routine and your mind wandered. This new schedule was giving you a prime opportunity to get to know Gojo-sensei better! Especially since he’ll be accompanying you on a couple of your missions. That's a nice thing to do right? find some common ground and have deep meaningful conversations with each other. Yes, that's exactly your goal here, nothing else.

Maybe you could pester your underclassmen about it when they're back from their mission, but for the time being you've put on your investigation cap and opened up a social media app while brushing your teeth.

He was ridiculously easy to find, given that all you had to do was search up his name and the user @Gojothestrongest1 came up, making you roll your eyes. there was however the obstacle of him having a private account which you definitely did not foresee.. he seemed like the kind of guy that would show off and flaunt any chance he got so this was definitely strange, and you wouldn’t be caught dead requesting to follow him online the same day he got appointed as your new teacher, that’s too weird right?

Maybe you need to sleep on it, you have an early start to your day and an evening mission tomorrow, plus you’ll be picking up your new uniform after, so you want to be well rested.

You spat out the toothpaste, observed the saliva-mixed white liquid in the sink, mind wandering back to Gojo-sensei for no particular reason, and you giggled.

Though what started as a simple everyday bedtime routine ended up manifesting into what you could only describe as some sort of self care ritual, cleanse, tone, moisturize, scrub your lips, shower and shave every inch of your body, apply body oil, this is totally your everyday routine.. Finally you slid into some comfy pajamas and headed back to bed to get some shut eye.

—-----------------------------

Birds chirping can be heard faintly through the sound of your sliding glass windows, morning dew settles on the glass and you wake up feeling like today is gonna be a good day. Though the morning is uneventful, you go about your school day like normal, classes in the morning and sparring in the afternoon, you did some hand to hand with Yuji which left you with a bruised left shoulder and hip hone, which he apologized very profusely for afterwards, even promising to buy you tickets for his wormo-man movie , but you feel okay enough to go on your mission this evening, it’s reported to be a grade 2 curse in the family section of a run-down fast food joint that likes to hide in the playground. Cute.

It’s in a dodgy part of town but your missions were always in…questionable places anyways. It’s unlikely that a curse would manifest at a nice botanical garden or an artsy modern museum, so roughing it out was something you grew accustomed to.

Car tires screech against the curb, window rolling down to show Ijichi, you wave at him and he he greets you back “good evening, the mission site isn’t too far away so let’s head there now” he smiles and unlocks the car for you to get in, so you sling your bag across your shoulder and climb inside.

“I’m sorry, I have a meeting with the principal later, I won’t be able to collect you after your mission is complete so I’ll send Nitta-san.” he semi-bows strangely while driving. Who bows while driving?

Perfect.

“Oh that’s okay, Ijichi-san, you don’t have to bother Nitta-san, I’ll figure it out by myself” you shoot him a smile through the rearview mirror.

“But i’m not allowed to leave the students alo-”

“I said don’t worry, Ijichi-san. I’ll be fine” you interrupt.

He sighs but ultimately agrees, muttering something under his breath about how he’s not paid enough for this. The rest of the car ride is silent apart from the radio news channel that Ijichi seems to be invested in.

Once he drops you off you head towards the dingy looking building, arms stretched upwards in a tired sigh to stretch your sore muscles, “let’s get this over with”

An eerie bell jingle fills the atmosphere when you swing the doors open, the place is surprisingly not dirty, just very run down. The painted children’s characters on the walls are chipped away leaving them with deformed faces, booth cushions are sunken in and appear lumpy, and the counter is littered with fallen stacks of paper menus and coupons. The curse was doing a solid job of hiding its presence so far, but you could see the faint aura surrounding its footprints that lead into the playground, so you follow them carefully, keeping your guard up as you pass through the door frame.

From the back the curse looks like a child, about 6-9 years old, cowering inside the ball pit with its freakishly humanoid hands wrapped around its knees. It had long matted hair that looked neglected, but when it turned around revealing its face to you, you audibly gagged.

Sunken eyes that resembled two voids on its face were housing what looked to be tens of bugs, it lacked a nose but had a vertical mouth with tight sutures holding the pale rotted flesh together that began to rip and ooze this black-ish blood as it gave a feeble attempt at speaking,

“M….m….ma..ma…………..mama………p-p…..pa….papa….?” it repeated, like a broken record. Great, an abandoned child curse with bug infested eyes, no way in hell were you gonna let that thing get within five feet of you. Jumping a few steps back, you pulled a vial out of your utility belt containing an amaranthine purple liquid, and discreetly unscrewed the top, using your technique to manipulate a thread like stream of it towards the curse, allowing it to trickle into the ballpit, slowly forming a puddle.. Drip, drop, drip, drop, drip, drop..

There was no hostility in the air, although you had a feeling in your gut telling you that any wrong move or sound could warrant an attack, so you didn’t want to risk it.

Still taking calculated steps back while trying to maintain a steady stream, you still when you hear a squeak as the back of your heel comes in contact with a toy basketball, “shit” you mutter under your breath, head shooting up immediately to see the curse standing up at its full height, but it stopped its yapping now. It was quiet. Too quiet.

Sweat trickles down the side of your face, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand with goosebumps on the surface of your skin, and before you have a chance to react the curse lets out a visceral scream, lunging towards you with pure killing intent.

Your feet move on their own, just barely getting you out of line for the hit, but the curse manages to land a momentary blow on your bruised left shoulder, you hiss in pain, clutching your shoulder and sprinting into the ballpit.

The curse is fast but you evade it’s attempt to strike you again, causing it to land in the ballpit with you, it tries to reach you but the balls hinder its movements slightly, allowing you to manipulate the small puddle you trickled into the ballpit earlier, you coated a couple of balls in the liquid, imbuing the liquid surrounding them with your cursed energy and shooting one at the curse.

One lands against its abdomen, making it brutally cough up more of that black-ish blood through its mouth sutures, another scream pierces your eardrums and this time the curse rips through the threads binding its mouth closed, and you utilize this prime opportunity to launch the second ball into that bloody abyss of a mouth, it hits the back of the curses’ throat and you manipulate the liquid once more to trickle down its throat.

The curse attempts to resist, coughing out spurts of the blood-mixed cyanide you just savagely forced down its throat, it comes out of the eyes, forcing the bugs to crawl out of the void and into the curses’ hair in an attempt to seek refuge. Its unsightly, sour bile rises in the back of your throat and you swallow it down as you watch the curse asphyxiate, falling onto the blood splattered balls with its hands around its neck, trying desperately to breathe.

You almost feel bad for it, you can’t stand to look at it die so slowly anymore so you pull out a small cursed knife tool you keep on you, and chuck it through its frontal lobe. Then the silence hits, the curse disintegrates into mere particles and you make a move to pick the knife up. At the corner of your eye you spot a small window, you tuck the knife back into your utility belt and walk in its direction.

Outside the window there’s a peculiar looking building, you squint your eyes to read the sign, and you sigh, it’s a school for orphaned children..Your heart pangs in your chest for a split second as you remember yourself as an orphaned child…No, this is no time for emotions…

“Fuck them kids..” the words escape your faded glossed lips in a quiet mumble, with no real bite behind them, as you pad out of the restaurant into the somber street. You’re tired, your shoulder feels even more sore now, so you postponed picking up your new uniform..fishing your phone out of your pocket you dial Gojo-sensei’s number.

“Hello?” He picks up on the second ring, he must have been on his phone.

“Hello, Gojo-sensei? Can you come pick me up? I just finished a mission and Ijichi is in a meeting” Your voice comes out shaky, unintentionally.

“Where are you? Send me the location, are you hurt?” His tone is soft, it makes you feel tingly inside..

“I’m fine, sensei.. My shoulder is just a bit bruised up..” you gulp, why do you feel nervous right now?

“Stay where you are, i’ll be there soon” he hangs up, making a beeline to his car, still in his casual clothes. He had been lounging at home when you called, his next mission wasn’t til tomorrow afternoon so he had some rare time off for himself, but he couldn’t help but feel worried for you now, he’ll have to scold Ijichi later for leaving you all alone..after all, he does care very deeply for his students.

The sound of his motor revving fills the parking lot of his snobby rich people apartment complex, and he goes out into the night, location displayed on the screen of his luxurious car that he seldom drives.

It only takes around 10 minutes for him to reach your street, it was a quiet night and few cars littered the roads. You perk up as soon as you see him park in front of you, you hear a small click signaling that he unlocked the door, and you climb into the passenger seat, it’s comfy and spacious, fit for a princess..

“Hey, how are you feeling? Was the mission okay?” he turns towards you and you make brief eye contact over his circular glasses.

Your eyes rake over his frame and his exposed arms in a short-sleeved white tee as they flex inadvertently while he makes a U-turn. He notices you zoning out but he doesn't pay it any mind.

“Oh, uh, I’m alright, Sensei..the mission was fine, nothing I can’t handle” your words come with a grin, which he returns with a genuine one himself,

“I never doubted you, well done” the sincerity in his words mixed with his slightly hushed voice burns a pit in your lower abdomen and you inhale deeply to calm yourself down. You thank him and stare out the window, trying to distract yourself, you’re too tired to converse too deeply, despite how badly you want to.

The sight of neon signs and street lights fills your heavy lidded eyes, and you’re on the verge of sleeping when the car comes to a halt at a red light, you scan your surroundings once more and your eyes widen when you spot a sign for a private onsen. Perfect.

“Gojo-sensei!” you turn to him, excited.

“Yeah?” he smiles at you.

“Can you take me to that onsen? I feel really beat up, I could use a dip in a hot spring..” you sigh, pressing your hand to your bruised shoulder.

He hums and makes a turn onto the street, parking his car in front of the building and taking out some crisp looking notes from his wallet to hand to you,

“For the entry fee, I can pick you up when you’re done” he smiles, you take the money and pocket it, that won’t do.

“Huh? What do you mean? You’re not coming in with me?” you feign innocent confusion, and you can almost hear the gears turn in his head when he asks “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you went with Megumi and Yuji a few weeks ago, right? So why don’t you wanna go with me?” your indifference while asking him a question like that has him sweating bullets in 20 degree weather.

“Isn’t that kind of…” he gulps “..weird?” and you frown,

“Why would it be weird? It’s the same as being in a public onsen. Don’t you wanna relax too, sensei?” you shrug oh-so-casually, and he sits there for a second, pondering it seems..

‘She’s right…why am I overthinking this?’ He straightens up and shoots you a coy smile, “sure, I guess I do.. Let’s go then”,

Suppressing your smirk was no easy task, especially after pulling that off, you expected him to downright refuse, so now you have to go along with a whim you weren’t even sure was gonna play out.. Deep breaths, in, out, in, out… The car door opening startles you, when did he get there? But you clear your throat and step out, walking alongside him to the entrance of the building. There are a few vending machines that stock green tea and water outside, and the reception area is small and dimly lit.

After the fees are paid you are both shown to your private onsen, it’s overlooking a rock garden with bamboo fencing sectioning it off from the other springs, next to the door was a small shower booth, along with a rack full of unscented body wash and thin white towels. You make the first move, shedding your bag and shoes and leaving them by the door,

“Can I shower first? I’m dying to get in that water” you pout dramatically and he chuckles, but it comes out tense,

“Sure, go ahead, I’ll turn around so you can change..” and he does so immediately, facing the wall which in turn also hides his slightly blushed cheeks. “ Stop it, she’s your student. This isn’t a big deal..” he internally scolds himself, he feels conflicted, part of him wants to back out and leave, but technically, there’s nothing inherently wrong about being in an onsen with your student, he’s done it before like you said…It’s not like he got a raging boner when he saw you with a lollipop yesterday…’wait, no, that was because I ignored my morning wood, yes! I’m not a pervert!’ but his train of thoughts is derailed when he hears you coming out of the shower, your damp footsteps echoing on the floor, then he hears your dulcet voice calling out to him,

“Your turn, Gojo-sensei!” you watch as his tall figure turns around, expression unreadable behind his pitch-black glasses but you can sense his gaze on your towel clad body. He clears his throat and you take that as a hint to turn away, giving him the same privacy he gave you, despite the overwhelming urge to see him undress..you dip your foot into the steamy water, then your leg, entering with a sigh as the warmth engulfs your body, ridding you of a majority of today’s fatigue. Smooth rocks press against your skin as you lean back, getting comfortable, but you wince when your left shoulder brushes against the rock wall, so you tilt your head the opposite way and begin to massage the soreness away.

Gojo exits the shower booth with a towel wrapped around his waist, skin damp from the water and steam and the first thing he sees is the side of your pretty figure, wincing in pain as you massage your bruised shoulder, your towel was thin, clinging to you like a second skin, and his eyes subconsciously trace over the curve of your brea-

He clears his throat, determined not to let any sort of twisted thoughts plague his mind right now. The sound makes you turn to his direction, and your jaw nearly drops. Gojo-sensei was standing a few feet away from you, abs and chest muscles glistening, skin dewy with steam and staring at you through his glasses whilst you’re both clad in thin white towels.. fuck, you have to play your cards right. So you feign innocence once more, smiling softly at him and beckoning for him to come in, spewing some bullshit about how great the water feels, when the only thing on your mind at this moment is how great he would feel.

He settles into the water and you go back to massaging your shoulder, and it's as if a lightbulb went off in your head at that very second, so you pretend to struggle, groaning in frustration because you just can’t massage yourself right… and he feels bad, you’re in pain and he’s just sitting there watching, what kind of sensei would he be if he just let you stay in your sorry state when you should be relaxing? So he turns off his brain for a moment and calls out to you,

“Do you..need a hand?” he asks softly, not wanting it to sound wrong, and you bite your cheek to suppress your smile again.

“Yeah, please, sensei..” you reply with a groan, turning so that your back faces him now, “it’s really sore..I can’t bear it..” you dramatize your words. And before you know it his large hands are on your skin, he’s close enough that you can hear his breath and it makes goosebumps rise under his fingertips but he doesn’t comment on it, instead focusing on relieving his poor little student of all her unbearable pain…

His hands are practiced, experienced, he presses into your sore spots with the right amount of pressure, making you whimper and breathe shakily, which he tries his absolute hardest to ignore, to tune out, you don’t sound cute to him right now, you’re just in pain…that’s right…he’s not on the verge of losing his composure if you keep whimpering so close to him while his hands press into your ridiculously soft skin…”Focus, Satoru..” his internal voice screams at him.

But your mmh’s and ahh’s are deliberate, and they’re working. However it’s getting increasingly difficult to deal with the situation between your legs. Your thighs have been pressed together for what feels like hours now, yearning for some sort of friction, some sort of relief , and all logic flies out the window when you decide to trace your fingers up your thigh, inching your towel up slowly and discreetly, and it’s when you slide a finger against your slit that you gasp, nearly squealing at how sticky and good it felt, this startles Gojo, prompting him to ask, “are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine, sensei…just, don’t stop…the soreness is going away” you lie through frenzied breaths, all he did was gulp and continue his ministrations. He was probably under the impression that he was helping you out, which technically he was, just not in the way that he thinks right now..poor sensei..

Your middle finger teases your folds under the towel, dipping into your slit to gather the strings of wetness and coming back up to brush lightly against your neglected clit, the feeling of his skilled hands on your body, and your fingers on your most sensitive parts is erotic, you feel light-headed at the gentle stimulation you’re giving yourself, meanwhile Gojo seems like he has his head in the clouds, hands moving on their own as he tries to distract himself enough so that he doesn’t accidentally get aroused again. He hasn’t even noticed or commented on your obscene act, you were either really good at hiding it, or he was just too focused on not focusing on you that it just went unnoticed.

Either way, you’re winning, your pointer finger joins your middle in tracing feather-light circles around your clit, pinching it lightly between the tips which has you biting your lip hard enough to draw blood, the metallic taste lingers on your tongue as your fingers pick up the pace slightly, alternating between figure eight’s and circles, going down to tease at your entrance, you’re floating, before you knew it the familiar knot twists in your stomach and suppressing your moans is starting to hurt. Your fingers lose their rhythm, no longer tracing practiced shapes, as you desperately fight to push yourself to that edge, in the most quiet way possible.

Euphoria washes over you in waves, starting from your core and spreading down into your toes, you’re breathing so heavily you could fill up an air mattress, rubbing lightly at your now swollen nub as you ride out, possibly, the most silent and scandalous orgasm you’ve ever had.

“Are you..” he coughs “are you okay? You’re uh…breathing really heavy” his voice is hoarse, he sounds…Troubled.

“Y-yeah…thank you, Gojo-sensei…that was a great..massage..” you don’t mean to pause before saying massage, but he picks up on it, his hands leave your skin and you suddenly feel cold, despite the steam surrounding your body,

“We should probably um, leave…now.” he sounds dazy, something’s definitely up with him but he’s not saying, you didn’t feel his eyes on you while you were… helping yourself out ..so it can’t be that.

He stands up, clutching his towel around his waist and steps out of the water, frantically grabbing his clothes, muttering something about needing the restroom and to meet him at the car, and he’s gone like the wind.. You shrug, feeling satisfied with what just happened so you step out of the water too, changing back into your uniform and loitering outside while you wait for Gojo-sensei, scrolling through some random social media feed..

—---------------------------------

Gojo all but breaks the restroom door down, clawing his way into a stall with the most painful boner he’s had since his late teens, he slams a fist into the wall and it cracks under his knuckles, “what the fuck just happened? Was she fucking touching herself?” The truth is, he noticed it right away, from the moment you pressed your pretty round thighs together a little too hard, he has the fucking six eyes, of course he noticed. But he ignored it, like a good sensei would, maybe he was just projecting his perverse inner thoughts onto you, his sweet innocent student, as delicate as a flower…you’d never do something that corrupt..But you did…you did? You touched yourself that way while he was massaging your shoulder and yet he still ignored it…why? He doesn’t know.

Maybe part of him wants to give you the benefit of the doubt here, maybe you were just…itchy? Yeah, that’s reasonable. Way more reasonable than his sweet doe eyed student cumming while he massaged her. There's no way. There's no way. You would never…you were too innocent..too sweet..he’s just a pervert. Fuck, he’s a pervert.

Even if you truly didn’t do that, the mere thought of it had him rock hard in the palm of his hand, fisting his leaky red tip with his forehead pressed against the cold tile of the wall, in a measly attempt to ground himself. “Stop it, Satoru…Fuck..” his internal voice blaring at him like an alarm, red and loud, telling him his thoughts are reducing him into a low-life pervy scum that shouldn’t be allowed within twenty feet of a woman.

He shouldn’t think this way, he shouldn’t be this way, he shouldn’t act this way, he’s the strongest fucking sorcerer, why is he in a single restroom stall fantasizing about his students’ warm, wet pussy right now? She didn’t even do anything, he’s the pervert here. It’s his fault for thinking of her that way. He should feel horrible, he should feel ashamed.

He’s so fucked..

He tucks his still-hard cock into his boxers, throwing the rest of his clothes on and taking deep breaths as he walks to where the car was parked. If there’s one thing Gojo Satoru knows how to do, it’s mask how he’s feeling, so he plasters on his most nonchalant smile, opening the car door for you and swallowing the saliva he didn’t know had built up in his throat. The drive back was silent, there was an unspoken tension so thick you could barely hear the faint music of his playlist over it, before you know it you’re in front of the dorm building in Jujutsu High.

You turn to Gojo-sensei and he smiles at you, bidding you goodnight and you lean in and give him a slight side hug, which makes his sleepy eyes shoot open, you whisper in his ear, “Goodnight, Gojo-sensei…see you tomorrow..”, and then you’re gone, walking off in the distance to your room, and he buries his face in palms, “you’re making this a problem, she was just saying goodnight…what’s gotten into you, Satoru?” he shakes his head at his thoughts, driving back home in total silence, not in the mood for music.

You go about your routine as normal, cheeks blushed and body on fire, you’re replying to a text from Maki when a notification rolls in..

“@Gojothestrongest1 has requested to follow you”

——————————————————

CHAPTER 3: MASQUERADE

‘Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god? Gojo-sensei requested to follow me? Right after what just happened at the onsen?’ your thoughts blare at you like a broken car horn, why is he doing it NOW of all times?

Could it be that he felt something for you? He did offer to massage you after all..but the car ride said otherwise.. He felt tense.

This is completely normal right? The rest of the students follow him so this isn’t a big deal. But if you accept it now you’ll seem desperate, which of course you are, but you can’t make it that obvious. You have to keep him on his toes, he followed you, so maybe you should wait a day or two.

Your phone bounces on the edge of the bed where you throw it, staring up at the ceiling with a heat in your cheeks that matches the one burning in your core, this means you have a chance right?

He could have refused your onsen offer, maybe he didn’t give it much thought, but he still could have taken you to any other one, there were a few in the area that were separated by gender, and he knows that. So surely he wants you a little bit right?

The thought of him potentially wanting you the same way you want him has you kicking your feet up, almost like you have a little school girl crush. Then it hits you. You are a school girl. You do have a crush. A big one at that. Maybe you’re too far in your own delusions right now, fantasizing about a man 10 years older than you, but something in your gut tells you to grab your running shoes and chase those delusions at full speed.

It’s the weekend tomorrow so you’ll have plenty of time to delude yourself into thinking he’s into you, so you hug your pillow and drift away for the night.

—-----------------------------

“Hey- ouch! That hurts!” you exclaim, bringing your hand down to massage your poor inner thigh that is currently being stretched way past it’s limit

“Your combat has been shit lately, so shut up and stretch” Maki rolls her eyes pushing further down on your shoulders so you sink deeper into the splits “It’s not even that bad. Baby”

“Urgh, how nice of you to call your senpai that while t-torturing her,” you groan in response, “But I think you’re getting me mixed up with your overseas boyfr- OUCH!” She cuts you off with a smack on the head.

“First of all, I wasn’t calling you a pet name, I was calling you a baby. It was an insult, and second, he’s not my boyfriend” she scoffs, plopping down on her own yoga mat next to yours, giving a slight chuckle when she sees your pained expression as you maneuver your way out of the hellish stretch to a more normal sitting position.

“Aw, long distance not working out?” you tease, watching her cheeks grow red which she tries to mask with a hand on her face and furrowed eyebrows, ‘cute’ You think to yourself, as you take a sip from your water bottle, nearly choking when she points her middle finger at you. “That’s no way to treat your elders, you know” you smirk.

“Maybe if said elder wasn’t a bitch, I would respect her more” she jabs, stifling a laugh when you exaggerate your gasp, putting a show of putting your hand on your heart to show how offended you are.

“Damn, kids these days” you shake your head, laying back down on the silicone on your mat and staring up at the crows perched on top of the tree you’re using for shade.

“Oh shut up” she laughs, grabbing her phone and scrolling through her socials, she visibly cringes all of a sudden and sighs, “That blindfolded idiot doesn’t know how to post just one picture does he?”, which catches your attention.

“What was that?” you turn your head to the side to look at her, to which she answers

“Just Satoru making it everyone’s problem that he can’t decide on a suit. I swear whoever put this old man on social media is gonna have to pa- hey!” She’s cut off by you lunging for her phone, grabbing hold of the device to feast your eyes on the sight that is Gojo Satoru’s instagram story of him at an expensive looking suit shop.

You click through what feels like over fifty mirror selfies of him with various suits on, you can’t see his face but you can see the side of his sharp jawline and his mess of white hair, ‘he must not be wearing his blindfold because it looks softer than usual, fuck. He looks good.’

“Um, hello? What was that about?” Maki questions, taken aback at your sudden brashness.

“Do you know where he’s going?” You ignore her and question back eagerly, looking up at her with a devious sparkle in your eyes that she’s never seen before.

“Uhh, some masquerade ball at this hotel in Roppongi, apparently Nanami had bought himself a ticket a while back but he can’t go anymore so he gave it to Satoru. He’s been blabbing all week about he’s gonna come back as a ‘Refined gentleman’ and how he’ll ‘Give Nanami a run for his money’ from it” She explains, making finger quotes while trying not to visibly cringe, “Why do you wanna know anyways?” She raises an eyebrow at you.

“Oh, no reason” You toss her phone back to her, averting her suspicious gaze as you stand back up and begin to roll your yoga mat up.

“You’re going already? It’s barely noon” Her eyebrow raises again, trying to spot an ounce of bullshit in your words, you simply shrug and pick your things up, smiling down at her to say “I have a date, gotta go get ready, though you wouldn’t know about that 'cus your love life is like your cursed energy” you poke your tongue out at her and she laughs in disbelief.

“You really are a bitch!” She shouts at you while you walk back to the dorms.

“Love you toooooo!” You shout back, grateful you were able to evade her suspicions, you think.

—-----------------------------

You practically run out the door the second you change out of your sweaty active wear, not bothering to hop in the shower, you’ll do it later anyways. Jujutsu high was a fair distance away from the city center so that gives you plenty of time to phone up some hotels in Roppongi to ask about this alleged masquerade ball.

You have a few stops left on the bus before you get to the shopping district, It was one you frequented so you know the shops well, you dial the next hotel on the list while staring out the window, sighing as a knot twist in your stomach, 'this is probably futile, I’ve called so many already..'

Mentally preparing yourself for yet another fail, when you ask about the ball, but to your surprise the person on the other end of the phone answers,

“Yes we are hosting an anonymous masquerade ball tonight from 7, Tickets can be purchased for the drinks bar but the ball itself is free to attend!”

'Finally! Wait..did he say'..” Anonymous?” you question, to which the worker explains that one of the rules was to refrain from sharing any personal information about oneself, including names. Interesting, must explain the whole mask thing.

The bus comes to a stop and you hop off, striding down the busy streets to this dress shop you heard Nobara rave about a few weeks ago, it was fancy, way more than you could afford right now, but you’re already making unwise decisions, so will it really hurt to add financial ones to the list?

Probably, but all you can really think of now is how to dress to attract, you're no stranger to balls, you’ve attended a handful with your parents as a child, but that was before the… Nope. Not today.

Clearing your throat, you step into the shop, eyeing the racks of couture dresses and shoes to match, you feel the materials, occasionally pulling one off the rails and holding it to your body in the mirror to contemplate,

“Can I help you with something, miss?” A saleswoman calls out to you, waving politely from behind you, you turn around to speak,

“Oh, I’m actually going to a ball tonight, a masquerade.. Do you happen to have any masks here?” You explain.

“You’re in the right place! Masks and accessories are on the floor above, would you like me to lead you there?” She smiles, and you nod, eager to see the options as it all finally starts to come together in your head, you’re that much closer..

You follow her with a nervous smile, still holding on to that last dress you pulled off the rail, she takes you up the elevator, leading you to a lavish looking accessory room. You’re browsing the seemingly endless options of masks and jewellery when she suddenly cuts in,

“Um, I couldn’t help but notice, the dress you picked out is a dark navy..Are you a fan of the color blue?” She questions, you look down at the silk dress draped over your arm. Blue, huh?

“I guess you could say so? I mostly picked this out for the shape and the material, why do you ask?” You smile back, curious to hear what she has to say.

“Well..If you’re set on that option, I would suggest that you pair it with something like this..” She approaches with a black box in her hands, inside it is a Venetian style mask, decked with silver trimmings and crystals, in a piercing shade of blue…a very familiar piercing shade of blue..

You can’t help the chuckle that leaves your mouth in disbelief, this is golden , what are the odds?

“I’ll take it. And the dress. And the matching pumps.” You grin, despite the ridiculous amount of money you’ll have to cough up, you can’t miss out on this.

The saleswoman triumphantly guides you to the cash register after grabbing your size in the dress and heels. You try to seem nonchalant when she rings you up, but you can practically hear the faint screams of your bank account when you swipe your card to pay. No wonder Nobara only shops with Gojo’s Card..

—-----------------------------

“Champagne?” A server approaches with a tray,

“Oh, No thank you” You politely decline, you’ve been here for an hour already and there’s no sign of Gojo-sensei anywhere.. It's starting to get busier by the minute, but you aren’t giving up now, not after spending an ungodly amount of money and time getting ready. A few attendants compliment you, more notably, your mask, you opted for a subtle makeup look, focusing on your eyes to make them prominent under the mask.

Nobody can tell who you are even if they try, the mask covers the top half of your face, and your hair is done up rather than being worn down. You look different. Hopefully different enough to the point where a certain white haired man won’t recognise you.

Speaking of white hair, your heart skips out of your chest when you see a flash of it towering over the countless heads in the crowd. He’s here. Gulping, you decide to follow as he makes his way to the bar, he chats with the bartender for a minute, you can’t hear him over the music but you can finally see him properly.

Slicked back hair, a black and gold phantom mask, and an all black suit and tie. Holy fuck, he looks alluring.

You’re too engrossed in his ridiculously attractive face to notice the flock of women that begin to surround him, all too nervous to make the first move, yet for some reason he pays them no mind, simply opting to lean against the bar and take large sips of his overly fruity cocktail while crowd watching. He finishes his drink relatively fast, motioning for the bartender to make him another, and you decide to approach him.

His eyes land on you the second you infiltrate the busy bar area, breath hitching when he realises you’re about to talk to him. Truth is, he spotted you moments after he walked in, your cursed energy was practically seeping out from how nervous you are. He thought it may be a coincidence until you start following him, and now approaching him, before he has time to collect his thoughts properly, you’re draping yourself over the counter, arms crossing over it as you peer up at him through your blue mask and long eyelashes.

He glances down at you from the side, sipping on his cocktail and masking his nerves with a trademark smirk, “Hm? What have we here? Can I help you, pretty girl?” He tries not to stare down the curve of your breasts where the dress dips, but from where he towers over you it’s inevitable…

“Maybe, I just happened to spot a handsome stranger all by himself so I thought I’d keep him company” You smirk back, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, making him chuckle. ‘Stranger, huh?’ He thinks.

“I’m honoured” He grins, taking yet another large sip of his cocktail, “Any reason you chose me out of all the men here?” his eyebrow rises with the question.

“Why do you ask?” You question back, to which he lightly sighs, ditching the cocktail straw and chugging the rest of the tall glass in one go.

“Hm, I don’t know, I just thought I seemed a little old for you..” He answers, silently praying you’ll give up your flirtatious antics and move on to the next man. But all you do is bat your eyelashes at him with an innocent smile before saying,

“Not that I know how old you are, but..” You stand on you tip toes, leaning over his shoulder to whisper in his ear “What if I like it that way?”

You don’t miss the way his grip on the counter tightens, splintering the wood under his nails, and for a moment you linger, breathing against the shell of his ear, waiting for him to break the silence but he doesn’t.

His mind runs a mile a minute, he shouldn’t have had any to drink, 'fuck, i’m a lightweight'.

The mix of alcohol and conflicting emotions he’s feeling for you since the night before at the onsen is stirring his head up.

Surely you know it’s him, right? But why would you knowingly approach your teacher and say that? No. You would never. If you knew it was him, you would have said so. Maybe he’s reading too deep into this. He was wearing a mask after all.

Before he has the chance to respond, you brush your lips against his earlobe, leaving a faint lipstick stain as you whisper once more, “meet me in the bathrooms outside the main hall”, Disappearing into the crowds with a pounding in your chest, equal to the one in his pants right now.

'So she doesn’t know. She thinks I'm just some stranger. Why does she want me to meet her there? Wait, don’t be stupid, Satoru. You know exactly why. Fuck. Should I do it? What would your reaction be if you found out you just flirted with your teacher? You would be mortified…right…?'

He sighs deeply, staring at the door to the bathrooms, how the fuck did he even get here?

'Should I go in? I mean, I’m already here. Might as well, right? Maybe she just wants to talk..yeah..talk..' He tries to reason with himself.

With shaky hands, he pushes the door open, stepping in to find you sitting on the sink counter, patiently tapping your nails on the ceramic. The side slit in your dress fell to the side, exposing your crossed legs to him. Your head shoots towards the door and you smile, turning your body slightly to face the door,

“You came” You jump off the sink to stand at your full height, waiting patiently for his next move with a glint in your eyes behind the mask.

He’s trying, he’s really trying to hold himself back, but the alcohol stirring his head up, and the way you’re looking at him like you’re famished, and the fact that you apparently don’t know that it’s him.. He’s seconds away from breaking.

'She’ll never know, right? Fuck’

He’d be a horrible person for doing this, but he wants you so badly right now. If it wasn’t for the liquid courage he would have never found himself here in the first place.

Click, clack, your heels echo as you make your way towards him, reaching one arm behind his back to lock the door and the other arm around his neck, pulling him inches away from your face, your heart is racing, you feel like you’re about to faint if he doesn’t kiss you right now.

Staring into his eyes, your lip quirks up into a half smirk to say “So..?” in a challenging tone, and he breathes in sharply through his nose.

'She’ll never know, right?.'

'Fuck it.'

His lips smash against your own in desperation, you move in tandem with him as he brings his hands down to your waist and backs you up to the sink again. The edge pokes at your lower back and you squeal when he hoists you up with no effort to sit you down, never once separating his lips from yours.

Your bodies are on fire, the rush you both have from knowing how wrong it is to be doing this is only serving to amplify the lust and attraction, you moan into his mouth and he groans, pulling back and breathing so heavily that you start to wonder, 'is he okay?'

Though your mind only falters for a split second, as his lips are back on yours in an instant, licking your bottom lip 'til you grant him access, he slips his tongue into your mouth and just when it’s starting to get heated, he pulls away, you see a look of uncertainty flash across his face and he drops his head down to kiss at your jaw instead,

His lips trail down the side of your jaw down to your neck, he bites at your sweet spot, and your mind blanks when he sucks at it lightly and runs his tongue across it, you can’t help the moans that escape your lips. His breath stutters when he hears your pretty voice, hands trailing down the sides of your waist, sliding to your lower back, and grazing the curve of your ass lightly, he brings his lips closer to yours again, brushing against them as you pant against him.

“Please, just touch me already..” you plead, voice laced with a desperation he just can’t deny right now.

So he slots himself between your legs, brushing his hands up and down the tops of your thighs, slowly opening your legs up for him and you shudder when the cool air hits your most sensitive parts. Taking one of his hands and cupping your heat, he expects to find the damp fabric of your panties, but is instead met with the slick dripping off your bare pussy, he groans in surprise, length twitching in his suit trousers when he feels you hot and wet against his palm,

“Shit, no panties huh?” He smirks, surprising himself with how into this he is when says, “Kind of feels like you planned this, pretty girl”. You whimper in response, grinding your hips into his hand and he grabs your hip to stop you.

“Use your words. What do you want, hm?” He asks, biting at your neck again.

Your mind is so hazy you can barely form a sentence, still in disbelief that you’re actually here right now, spreading your legs for none other than Gojo-Sensei, and he doesn’t even know it's you.

Through frenzied breaths you manage to choke out, “F-fingers..I want your fingers..please..” And he bites his lip so hard he starts to taste metal. 'So polite, so cute and needy, you don’t even know who you’re begging right now..This is so fucked, but i’m already here. Might as well finish what I started right?'

A long finger teases your folds, dipping into your heat for a split second and pulling back out to trace feather light circles over your clit.

You’re dying at this point, head tipping down to nuzzle into the crook of his neck as you whine, begging “please, please, do something..” you shudder, and he rubs a hand along your back soothingly.

“Shh, I got you, baby.. Only ‘cus you asked so nicely..” He coos, sliding his middle finger inside you to the base of his knuckle, and you gasp, his fingers are so much bigger than yours, and that’s only one..

He starts to slide it out slowly, pushing it back in with a curl to prod at that spongy spot that has you gripping his bicep and digging your nails into it, “Right there?” He adds another finger, curling them up at your G-spot again, and you nod frantically, moaning so sweetly for him while he stretches your impossibly tight cunt.

For a short while, it drowns out any stray thoughts about morals or about this being wrong.. All he cares about right now is your sweet little pussy, dripping all over his fingers and squeezing him for dear life. 'You’ll need way more prep if you’re going to take my cock..Fuck, if you’re this tight around my fingers then..'

His groans and your moans fill the atmosphere, along with the lewd squelching of your arousal as he finger fucks you, hard. He brings his other hand forward to slide your dress straps down, freeing your breasts, he’s quick to bring his head down, placing open mouthed kisses all over and in the valley between them, he then latches his lips onto one of your nipples, peering up at you through his phantom mask, never letting up his pace with his fingers.

Your eyes meet and he bites down lightly, causing you to arch your back and furrow your brows, “Fuck, fuck, fuck… ”, and he chuckles when he feels you start to clamp down on his fingers,

“Sensitive? Are you close, baby?” He whispers, tweaking your other nipple with his fingers, and you nod again, throwing your head back against the sink mirror as you near your release, and he knows it, he feels it.

“Cum for me, pretty girl, go on, make a mess for me”, He breathes against your mouth, just barely brushing his lips against yours but not kissing them, and your coil snaps, you moan loudly as you come down from your high, thighs shaking uncontrollably, this is your first orgasm that wasn’t self induced. And it was given to you by Gojo-Sensei..Your mind feels so foggy..

His fingers slow their pace, helping you ride it out as he feels your cum coat his fingers, and he wants to do it again, he wants, no, he needs to feel you cum again, but on his cock this time..

In the blink of an eye he grabs your legs and pulls you forward, you yelp when you feel your ass hang off the sink, but he grabs you and wraps your legs around his waist, pressing the large tent in his pants into your still throbbing cunt, and it feels so big..

You’re still recovering from your orgasm when he grinds into you, making your body shake, and bringing his lips to your ear to whisper “Think you can take my cock now, baby? Think that little pussy is ready for me?” He grinds into you again, making your eyes roll back.

“B-but..” You hesitate, and he looks you in the eye,

“But what..?” He raises an eyebrow at you, unsure of what could possibly come out of your mouth next..

“I’m…a virgin..” You confess, peering up at him through your mask, as you see him freeze, and your stomach drops. ‘Fuck. I shouldn’t have said that.’

“A…Virgin..” He repeats, slowly, trying to process the information. ‘She’s…a virgin. She’s a virgin. Wait. Of course she’s a fucking a virgin. She’s so innocent. She’s my student. Oh god. She’s my fucking student. What have I done? She doesn’t even know it’s me. Fuck. Yep, the alcohol just wore off. This is too far. I went too far.’

He slowly sets your legs down to the floor, taking a step back with a deep breath, ‘calm down, Satoru, just make an excuse to leave now, and freak out about it at home.’

Pulling his phone out and enacting an emergency, he dramatically gasps at his screen, placing a hand on his cheek as he fakes reading a supposedly very important text message,

“Ahhh, shit, so sorry sweetheart, I really have to go, I uh.. My son's dog, he’s really sick! Throwing up all over the house, it’s really bad..” He inches closer to the door,

“We might need to put him down! Poor thing, practically waiting to be put out of his misery now. I’ll have to console my son and everything..You know how it is! Thanks for understanding! Take care!” He tries to pull the door open, but it’s locked, “Shit” he mutters under his breath, turning the lock as quickly as he can and all but lunging out the door to run to his car where he can panic in peace.

No fucking way.

You’re left dumbfounded, staring at the door with trembling thighs and a slightly dropped jaw. He did not just do that. You try not to take it personally, I mean, he literally didn’t know it was you, but wow, that was…wow..

Your lip starts to tremble slightly as thoughts flood your mind, ‘why didn’t he wanna fuck me?! Is it because I'm a virgin? Fuck, I shouldn’t have told him..’ You rip your mask off, tossing it away on the floor, and all but ripping your hair out of your up-do. What if this was your only chance with him and you just blew it?

Walking out of the bathroom, you feel tears staining your cheek and your mascara run but you don’t care in the slightest. Avoiding any and all reflective objects so as to not witness the hot mess you are right now.

One chance. You had one chance to actually fuck the man of your dreams and you blew it. You were so close, he fingered you, he fucking fingered you and then you fumbled. Fuck, you hate yourself.

Not even thinking twice, you make your way out of the main hall, trudging down the parking lot onto the street and into the nearest bar. Alcohol will help. Alcohol always helps.

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

A shot turns into two, then to three, then to who knows how many, you lost count, but you’re drinking! Who doesn’t love to drink? Not you, you fucking love it. Drinking makes the feelings go away!

“Excuse moi! Can I haveee just oneeeeeee more shot of Tenquila? Pleaseeeeeee?” You slur your words to the poor bartender who looks at you with concern.

“I think you’ve had enough te-quila miss. Ten shots to be exact. Do you have anyone that can take you home?” He questions, hoping you would say yes.

“Boooooo! I still wanna drink though!” You frown, making a thumbs down gesture at the bartender who is definitely not getting paid enough to deal with this.

“Miss, either you call someone or we’ll call you a cab, but I’m kicking you out. For your own good.” He says sternly, instantly regretting it when he sees your eyes well up with tears.

“FINE!” You sniffle, fishing your phone out of your purse, and dialling the first person that comes to mind..

Though your little drunk self doesn’t seem to notice, or care, that she hears a phone ring behind her, at the exact moment she is making the call, which picks up in an instant anyways. You don’t give him a chance to answer before you shout through the speaker,

“GOJO-SENSEI…CAN YOU COME PICK ME UP? I’M B-BEING KICKED O-OUT…F-FROM A BAR..” You shout, in between sniffles and sobs, throwing your head down on the bar counter and closing your eyes.

A minute or so passes but it feels like ten, because when you lift your head up, Gojo sensei is paying your bill and leaning forward to drape your wobbly arms around his shoulders.

“Sensei! Y-you came! That was fast!” You exclaim, hiccuping mid sentence as you stare at his face, his hair is up and he has his blindfold on now, you throw your head on his chest as he picks you up from the bar chair, bridal style.

“Yeah, of course I came, darling, Let’s get you home, okay?” He swallows the lump in his throat, still beating himself up about what happened earlier. He took advantage of you and you didn’t even know, and here you are, thinking of him first to call for help.

The guilt hits him hard when you nuzzle into his neck during the walk to the car, drunkenly muttering something about how he makes you feel so safe. You’re so pure and wholesome. He’s just disgusting.

But still, he can't help the small smile that creeps up on his lips every time he glances over at you, passed out in the back seat on the way back to the dorms. He’ll make it up to you, he’ll atone, in his own way.

How you didn’t notice him following you down the street and into the bar to keep an eye on you was beyond him. He must have really upset you when he left so suddenly, but it was the right thing to do.

He’ll have to teach you more about noticing your surroundings, what if you had been stalked by someone, or ambushed by a curse in your vulnerable state? He sighs while carrying you into your room, setting you down on your bed as slowly as he can to avoid waking you.

Your heels clack on the ground where he disposes of them, before pulling the covers over your body. For a second, he stares down at you, taking off his blindfold to really look at you. Runny mascara, disheveled hair, and a crease between your brows as you drift off into dreamland.

He’s unsure of what he feels at this moment. Guilt? Lust? Confusion? All the above?

A light snore snaps him out of his thoughts. Right, he should let you sleep, after all that happened, this is the least he can do..

“Goodnight, pretty girl” He bites the inside of his cheek, as he leaves your room, sighing as he teleports into his own.

Stripping off his clothes, he lays his head on the pillow, arms crossed over his chest as he stares into the ceiling, knowing at least one thing for sure;

He’s not getting any sleep tonight.

————————————————

Chapter 4: CRUSH?

Nausea, a thrumming headache, and bile rising in the back of your throat are what greet you the second you open your eyes. Clearly last night went great for you, though your hazy mind is telling of the fact that you will have no recollection of it for a while.

It’s not exactly pleasant, spending the first portion of your morning hunched over the toilet bowl, spilling your guts (and regrets) from the night before, but in a way it’s like you’re letting it all go, flushing it down the drain where it belongs so you can pretend it never happened and peacefully move on.

Which, speaking of what happened, what the fuck did you even do last night? Do you even wanna know? Probably not. But judging by the fact that you went out drinking and ended up in your own bed, clearly nothing happened with Gojo-sensei.

You’ll take this failed attempt with a grain of salt, there’s always more chances after all, or at least those are the bullshit words you’re spewing at yourself now to make you feel better.

Accepting that fact, you spend the rest of your morning fighting through the urge to go back to sleep while you get ready for your mission later today. You’re supposed to be joining Yuji and Nanami to gather more leads on the patchface curse, but Gojo will be taking you there, and regrouping with you all at the end of the day.

All the more reason to get dolled up, aside from masking the fact that you look and feel like a walking corpse, courtesy of your lovely hangover of course. Cherry lip gloss, fake eyelashes, and a bow in your hair are enough to do the trick, you reckon.

You decide to grab a quick bite before heading over to the main building to meet Gojo. You’ll need the energy to prepare for whatever antics you have in store for this poor man today. On your way to the cafeteria, you get a message informing you that your new uniform is ready for pick-up today. Perfect, Gojo-sensei can drop you off.

—------------------------

“Morning, Sensei!” You shout, walking across the courtyard to his car and he waves back in your direction, leaning against the hood and scrolling on his phone, he immediately stuffs it into his pocket when he sees you and straightens up.

“You’re early, that eager to work with Yuji again?” He smiles, remembering how well your previous missions with the pink haired boy all went. He opens the car door for you to climb in.

“Maybe i’m just eager to see you” You smile, buckling yourself in while he climbs in next to you, doing the same, though his hands fumble with the buckle slightly when you give your reply. He quickly catches himself, coughing and fixing his rearview mirror as he shifts the topic, a little more tensely,

“Did you eat breakfast?” He asks.

“Oh, yeah I did, actually..do you mind taking me somewhere?” You ask back, tilting your head and looking at his side profile. He opted for his blindfold today, his hair sticking up, accentuating his side profile. His sharp jaw and long nose make him look nothing short of a sculpture, something someone spent hours of their time carving and shaping into absolute perfection. He licks his lips in contemplation, the thin layer of saliva casts a small sheen on them, and you can’t help but lick your lips back at the thought of how they would feel on top of yours, it invades your mind, the same way the artificial cherry of your gloss invades your mouth, a taste you’re sure a certain somebody with a sweet tooth would love.

You’re positive you’re wearing these emotions on your sleeve, at least it’s enough for him to sense it, since he shifts his attention back to the road, his smile falling a little at how intensely you’re staring, a sort of hunger present behind those wispy lashes of yours, not bold enough to comment on it, but it subtle enough for a man as perceptive as himself to pick up on.

“What-” He clears his throat “Where do you want to go? I don’t mind if it’s on the way.”

“The tailors” You reply, reaching into your bag and pulling out a lollipop, the rustling grabs his attention and he looks over.

“The tailors? You got a new uniform?” He asks, typing in the location to the tailors on his phone, and smiling at you.

“Mhm, everyone’s switching to summer uniforms lately. Thought I was due for an upgrade” You explain, extending your lollipop to him with a small tilt to your head, and he shakes his in response, thanking you anyways for the offer, you shrug and pop the plastic off, wrapping your lips around the candy with a satisfied hum, muttering a soft “your loss” as the sugar melts on your tongue.

It really is the simple things in life that fill you with joy, like the taste of artificial fruits, and the blush your sensei is so obviously trying to hide while he forces himself to focus on the road rather than your sweet little hums as you suck, and suck, and suck on the sugary treat, a little more feverishly than a normal person might. 'You must really love candy', he thinks. Swallowing down the saliva he didn’t know gathered in his throat.

You decide to bite some more, not sure if you can chew it all just yet, but still biting for the thrill of it.

“You sure you don’t want some? I know you have a sweet tooth like me” You pout, taking the sucker out of your mouth with an audible pop, holding it up to his face, and a groan dies in his throat. This is basically indirect kissing, right? Or is he overthinking this? Technically, he already kissed you once before, even though you didn’t know it was him, and you ended up getting trashed hours later and passed out in the back of his car.

He must have gotten lost in thought for a while because you start waving it around, pouting as you say “Come on, share with me! It’s too big for me to suck on all by myself” Suppressing your smirk at the last line as you enunciate each word with a soft whine.

He stiffens a little, mind going a hundred miles a minute as he tries not to focus on how every word you say somehow translates into an innuendo in his sick mind. There’s nothing inherently wrong with what you said, or what you’re offering.

He’s the weird one here. You’re just dying to share this lollipop with him. Who is he to refuse, especially when you’re being so kind to offer it twice. 'What’s sharing a piece of candy with your student, right?' he tells himself.

He opens his mouth, and you giggle, plopping your lollipop onto his tongue, his lips wrap around the candy and his breath hitches slightly, the sucker had your saliva all over it, he can taste you faintly in between the notes of sugar and fruit, and although light, it still overpowers the sweetness of the candy to him, all he can taste is you, not the same way he did a few moons ago at the ball, but still tasting you nonetheless. And just as he remembers, you’re sweeter than any candy. He unintentionally sucks harder, hoping to sap every last drop you left on there. If he can’t kiss you the way he wants again, he’ll savor any taste of you he can get.

‘This is messed up’ He thinks. How his tongue swirls around the candy languidly, savoring the taste. To the external eye, he’s just nursing a lollipop. And just as he thought, when he turns his attention back to you, you’re zoned out, tapping your prettily manicured nails atop his window. Unaware that his pervy self is concealing a semi because you're sweet enough to share a candy with him.

‘Damn, I need to get laid soon..’ He shakes his head, deeming that the case for his teen-like hormonal surge as of late. He doesn’t need you, he can’t need you, he just needs someone to relieve him of his tension. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t escape the mental image of you with your dress tugged down your pretty tits, head thrown back in ecstasy as you moan and gush all over his fing-

“Your destination is on the right!” The GPS announces, snapping him out of his lewd train of thought. With a shaky sigh, he pulls into the parking spot.

“I need to make a call, so you go ahead.” He lies through his teeth, leaning forward to hide the growing tent between his legs. Maybe he should ask for a looser pair of pants while he’s here..

“Hm, okay, I’ll be quick, but first-” You smile, daringly leaning over to place a quick peck on his cheek and to your surprise, he lets you, dropping his infinity barrier a second before your sticky plump lips meet the softness of his cheek. He freezes and you take the chance to slip the lollipop out of his mouth, popping it into your own with a smirk, leaving the car before he even has a chance to speak. He sits there for a moment, processing what just happened. It was just a sweet gesture right? No ill intentions behind it..Right?

Your lipgloss stains his cheek, and he brings a hand up to his face, brushing over the pigment, transferring the residue to his thumb. He observes the soft sheen, slightly red with specks of iridescence. It glimmers under the sunlight that seeps in through the cracks in the clouds. It’s pretty, he thinks, the subtlety of the color perfectly compliments a sweetheart such as yourself. It’s a downright shame the thoughts that plague his mind are anything but sweet.

With a gentle lick to his thumb to rid it of the stain, and a long sigh, he throws his head down onto the steering wheel, sliding a hand down over his trousers to grip his now fully hard erection with a hiss. He needs to stop. From now, all he’ll think about today is Gakuganji in the shower, another mental image he’ll never be able to erase, but a far less thrilling one. It’s humorous how quickly his hard-on went limp in his hand, and he silently thanks himself from 12 years in the past for breaking into the old geezers quarters to replace his shampoo with hair removal cream.

Minutes pass, and he finds himself reminiscing on his school days with a soft smile, one that slightly falters when you enter the car again, in a much shorter skirt.

One that was definitely borderline against school rules, especially with the way you’re sporting it with no tights underneath. Normally he wouldn’t care about things this trivial, you have the freedom to wear whatever you want anyways. But he’s sure you’ll rub some staff members the wrong way while practically parading around in a mini-skirt. He clears his throat, pulling out of the parking spot and handing you his phone.

“Wanna play music?” He offers, and you accept, scrolling through the music app to find your favorite songs and adding them into a playlist titled “ Your fav student :P”

The rest of the car ride is silent, but it’s comfortable. Apart from your occasional hums and mumbles to the song lyrics, there’s no pressure from either of you to hold small talk or conversation. Gojo-sensei drives relaxedly, an easy smile on his face, his eyes flicker to your thighs every once in a while, sighing in the process, and thankful he wore his blindfold today, so you wouldn’t see the way he ogles you, simultaneously wanting to punch himself for letting his gaze wander yet again.

When he drops you off with Nanami and Yuji, he bids you all farewell, and unsurprisingly, you lean in to give him a hug before he leaves, which prompts Yuji to do the same, throwing himself into the mix like a hyper-active puppy that just wants to be included, screaming “Group hug!”

“Alright alright, get in here both of you!” Gojo chuckles, wrapping both his arms around yours and Yuji’s shoulders, tucking you under his freakishly long arms. His large hands rest atop your heads, ruffling your hair as you squirm around, the three of you laughing like idiots.

The sudden sound of a throat being cleared snaps you all out of it, the blonde haired man standing before you seems unimpressed to say the least.

“Gojo-san, if you’ll excuse us, we have a lot of work to get on with. Please reserve your foolishness for another time.”

“Someone’s a buzz kill..” Gojo mumbles, dropping his arms to his sides, and stepping back. You turn to face him, cupping your hand around your mouth as you whisper shout “We’ll resume this later!” With a grin, and he chuckles in response, waving you off as he walks back to the car.

You turn back to face Nanami, who is already eyeing you up and down with an unreadable expression on his face. You had never worked with him before, but you’re no stranger to teaming up with Yuji. At least he’ll make this fun, you think.

A monotone voice calling your name forces you to straighten up, you lock eyes with Nanami as he blatantly says,

“I understand you’re Gojo-san’s student as well, let me make it clear that I am not of the same mindset. I expect you to be on your best behavior if you’d like to stay on this mission.” You frown at his words, what’s that supposed to mean?

Yuji must have sensed your discomfort because he immediately resorts to damage control, laughing nervously with a hand behind his head as he reassures you, “Nanamin is like that with everyone, he was even worse with me at first. Don’t let it get to you.” He smiles, and you can’t help but feel your heart warm. Perhaps this mission won’t go so badly after all.

Nanami interjects with a sigh, fixing his ugly glasses as he says to Yuji “I told you to stop calling me that.”

Yuji shrugs, retorting with a simple “Loosen up, Nanamin!”, to which the drained looking man sighs for what seems to be the 20th time in the span of a few minutes, opting to shake his head and start talking the two of you through the plan for today. He goes on, and on, seemingly never stopping with his useless explanations.

'It’s just a stupid curse' you think. you can all just tag team it and get it over with in a day. Why does he have to overcomplicate it? You rest your chin in the palm of your hand, struggling to keep your eyes open.

It's going to be a long day..

—------------------------

“They’re human.” Shoko confirms your suspicions over the phone, causing a tension so thick in the room it nearly starts to feel stuffy. You had noticed it, from the moment the first few transfigured curses fell at your hands. Something felt off, Yuji sensed it too. It was only when Nanami took a photo of the curses’ arm that you knew. But hearing it out loud just makes it more real.

Your eyes drift to Yuji, who is seated beside you on the small sofa, across from Nanami. His gaze never leaves the ground. He’s sulking, despite Shoko reassuring the two of you over the phone that you didn’t kill them, they were already dead. Death in this sense is upsetting, but it isn’t major to you, nor is the act of killing another human for that matter. Though for Yuji it seems to be a completely different case, you know he’s beating himself up about it. He’s empathetic, the type to really feel affected by the suffering of others. You admire how he wears his heart on his sleeve, unlike you who buries all your pain in the back of your throat and swallows it whole without chewing.

“Yuji?” You call him softly, and he meets your gaze for the first time since sitting down. “You mind showing me the restroom? I forgot where it was here.” You smile, and he smiles back gently. He knows you’re lying. There’s signs all over the building that lead you to where you need to be, but he still stands up, getting the message that you’d like a minute alone with him.

You reach the end of the hallway when he finally turns to ask “What did you wan- oh.” You silence him with a tight embrace, wrapping an arm around his neck and another around his head, bringing his face down to your shoulder.

“Shut up. Just let me comfort you.” You whisper, rubbing his shoulder soothingly as he relaxes into your hold, his sniffles are muffled against the fabric of your uniform, as he lets it all out.

“Senpai, I-” he tries to speak again, but you cut in once more, knowing what he needs most now is to hear “You’re not alone. Whatever you’re shouldering, I will too.” You smile when he hugs you tighter, nodding as he wipes away the tears threatening to spill from his ducts.

“And don’t call me Senpai. It makes me feel old.” You poke at his side, and he squirms, smiling and pushing your hand away.“You are old though.” He jokes, but you punch his arm, making him wince like a child and laugh.

“Alright, that’s enough comfort then. You don’t deserve it anymore.” You laugh with him, both of you walking back to the room where Nanami is. You’re unsurprised when you see Gojo-sensei in the same room. He did say he was going to regroup with you all at the end of the day. Yuji brightens up when you sees him, rushing to his side on the small sofa.

You follow with a smile, waving at Gojo as you approach the group, though you quickly realize there’s nowhere for you to sit now. The 2-seater sofa is occupied by Yuji and Gojo, and atop the only other chair in the room sits Nanami.

Gojo notices and makes a move to get up and offer his seat to you, but in a swift movement, you grab his arm to stop him, slotting yourself in his lap before he even has a chance to interject. He freezes. Nanami freezes. Your heart races, knowing this could either go very smoothly, or very badly. Though, to your surprise, Gojo simply clears his throat, relaxing back on the sofa as he turns his head to Nanami.

“So. Where were we?” He asks, as if nothing just happened. As if your perky little ass isn’t seated right on his crotch in front of another student and a coworker. He can’t let this get to him. Not in front of everyone. You’re just taking a seat. Nothing more, nothing less. It just so happens that your already-too-short skirt has ridden up enough for him to feel everything.

Nanami moves the topic quickly, continuing his explanation to Gojo about the events that occurred and the leads you were able to get today. You, on the other hand, are still not making it any easier for your poor sensei.

You absentmindedly tap your nails against the arm of the sofa, shifting in Gojo’s lap to get more comfortable. A particular shift from your hips causes his cock to twitch. He groans, disguising the noise with a cough. He gently places a hand on your upper hip, stilling your movements with a deep breath as he tries for the life of him to focus on anything but the warmth emanating from between your plush thighs. ‘Naked Gakuganji, Naked Gakuganji…’ He repeats in his own head like a mantra.

He talks back and forth with Nanami, discussing the next steps in tracking down the patch-face curse, you couldn’t be bothered to listen, knowing it’ll all get simplified in an email later on anyways. You must have been pretty zoned out because a tap on your hip snaps you back to reality.

The reality where Nanami is staring you dead in the eyes as he speaks, with anything but a gentle tone, “...As as I was saying. Will you and Itadori-kun excuse us for a minute? I need to have a word with Gojo-san. Alone.” He emphasizes the last few words, making it clear he wants the two of you gone, now.

You nod and stand up from Gojo-sensei’s lap, Yuji follows as the two of you walk to the door, Yuji waves to both of them with a sweet smile, and you turn your head back, saying goodbye as well, but only Gojo says it back.

There is a silence that fills the room once yourself and Yuji leave. Gojo is about to make some snarky comment when he gets sucker-punched in the face by Nanami’s question.

“So how long have you been fucking your student?” Nanami asks in a tone so sure it even makes Gojo doubt himself for a split second.

“What?” Gojo asks back, unable to process what just hit him.

“You heard me the first time.” Nanami states.

“Yeah and I'll also hear it if you told me you liked your job but that doesn’t make it true.” Gojo scoffs, running a hand through his hair as he realizes the absurdity of the question he's being faced with.

“You seriously have the nerve to be sarcastic when faced with a question like that?” Nanami's tone comes out a little more aggressively.

“Well you had the nerve to ask me that stupid question in the first place.” Gojo retorts, with a similar bite in his tone.

“Don’t take me for an idiot.” Nanami grits his teeth, removing his glasses to squint his eyes at the white haired man sitting in front of him.

“Hard not to when you’re accusing me of being a fucking pervert.” Gojo argues, clenching a fist on his thigh.

“Then do you care to explain to me the reason she acts so suggestively towards you?” Nanami asks, clearly trying to back his coworker into a corner.

“And what exactly is suggestive about the way she acts?” Gojo’s knuckles turn white from how hard he’s clenching.

“Leaning in to you, batting her eyelashes, licking her lips, the try-hard tone of voice she puts on only when you’re around-” Nanami starts to list off, before he’s interrupted by Gojo’s incredulous laughter.

“Yeah, just like every other young girl I speak to that tries to get my attention?” He retorts, shaking his head with a deep sigh. ‘ What the fuck is Nanami’s problem? ’ He thinks.

“Don’t flatter yourself too much.” Nanami rolls his eyes, fed up.

“It’s not flattery, it’s fact.” Gojo states blankly, having had enough of this conversation,

“She sat in your lap.” Nanami poses, certain he can’t deflect this argument.

“There was nowhere else to sit. If it was so ‘suggestive’ do you think she would have done it with others around?” Gojo defends, “Maybe you’re the perverted one here for seeing it that way.” He spits out, bringing a deep furrow to Nanami’s eyebrows.

“What the hell are you saying?!” Nanami growls, raising his voice.

“I’m saying, no girl is immune to the effects of my charm.” Gojo shrugs, as casual as ever, as if he’s not having one of the most absurd conversations in his life.

“Quit fucking around, Gojo.” Nanami sighs, straightening up in his chair.

“You see, Nanami, this is actually what it’s like when a girl has a crush on you. Not that I expect someone like you to know about that.” Gojo states, laughing in his coworkers face, but faltering for a moment. ‘Wait, Crush? Why would I say that?’ He thinks.

Nanami simply stands up, having heard enough of Gojo’s shit. This conversation was going nowhere, not when the man before him is deflecting like he’s born to do so.

“You’re full of shit, Gojo, and you know it.” Nanami states, walking towards the door without bidding a second look. “Yeah, well…you’re not even a fart!” Gojo shouts at his frame as it disappears past the door and into the hallway.

He sinks back on the sofa, sighing deeply as he tries to digest everything that happened to him today. Surely none of it was obvious, right? You aren’t doing anything wrong. You’re just a sweet girl who happens to be the object of his twisted desires. Maybe Nanami sees through that, in that case he just needs to up his masking game, something he’s more than used to already.

But it still isn’t an excuse for the man to just throw baseless accusations like that. It’s disrespectful to him, and also to you.

Anyone could tell those were bullshit claims, anyways. Though, it does cross his mind that everything you seem to be doing is exactly what he was used to from girls that wanted him in the past. The thought grows in a way he really doesn’t want it to. Those girls were always his age. It makes no sense that an innocent girl like you would intentionally act that way with a teacher. Right?

Well..Unless you do have a crush on him, he thinks..Then it hits him. The lollipop sharing. The staring. The physical contact. It all starts to click.

“Shit.” He mutters, throwing his head into the palm of his hands.

You have a crush on him.

[wrencatte]

I'm suddenly fond of the idea of Duke calling Jason "big red"

“Can I take him?” Duke asks quietly, hands out, palms up. “We have supplies back home.”

She shuffles to the side, but still in front of Jason defensively. Jason swings out a hand, grabs the hem of her sweater and silently tugs on it. She glances at him for a long time, as if searching for something, before she finally sighs and steps away from the bed to give Duke room.

“Got him to stop bleedin’,” she says quietly. “But he’ll need stitches and whatnot. I don’t got that on hand here.”

“You did great,” Duke says earnestly – then worries he’s sounding patronizing, but all she does is droop and move to drag a hand over her face before she remembers there’s blood on it.

“Only because it’s you,” she says instead. She gently uncurls Jason’s grip from her sweater, lets her hold linger before she just as gently sets his limp hand over his other. His head lolls, looking up at her, and Duke swallows thickly. “Take care of him.”

That sounds like a threat more than anything else – and Duke glances at the hoodless, domino-less Red Hood, the blood flecking his face, the way he can’t quite lift his head. He presses his lips together and nods sharply.

“Of course.”

Duke moves in, hooking an arm under Jason’s, holding onto his belt as he works to heave him up. Jason wraps an arm around his shoulders, his grip weak on his armor, but he’s at least trying to help. But really, it’s Duke’s augmented strength that’s going most of the work.

“C’mon, big Red,” Duke murmurs. “Let’s getcha home.”

Jason whines quietly – he’s been distressingly quiet this entire time and Duke has to swallow again, his eyes burning.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just a little longer, ‘kay?”

The kid hovers on the sidelines as Duke carefully walks Jason out – well, ‘walk’ being a nice way of describing the slow stop and shuffle they’re actually doing. It takes a couple seconds for Jason to get his feet under him on every step and Duke really doesn’t want to drag him so even though it pains him to move at a snail’s pace, that’s what they’re doing. Moving at Jason’s pace.

“Is he gonna be okay?” the kid asks.

Duke smiles at them. “Of course. He’s Red Hood.”

That makes something spark in their eyes and they nod decisively. “Right. Right. Yeah.” They smile, small and just shy of bright. It reminds him of a smile Jason does when he thinks no one's looking. “Keep us, uh, keep us updated?”

“You got his helmet?” Duke asks. The kid’s eyes flicker to the corner where Duke spots a flash of red half-hidden by a blanket. Smart. “Nice. He’ll come pick it up when he’s better. So, keep it safe.”

They square their shoulders, standing up straight. “You can count on it!”

#my writing #duke thomas #jason todd #crime alley loves red hood

[warmaidensrevenge]

Always seen you

Pairings: Eddie x Insecure!Fem plus size reader x friend!Elio

If you want to read my other work you can find it HERE

A/N: Hey my loves. Welcome back to my series that got away from me. This is the 22nd part to this. If you would like to catch up. Feel free to click the link above. I updated after most posts. So what's new? Welp I felt like a cute angsty part. Nothing too bad. Just a little jealousy. No Billy in this one. Anywho, I was inspired by a few songs so hopefully you guys can take the time to listen to what helped me write this. I also used a Killswitch Engage song for some lyrics. Thanks for reading. As always feedback is greatly appreciated. Asks and comments are always welcomed. Kay love ya bye.

Warnings: 18+ Language, angst, fluff, sexual implications/ situations, smoking, slight body insecurities, masturbation (f ), oral (f receiving), slow burn and kinda proof read.

Word count: 9,261

I do not give permission for my work to be used on any other site. Respect all creators/writers. Thanks.

Summary: Does it say more about me or you, if i told you that I am still here waiting to do all the things we said we would do? Is there hope that one day, you will be ready?

Part 22

🥺💓

Eddie just got off the plane and was heading to the address you gave him. You didn't know he was coming. That's exactly what he wanted. To just show up and give you flowers. To remind you that he would always show up if you asked or if you needed him to.

It was pretty late when the cab finally dropped him off. He walked up the little pathway through the trees and stopped when he saw you sitting on the balcony. You were nose deep in a book with your legs perched up on the guard. The soft light from the room behind you, looked like God was shining a light on Eddie's heart.

He put down his luggage and took a few steps closer. He heard some music coming from the small radio somewhere near the door. He smiled to himself when he heard you hum to his new album.

He wanted to just say hi. But he had a thought. To make you laugh.

"But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?" Eddie stepped closer putting his hand on his heart. " It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she."

When you heard him the smile that creeped on you was nothing more than pure unadulterated happiness. You closed your book and stood up. Putting your hands on the railing looking off into the distance as Eddie continued.

"Be not her maid, since she is envious; Her vestal livery is but sick and green. And none but fools do wear it; cast it off. It is my lady, O, it is my love! O, that she knew she were! She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that? Her eye discourses; I will answer it. I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks: Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes. To twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head? The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven. Would through the airy region stream so bright. That birds would sing and think it were not night."

You rested your cheek in your hand anticipation for Eddie's next line. Eddie was grinning like crazy seeing you play along.

"See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek!"

You pressed your lips to hold back a laugh. You took a calming breath as you got ready to say your lines.

"Ay me!" You sighed.

Eddie smiled "She speaks: O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head. As is a winged messenger of heaven. Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes. Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him. When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds. And sails upon the bosom of the air."

You tugged on your lip. "O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet."

Eddie opened his mouth to speak when Elio came out and ruined the scene you and he started.

" Hi Eddie."

He chuckled. " Hey man."

You finally looked down and Eddie was all smiles.

" You came."

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck. " Always."

Elio shook his head. " You guys such dorks. I'll be right down."

Eddie looked around for a second. " Nah man. I'm coming up."

You watched and giggled seeing Eddie shimmy up a drain pipe. Once he was close to the balcony he jumped over the guard.

You put your hand on your wide hip. " I swear you are so dramatic."

Eddie gave you a little bow.

You sighed and went towards him. " Same ol' Eddie Munson. As charming as ever."

He stood back up and smirked. " Missed you Angel."

You looked down at the ground and blushed.

Eddie chuckled so damn pleased with himself. He reached for your chin. Lifting it a little so he could look at you.

" Hi."

A small laugh left you. " Hi."

Eddie then pulled you into his arms. Holding you tightly as you hung onto him. Rocking you from side to side. You laughed again.

" Surprised?"

A muffled yes came from you.

" Good. I uhh brought you flowers but I couldn't carry them up."

You pulled away a little. " That's okay. Give them to me later."

After that you buried your face back into his chest. Eddie moved one of his hands and held the back of your head. Putting his cheek on your crown.

" Alright you two. That's enough. Let's go to bed. We have plans for tomorrow."

You pulled out of Eddie's embrace but you didn't go far. You put your small, warm, soft hand in his large rough one and pulled him along.

Elio went downstairs to grab his stuff.

Eddie let you lead the way to a small room. Just a door away from yours.

" I'm not gonna stay with you?" He asked.

" No. E's parental units are very religious. And they think he and I are dating."

" What?!" Eddie blurted

You stopped mid stride. Turning around and put your hand over his mouth." Shhhh! They don't know E's-"

Eddie cut you off by grabbing your wrist. He kissed the palm of your hand. Causing you to blush yet again.

He let go of your wrist and touched your face with the back of his hand.

" So beautiful Angel."

" No you."

He laughed.

" Common." You said pulling at him again.

You pulled him through a room then stopped at a door. You reached for the handle but Eddie grabbed it and opened it for you.

" M'lady."

You grinned. " You're too much Munson."

"Soooo… what do they know about me?" Eddie whispered, following you into the room.

You let go of his hand and went to turn on a lamp. " They think you're my distance cousin."

" Right…"

Eddie watched you sit down on the bed and patted the spot next to you. He sat down and you put your head on his shoulder.

" You really surprised me Eds."

Eddie leaned his head on yours. " I hope it wasn't too much."

He felt your head shake a little.

" It was perfect."

He grinned. " Good."

Elio came in with the bags and Eddie got up to help him.

" Thanks man."

" No problem. Are you hungry?" Elio asked.

Eddie shook his head. " I'm kinda just want to showered and lay down."

" Yeah okay. You and I are gonna share a bathroom. And the only way out of this room is either through the way you came in or out the window. So no sneaking off to y/ns room."

Eddie chuckled. " Don't want to get you in trouble."

" Common E. Let Eddie gets some sleep."

Eddie's eyes followed you asyou got up. You grabbed his hand and gave it a little squeeze.

" Goodnight Eds."

" Night Angel."

As much as you wanted to sleep with him. You know you couldn't.

Take things slow. You said it over and over like a mantra.

You let go of Eddie's hand and went to grab Elio's.

" Angel?"

" Hmm?" You turned back around and smiled softly.

Eddie was standing there with the flowers.

You took them and smelled them." Thank you Eds."

" You're welcome Angel."

Eddie watched you turn and walk away. Closing the door behind you.

He got ready for bed. But before he laid down he wanted to smoke real fast. He opened the window and lit one. He took a couple of puffs before he heard humming. He stuck his head out and you were sitting back on the balcony.

He listened and figured out what you were humming. He tossed the cigarette and started to sing.

🎵

And baby it's true

You're the one

Who caught me, baby you taught me

How good it could be

Fill your days and your nights

No need to ever ask me twice, oh no

Whenever you want me

And if ever comes a day

When you should turn and walk away, oh no

I can't live without you

So caught up in you

🎵

You turned to looked at him and smiled such a beautiful smile. He swore he saw a goddess smiling at him.

You guys finished the song together and just stared at each other for a minute. Both wanting to be in the other's arms. Both wanting to kiss and make bitter sweet love to each other.

You were the first one to break eye contact.

" Get some sleep Munson. I'll see you in the morning."

" Promise?"

You gave him a small laugh and held out your pinky.

Eddie climbed out of the window just a bit and sat on the ledge while you leaned as far as you could over the railing. Finally close enough you guys hooked each other pinky.

" Now get back in there before you fall."

Eddie nodded and let go of your hand.

" Night Angel."

" Night Eds."

…

The early morning ritual had just began. This time you started to draw Eddie. The way he looked last night was embedded in your brain. He had shaved and he had his hair in a loose bun. He looked so good. So…sexy. You squeezed your thighs together thinking about his soft full lips against your palm. You closed your eyes, dropped your sketchbook and let your head fall back. Feeling his solid frame holding you. His wonderful scent surrounding you again. Your legs fell apart as you pictured the night you spent with him. His tongue lapping between your folds. His thick long cock slowly entering-

" Morning Angel."

You jumped to sit up straight and opened your eyes so wide. You looked over and Eddie was leaning out the window with a huge smirk.

You cleared your throat completely embarrassed. Had he been watching you the whole time?

Fuck!

" Uhhh morning."

Eddie chuckled. He definitely did see you. He saw you rubbing your hand up and down your thigh. Every time getting just a little closer to the treasure between your legs.

" Can I come over?" He asked

" Umm yeah…okay."

Eddie was on the balcony in just a matter of seconds. You had already picked up your sketchbook and turned the page so he couldn't see what you were drawing.

He leaned against the guard right in front of you and had a shit eating grin.

" What were we doing?"

You couldn't help but feel ashamed and very nervous.

" Ummm. N-nothing."

Eddie laughed to himself and went to squat in front of you. His large hands ran up and down your plush thighs.

When your eyes met, your body trembled. You tugged at your bottom lip and his hands went higher.

" What're you thinking Angel?"

Fuck fuck fuck.

" I umm…are you hungry?"

Eddie nodded. He was very hungry. But not for food.

He grabbed your book and set it gently on the ground. After he spread your legs apart. Just as he was about to touch you there you grabbed his hand.

" Eds…umm friends don't do this."

" No…but we do."

Your breath hitched and you could feel your core throb so hard. It was almost painful. You let go of his hand and he touched your clothed warmth. Your head fell back once again and softly moaned.

Eddie was just about to pull down your shorts when Elio called out.

" Breakfast guys."

You sat back up and snapped your knees together. Trapping Eddie's hand.

Thank God!

" Saved by the bell." Eddie sighed, slipping his hand away when you finally let go and stood up.

Eddie watched you grab your coffee and book. Following you out to the kitchen. He smirked to himself watching you wide hips sway. He definitely was going to taste you tonight.

…

After breakfast you guys headed to Venice. It was quite a long trip but it was worth seeing such a beautiful place. You guys found yourselves in a water taxi. Eddie sat next to you the whole time with his hand on the small of your back. Elio of course had already been there so he just laid down and took a nap.

" You look very beautiful today Angel."

You looked at Eddie. " Thank you. "

He leaned in so that he could whisper in your ear.

" Can we finish what we started this morning?"

You swallowed gently. " Umm Eddie. I-"

The guide started to sing. When you looked back the guy driving the boat was smiling at you and Eddie. You listened for a bit and gave him a sweet smile. You turned to look at Eddie.

"I don't care about the moon

I don't care about the start

You for me are the moon and the stars

You for me are the sun and the sky

You for me are everything

All that i want to have

Never ending

Never ending"

" That's beautiful." Eddie said, pulling you closer. " When did you learn Italian?"

" Umm taught myself in like 8th grade."

" I didn't know that."

" There's a lot we don't know about each other. "

Eddie frowned. " I'm sorry."

" Don't be." You whispered, raising your brows. " Keeps the mystery alive."

You put your head on his shoulder.

" I want to know everything about you Angel."

You smiled again. " I would like to know everything about you too."

Just take things slow.

You guys went to lunch after the boat ride, planning on the next activity.

" A museum? Aww common Angel. We're on vacation." Eddie whined.

" Eds. When are you ever gonna do this again? It's going to be fun. I picked the perfect place."

" Maybe for you two." Elio chimed in. " I'm gonna go to the market and see what's going on over there."

You looked at Eddie and pouted.

He shook his head and laughed. " Alright, but this better be cool."

You giggled. " Of course. Have I ever led you astray?"

"Hope it doesn't start now."

You gave him a playful push. " Don't worry. You're gonna love it."

" Alright kiddos, meet me in like two hours. Then we can all go to St. Mark's Basilica." Elio said getting up.

You nodded. "Okay. Hey, don't talk to strangers."

Elio grinned. " How else am I supposed to get a date?"

You let out a throaty laugh. " Okay but make sure to use protection."

Elio raised a brow. " Likewise."

Eddie threw his head back and chuckled.

You slapped his shoulder gently. " Stop it."

" Shit. Sorry. My bad. It's just-"

You covered his mouth. " Don't you dare."

Elio laughed too. " Okkkkayyy. See you two love birds later."

When Elio left you finally took your hand off Eddie's mouth.

" You are…. Too much."

Eddie grabbed at your plush tummy and started to tickle you. " Not too much I hope."

" Ahhh." You giggled. " No…don't"

You tried to push his hands away but he wouldn't let up. So you got up and started running away. And of course Eddie chased you.

" Get back here Angel. I promise I won't bite….unless you want me too."

" God Eddie." You laughed trying to keep out of his grasp.

You rounded a corner into an alley and hid. When Eddie came he skidded to a stop.

" What the hell? Angel?"

He took a few steps and you jumped out from where you were hiding.

" JESUS H!" He yelped, grabbing your arms.

You were in a fit of giggles. " Got you Munson."

Eddie grinned and shook his head. " I'm totally gonna get you back."

There was a moment when your laughing faded and Eddie slowly pushed you up against the brick wall.

He let go of your arms and put his hand flat on the wall behind you. One arm on either side of your head. He felt your hands on his narrow hips, slightly pulling him closer.

Eddie looked down at you. His tongue shot out to lick his lips.

" I really want to kiss you."

Your mouth parted and you took a small breath in. You wanted that too.

" Can I?"

You hesitated for a second. But nodded.

He was just about to kiss you when someone in the window just off the side threw some water out. Splashing you and Eddie shoes.

You did a little hop and jumped into his arms. Both of you laughed again.

" Maybe later then?"

You smiled. " Maybe."

You pulled away and grabbed his hand. " C'mon Munson. We don't want to be late for our tour."

…

You guys were standing outside this big cobblestone building with a sign above.

Museo Della Tortura

" What does it say Angel?"

You beamed at him. " Museum of torture."

" What?! Okay… that's cool as hell."

" I told you you'll like it. They even have an Iron Maiden."

" Seriously?"

" Yup."

" Well what are we waiting for?"

Eddie opened the door for you. " M'lady."

" Thank you Ser Munson."

Eddie was in aww. You really did pick a cool place. You guys took so many pictures. Eddie wanted to get in the Iron Maiden so he stepped over the velvet rope and you quickly snapped away.

" Let's go. Before we get in trouble." You said holding out your hand.

" What? Don't you want to get arrested in international waters? " Eddie joked.

" No thank you. I kinda want to be able to come back here."

Eddie took your hand and grinned. " With me?"

" Hmmm not if you're gonna get me in trouble."

Eddie grabbed his heart. " I wouldn't dream of it Angel."

You guys continued with the tour until you found yourself heading towards another roped off area.

" It says roof access." You answered Eddie's question before he could ask.

" Care to take a gander?"

You looked around to see if anyone's watching.

"It might be a gorgeous view." Eddie tried to convince you.

" Okay. Hurry."

Eddie grabbed the rope and hooked it for you. He followed you up and found something to prop the door open.

He watched you go to the edge or the building and looked around. The slight breeze blew your hair back making you look like a damn Angel.

" Doesn't it make you wanna cry?"

Eddie looked out to the city. It really was beautiful. But what made it even more so was that you were there. He put an arm around your waist and you rested your head on his shoulder.

" I'm really glad you came Eds."

" Me too Angel."

…

The bus ride home was quiet. You had fallen asleep with your head on the window. You didn't look comfortable at all, so Eddie lifted the arm rest and pulled you into his arms. You let out a little sigh and subconsciously got closer. Snuggling into his neck. Wrapping your arms around him.

He kissed your forehead and leaned his head back.

" You guys are really good together."

Eddie looked at Elio and gave him a half smile.

He then took a look at you." Thanks man."

" For?"

" For letting me come. For letting me stay…for taking care of my girl. Just thanks…for everything."

Elio gave him a thin lip smile. " I'm sorry I didn't give her your messages. I just didn't want her to hurt anymore."

" It's okay. I get it. But I'm not gonna hurt her ever again. And I'm not just gonna say it. I'm gonna show her."

Elio nodded and looked at you. " I hope so."

" I will."

Finally at the house Eddie woke you gently.

" Common Angel. We're here."

You looked at him behind heavy lids. " Okay."

He helped you up and led you inside. Everyone showered and washed the hot summer day away.

Eddie and Elio were in the kitchen snacking on stuff when you came out to grab peach and some water.

" So what's the plan?" Eddie asked, pulling his stool closer to yours.

" Well I have a date and my parents are visiting some relatives. So besides the maid. Who is sleeping right about now." Elio looked at his watch. "You guys have the place to yourselves."

You yawned and nodded. " Oh-kay. Are you coming back?"

Eddie put his arm on the back of your chair looking back and forth between you and Elio.

" Probably not until the early morning. "

You yawned again. " Oh-okay. Be careful."

Elio winked at Eddie." You too."

Eddie smirked looking at you. You must have been too tired to catch that.

After Elio left you sighed looking at your peach.

" Want to go to bed Angel?"

" Umm it's still early."

" That's okay. You can sleep if you want."

" No Eds. I'm not gonna sleep away our time together."

He tucked your damp hair behind your ear. " I can sleep with you."

You looked at him and gave him a sweet smile. "How about you come and sit on the balcony with me. It's a nice night. We can play cards or something."

" Whatever you want, Angel."

You got up and he followed.

Eddie sat down outside while you went to find something for you two to do. Even though there was only one thing on your mind.

Friends first girl. Friends first.

When you went outside Eddie smiled at you. You sat down opposite from him and started shuffling and dealing out the cards.

" Ok Munson. This is war."

Eddie leaned over and grabbed his cards. " Oh shit. Okay. Let's do this."

After a few games you were wide awake now. Eddie was being a big cheater. But you didn't care. It was nice spending alone time with him. You hadn't laughed so much in such a long time. And you were glad that Eddie could still do that for you.

However, the thought of Billy crossed your mind. You had to tell Eddie. You needed to be honest with him. He had come all this way. And he's been trying to kiss you and touch you. You couldn't let him do that. Not until he knew the truth. Maybe he would be fine. Or maybe he would be so angry that he left. Hoping for the first, you cleared your throat and put your cards down.

" Eddie?"

" Yeah Angel."

You couldn't look at him. You felt so damn guilty. But you had to. You forced yourself to look at him.

" I have to tell you something…and I don't think you'll like it."

Eddie grabbed your hand. " What is it?"

You looked at your hand in his and prayed to the god that he doesn't hate you after.

You took a second trying to find the right words. But when you felt the tension you just blurted out.

"Billy and I have feelings for each other."

Eddie flexed his jaw and furrowed his brow. But he didn't let go of your hand.

For...for how long?"

You kept your eyes on your hands. " For me…I think it was after the concert…and umm…a few days after my birthday he kissed me."

Eddie squeezed your hand for a second but then loosened it. Still not letting go.

" Does he know that you and I…"

" Y-yes."

Eddie sighed. " And he still kissed you?"

You nodded.

Eddie was filled with all types of feelings. He was angry yet sad. He was jealous but worried. Happy that you were being honest, still upset. There was one question he needed to ask. Though the answer was going to break his heart. He needed to know.

" Did you kiss him back?"

Tears filled your eyes. Know that your answer was going to drive you and Eddie apart. That wasn't something you wanted. A part of you wanted to lie. To say you pushed him away. But Eddie didn't deserve that. He deserved the truth. The whole truth. The truth about Billy, the truth about why you broke things off, and why you even got close to Billy in the first place. He needed to know that even though you had feelings for Billy, that they were nothing compared to how you felt for him. How you've always felt.

" I did."

Eddie squeezed your hand again and looked away. But this time you squeezed back.

" Eddie. I liked the kiss. And I liked being wanted. But that doesn't change how I feel about you. If anything it opened my eyes."

You both loosened your grip.

" Why am I here y/n?"

You lip quivered hearing your name that sounded so foreign coming out of him.

" Because you're the one I wanted here. You're the one I want to be in this place with."

Eddie felt better. But he was still upset. " Why?"

You hesitated for a second. "Please…please look at me."

Eddie met your gaze with tears in his eyes. He blinked them away and saw that you were already crying.

" Because Eddie. I want you. I want you so bad that it hurts. I never wanted anyone as much as I want you. But I can't lose myself again. I can't…I won't."

Eddie reached over to catch your tears. His hand cupping your face felt so good that it made you cry a little harder.

" When I got to the hotel and ended things, I wasn't completely honest with you. I should have said that the kiss broke me. I should have said that all I needed was time to put myself back together. But I lied. I didn't have feelings for someone else. Back then, I wouldn't dream of looking at anyone the way I looked at you."

Eddie scooted closer.

" Billy was there for me. And he was there after the concert…for weeks he was by my side. Comforting me and holding me while I cried for you. He was there as I mourned for our relationship. He never tried anything or got physical…he was just there. And I wish he wasn't. God Eddie, I wish it was Elio or my brother. But it wasn't. It was him. He helped me find myself again. And I love him for that… I'm thankful for it. Now…now I'm good. I'm better. I'm happy."

" What does that mean for us?"

" It means I want to be your friend. I want to take things slow. We rushed everything before. We wanted each other so bad that we didn't think about what being apart would do to us. And it broke us. It pulled us away from each other and did a lot of damage…I know how I want this to end. And I think it's the same for you."

" It is."

You gave him a half hearted smile. " I think we just need to give it time. Build up the relationship again. Learn how to be around each other again. Like before we got together…I know we can't do movie nights like before. Or spend time with one another like we used to. But I want this to work this time. I want this to be it for us. I want it to finally be right. Because Eddie, I want to fix what went wrong. I would rather work on us than to do this all over again with someone else. I want…you….just you."

Eddie closed his eyes and finally let his tears fall. That's all he had been wanting to hear since the day in the hotel. He wished so hard, prayed every night for it. Now it was going to happen. The time had finally come that he could try this again.

He felt your hand on his cheek wiping away his tears. He brought your hand that he was holding to his lips. When he looked at you again he gave you a small smile.

" Angel, we'll do whatever you want. Whatever you need from me, I'll do it. If you want me to hold you. I will. If you just want to sit and talk, we will. Whatever you say, I'll listen. Whenever you need me, I'm here. For us…for you."

You stood up and pulled him to his feet. " Let's go to bed."

Eddie held you all night. There was nothing else to say right now. Both of you need this trip. Needed this night to just be. So many nights spent without each other was torture. But right now. The way his body felt next to yours. And yours next to his was everything. As you fell asleep you held him tighter. Breathing him in.

When Eddie finally heard your soft moans he kissed your forehead.

" We're gonna make it baby. No one and nothing is going to stop us now."

…

The next few days were spent just like the first. Hanging out enjoying the beautiful weather and each other's presence. With little moments that happened often. The ones where Eddie would get close. The ones where a hug lasted just a little longer every time. The moments where even though you guys were just friends, somehow always finding ways to touch each other. Sometimes it would just be a hand on the small of your back. Or shoulders touching while you walked. It was a small amount of touching. But it was perfect. The best ones were when you would be sitting outside, chairs pulled as close as they could be listening to music. The backs of your hands would touch. Fingers would caress one another's. It got to the point where it happened without a second thought. You didn't know you were doing it. But Eddie's heart filled every time it happened. You were happy and content how things were. And that's all he could ever ask for.

Two days before Eddie was going to go back to the states, you guys all went out to a fancy dinner then dancing after. You had bought a new light blue green dress. With brand new matching 3 inch heels. All of you guys got dressed to the nines for this incredibly fancy restaurant. Elio looked amazing in his suit. Especially since he started growing his hair out. However, he had nothing on what Eddie emerged from the bathroom in.

Your eyes started from the bottom up.

He had the black matte dress shoes. Tied tight with a perfect bow. His slacks were slim fit. But they weren't too tight. Well only where it counted. His bulge was slightly showing. When he turned to put on his chain wallet you caught a glimpse of he perfect little ass. These pants hug it just right, making your core tremble. You continued checking him out. His silver belt buckle stood out against his black on black outfit. His button up shirt was tickled in and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. The silver of his rings nearly matching his belt. Your mouth parted seeing a few of the top buttons of his shirt were loose. Showing off a little of his chest hair. It was open just enough to catch a glimpse of one of his tattoos. You tugged at your bottom lip as your eyes went up to his thick long neck, that still had his silver balled necklace and pic. Finally your eyes settled on his face. His hair was in a low bun, that was held up by your stolen scrunchie. With trendles of curls that were too short to reach the tie, framing his beautiful face. He was utterly and completely stunning.

When Eddie finally was ready he caught you staring at him. When his eyes met yours you quickly looked away and blushed like a tomato. He chuckled to himself. So happy that he got the outfit just for you. Just for tonight. Sure Elio was going to be joining you two for dinner but it didn't matter to him. He was happy to finally do something he'd been wanting to do since your first visit in LA. Take you out on a proper date. Though it wasn't one. He chose to believe it was.

You cleared your throat. " Ready guys?"

Elio clapped his knees and stood up. " Let's go. I'm starving."

You looked at Eddie and he gave you such a gorgeous smile. Showing you all his laugh lines. You smiled back just as big and then this guy did something that had you weak in the knees. The fucker winked at you. You felt your knees buckle and you were trying to grab something to catch yourself but Eddie was right there. Holding you in his arms.

You were so embarrassed that you couldn't look him in the eye. You stared at his necklace and put a hand on his chest. The heat of his skin felt good. Too good.

" You okay Angel."

" Umm y-yeah. Just ummm a little dizzy. Need some food."

He smirked and put a hand on the back of your head while leaning in so that he could whisper in your ear. "Liar."

You playful pushed him away. " Eddieeee. Stop it."

He laughed, holding you firmly to his chest. " You look beautiful Angel."

You finally hugged him back. " No you."

Eddie leaned so that your faces were only inches away.

There was another moment. Eddie bore into your eyes so deep that you felt like his soul was looking at yours.

Elio cleared his throat. " Guys seriously. Come on. If my parents catch you. I'm so dead. And so are you."

Eddie chuckled and let you go.

…

" Cobblestone and high heels do not mix."

Elio shook his head. " I told you Hun."

" Well now I'll listen to you from now on."

You guys were walking back to the house after a super great night. Dancing the night away with Eddie and Elio was a perfect way to spend Eddie's last few nights. But now the pathway was kicking your ass. You tried to watch where you were going. But by now you've twisted your ankle about 3 times. Eddie had a firm hold on your waist just in case you wouldn't fall.

" Walking like bambi Angel." Eddie teased.

You twisted your ankle again and yelped.

" That's it I'm going barefoot!"

You stopped walking and leaned on Eddie so you could take your shoes off. But Eddie had a different idea.

"Hop on my back. I'll give you a piggyback ride."

You looked up at him." Seriously? No. I'm wearing a dress. Plus, I'll squash you."

Eddie grabbed your hip and dug his fingers in. Not too hard but hard enough to get you to see what he was about to say seriously.

" Y/n I swear to God. If you keep saying shit like that…." He leaned in and whispered in your ear. Grabbing your neck loosely with his free hand. " I'll take off my belt and spank you."

Oh shit!

Instead of giving him any indication that what he said really turned you the fuck on. You decide to play his game.

" I would say you can spank and choke me whenever you want. But.." you leaned in closer to his face, feeling his grip on your neck tighten. " Friends don't do that."

Eddie hung his head and dropped his hand. You had made him so God damn hard he could have fucked you right then and there. But he liked this little game. So he decided to keep it up.

" You're being naughty Angel…I like it…keep talking like that…." He looked at you pulling your hips to his. Pushing his erection against your tummy. " And I'll fuck you so hard, that all of Italy will know my name."

You pushed back harder. Moving his bangs so that you can see his face better. " Then I better be good then….or…" you move your face so close that your lips were almost touching. " Maybe I'll just be a little brat."

You moved to kiss his cheek and pulled away.

Eddie sighed. You were so fucking hot when you acted like this.

You started to walk away but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his arms again. This time lifting you up. Carrying you bridal style.

" Eddieee!"

" Shhh Angel…you're not heavy."

You blushed and looked away. Letting him carry you until you were finally at the front door. Elio smirked at you two.

" If you guys have sex tonight. You better be quiet."

" E!!"

Elio laughed. " I'm just saying."

Eddie gave you a smirk. " I can't promise anything."

" Edward Eugene Munson!"

Eddie winced as he put you down. " Ahhh. Okay. Okay. I'm sorry."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. Elio opened the door for you and you walked in.

" Friends don't have sex E." You said, glancing back at Eddie.

Eddie frowned while Elio nudged you.

" Sometimes they do."

You rolled your eyes again and stomped off to your room.

You sat on the bed trying to get a hold of yourself.

Why did I do that? We're supposed to be going slow.

You have been so good these past few days. But fucking Eddie Munson made it so hard to not want him.

Maybe just this one time you could.

No!

You sighed, taking off your shoes. You grabbed your pajama shirt and went to take a bath. As you laid there you started caressing your thighs and softly massaged your breasts. Imagining Eddie's big rough hands touching you. You dipped your hand down and started rubbing gentle circles around your hardened nub. Your head fell back slowly and you moaned softly as you pinched your nipple.

" Eddie." You sighed.

You added more pressure and fluttered your finger towards your entrance. Spreading your slick back up towards your clit. This time rubbing a little faster and with more pressure.

Breathy sighs fell out when your mouth parted.

" Mmm Ed's…I want you so bad." You whispered.

Sliding your fingers inside felt okay. But only one set of hands would make it feel incredible.

You repeat his name over and over again to yourself. With your hips bucking as you dug deeper into yourself.

The small knot in your tummy got tighter the closer you got to your release. You sucked on your bottom lip pulling at your nipple, picture Eddie tugging it with his teeth. Then what sent you over the edge was hearing him say. 'That's it. That's my good girl…just like that…cum for me.'

After your orgasm you felt a little better. Feeling like you could finally think clearly. By the time you actually got out your fingers and toes were all pruny. You wrapped your hair up and pulled on your shirt and panties. When you walked to your room you turned on the radio and went outside. With your eyes closed you raised your arms and stretch your slightly sore muscles stepping over the threshold. Suddenly you felt a warm rough hand trailing up the back of your thigh over your ass. You looked over and Eddie was sitting there with his hair down and just in pajama bottoms. His eyes were focused on your bottom and he gave it a little tap then grabbed it.

" Fuckin' love your ass."

You dropped your arms and started running your nails up his bicep, then down just past his elbow. Going back up again.

Eddie stood up and faced you. Still with a firm grip on your bottom, he leaned closer.

" You know what else of yours I love?"

You gulped. Guessing the whole 'taking it slow' is off the table. Not that you could complain right now.

" Hmmm?"

He let go of ass and moved around you. Dragging his hand across your soft tummy until he was behind you.

When you came out and stretched, Eddie knew you had been a bad girl. You only stretched like that when your body got stiff when you came. He also sensed the calmness that you got after. And he was jealous. He wanted to be the one who made you cum.

So he decided that even though your beautiful hands made you cum once. He was going to make you cum on his tongue. Then on his cock.

When he was finally settled behind you he bent his knees a little and ran his hands up from the back of your knees to the front of your thighs.

" I love these thighs…so soft and thick."

You dragged your teeth on your bottom lip and closed your eyes.

Eddie grinned when he felt your raised skin.

" I also love this belly."

His hands went under your shirt. Digging his fingers into your puggy flesh.

His hands went back down and he pulled at your hips so that he could press himself on you.

" I love your back."

His hand went from your hips up your back. Then up to the back of your neck. You felt his soft lips press a gentle kiss there.

" And your neck. Mmmm. Love that."

Your core trembled as he went higher and pulled the towel off your head. Damp locks falling down.

Eddie dropped the towel and grabbed a fist full of your hair. Not pulling it. Just holding it close to your head.

" I love your hair and how it always smells so good."

You heard him breathe you in. Then suddenly he let go and grabbed your breast. Massaging them ever so gently.

" And these…fuck…I looove these."

You whimpered a little when he pinched your hardened buds.

Eddie moved his face so that his lips barely touched your earlobe.

" But my absolute favorite part of you…"

You gasped as he snaked one of his hands down between your legs. Pressing hard on your clothed bundle of nerves.

" This…god I love this…it's so perfect. I love the way it hugs my cock. I love how wet and a fuckin' warm it is."

Your body shivered at his touch. Core throbbing. Aching to be stretched and filled to the brim with his seed.

But Eddie was having too much fun with your body that you thought you would say what you loved about him.

You pulled away out of his grasp and turned around. Your fingers laced in his curls as his hands held onto your waist. You gently scratch his scalp making him dig his fingers into your flesh.

" I love your curls. It was like they were made to wrap around my fingers."

You freed one hand, cupping his jaw. Running your thumb across his lips.

" I adore these lips. And what comes out of them."

You lifted to your toes and kissed Eddie's favorite spot. Just below his jaw line. Then your fingers traced his tattoos. Cause goosebumps in their wake.

" Your ink is insane. I just love touching them…especially this one."

You moved to the one on his ribs. Your eyes catching Eddie's Adam's apple bob. His breath quickened when both hands were now on his narrow hips.

" Just love these….they fight perfectly between my legs."

Eddie groaned when you dragged your nails from the back to the middle. Touching his happy trail.

" Love this little patch."

Eddie softly chuckled while you played with it.

You stared the his chest. And the moment of teasing each other passed for you. Feeling a bit shy now. You moved away from the sexual stuff and went on about something more personal. Your hands when back up. One went for his hair again and the other laid flat over his heart. You looked up into his big brown eyes.

" But what I love the most is between these two." You lifted to your toes as Eddie put a hand on the small of your back and held your elbow. You pulled his head down gently and kissed his forehead.

" I love your mind. And how crazy and sweet it could be."

You planted your feet back on the ground and looked at your hand over his heart.

" And this…I truly love this. I love how big it is and how you put all of it into everything you do."

Eddie licked his lips. Your words made him swoon. No one has ever liked let alone loved all of him like you did. Well at least no one ever said it before. Or even said it out loud that he actually believed it. But here you were. Speaking as if it was the only truth you knew.

" Angel…I…" he sighed and started rubbing your shoulders. " I want to say I love you. And I want to take you into that room... I want to make love to you so bad….but…I want to do what you want to do. I don't want you to feel like that's all I want from you."

You pressed your lips together and started outlining his tattoo on his ribs again. You wanted all that too.

" I think we needed this trip Angel…I think…no I know that being here with you has been the best time of my life. You have been so sweet and just so damn perfect these few days. That I remembered why I fell in love with you in the first place."

" Eds…I want this." You move your hand from his curls over to his heart. " I want this forever. But as much as I want us to be together. We have to take our time."

" I know we do. But Angel, you have my heart. You've always had it. It's yours to do with whatever you want. If you just surrender yours to me again. I promise. I won't hurt you. Never again."

You pulled away and started for the room. That hurt him. He hated when you pulled away from him.

" Eds?"

He turned to look at you.

" You coming?"

He nodded and followed you into the room. He closed the balcony door while you went to light a candle and turned the radio a little louder. After you turned off the light and met him on the bed. You both sat in the middle of it and stared at each other. Eddie don't want to be the one to make the first move. Just in case you didn't want to go there with him yet. So he just sat there waiting.

For a second you thought to just lay with him. Like how you used to. But your need for him out ruled every thought of not doing this. You took off your shirt and looked down, placing your hands on your knees. Eddie reached for your chin and lifted it so you could look at him.

" You're so beautiful baby."

You sucked in a small breath. " Kiss me Eds."

He leaned in and gave your a sweet but quick kiss before he checked to see if you were okay.

" No. Kiss me like you mean it. Show me how much you-"

Eddie cut you off by getting to his knees and pulled you up to yours. He held you tightly by your hip and the back of your head. This kiss was absolutely beautiful. He never kissed you with such need and love. It made you whimper and hold onto him. He laid you down and still kissed you with such a passion. It made your skin rise again. He finally let up so you guys could breathe.

" Can I taste you?" He said into your mouth.

You bit your lip and nodded.

Eddie gave you one last kiss before making his way down your body. With your body quivering when he left a trail of moistened kiss across your chest. When he got down to your panties he placed a tender kiss on your mound. He laced his calloused fingers under the elastic and pulled them off. He brought them up to his nose after and took a big whiff.

" Mmmm. God you smell so good."

You brought your thumb to your mouth and chewed on your nail. Blushing at his words.

Eddie smiled at you and lifted your knees to a bend.

" So...so damn beautiful Angel."

He kissed your knees while spreading your legs apart. His big thick fingers ran through your slick folds.

" Oh look at you. So fuckin' wet." He cooed. " Such a perfect pussy."

"Mmm...It's yours."

He looked at you with a smirk. " Is it?"

" Uh huh...All yours. "

"Sh-shit...Yeah it's mine....all mine."

You moaned as quietly as you could as he laid his tongue flat on your cunt and slowly licked up to your clit.

" Fuuu…So...so sweet."

Your giggles made him look up.

" What?"

" Do I taste like peaches?"

Eddie chuckled before he lapped again. " Mmmm…actually yeah."

You giggled again. You were gonna say something else but covered your mouth to stifle your moans when he put his fingers into your aching warmth. He went painfully slow as he flicked his tongue on your hardened nub. sucking and massaging it. Your hips started to swivel but Eddie used his free hand to stop you.

" Eds?" You whimpered.

" I know baby. I know. But you have to be patient. I want to take my time with you."

You nodded and relaxed.

" That's it Angel. Let me take care of you."

You hummed softly as he sucked, licked, and pumped. Every hair stood up on your body when you felt the build deep in your core. Legs shaking, hands wrapped in his perfect hair. Close. You were close.

Eddie felt it and coaxed you further. He was like a starved man. Even when his jaw and neck started to hurt, he powered through it. He didn't care about the pain. All he wanted was to make sure you were feeling good.

45 minutes and 3 big orgasms later. You finally asked him to stop. When he pulled away he climbed up your body and put his full weight on you. Resting his head on your chest. Your fingertips ran up and down his back. While you stretched out your foot you felt a cold wet spot. You quickly pulled your leg back to a bend.

"Eds? Did you cum on the bed?"

He turned his head kissing your chest.

" Yeah I'm sorry. You just tasted so good and your little moans just got me."

" I wanted to do that."

He looked up at you. Pressing his growing erection against your thigh.

" Still can Angel."

You tugged at your lip." Can I be-"

You yelped as he rolled off of you pulling you on him.

He smirked. " Yeah. You can be on top."

You sat up and looked down at him. Eddie's mouth was slightly open as he massaged your breast. Lifting to your knees, you balanced yourself using his arms. Aligning his hardened length with your pulsating warmth.

Eddie pressed his lips together to stop a loud grunt from escaping when you lowered yourself.

The first thrust was always so incredible. Every inch of you was sensitive. Your head fell back as Eddie's tip worked its way through you.

Heaven was a place on earth and it was between your legs. Eddie was lucky enough to even get a taste of it. But now you were letting him have it. It felt like he didn't deserve the pleasure or the happiness you were blessing him with. Seeing you and feeling you was all he wanted since your birthday. Since the second he got off the plane. Now he was finally where he was supposed to be. Where he was always meant to be. With you.

Settled in his lap you looked at him. You wanted to say those three little words so bad. But being that you guys seemed to be friends with benefits right now. It really didn't seem right to say. Eddie noticed your slight withdrawal and sat up. While wrapping an arm around your waist, his free hand moved your hair behind your shoulder.

" What is it Angel?"

You looked at his lips and started playing with his curls.

" There was umm. A song on the new album. "

Eddie asked which one. Knowing exactly the one you were thinking.

" Always."

Eddie started to stroke your back. " Yeah?"

Your eyes met his. " I really liked it…you sounded genuinely sad…not that I-I like when you're sad or anything. I-." You hung your head and sighed feeling stupid. " I just thought it was really good."

" Y/n I was sad when I wrote it."

You met his eyes again. " Why?"

He gave you a quick soft kiss with both pairs of eyes still open. When he pulled away, he looked back and forth between your eyes.

" Because I wrote it for you."

" You did?"

Eddie was distracted for a split second when you started rolling your hips. His hands fell down to hold on to them.

" Y-yeah. Most of my songs are either about you. Or for you."

" But why were you sad about this one?"

Eddie tried to focus on your question. " I-I wanted you to know that…I'm with you…always. No matter what. Even when you don't want me."

You started rocking a little faster, searching not for your release. But for his. You wanted it more than anything right now. To be the one who made him feel good. The way he always made you feel. Not just during sex. But outside of it.

" Sing it to me?" You asked in a small unsure voice.

Eddie's breath picked up as you set a steady pace with your movements. He swallowed thickly and tried his best.

🎵

I am with you always

From the darkness of night until the morning

I am with you always

From life until death takes me

When hope seems lost down and lowly

I am here with you always.

🎵

You closed your eyes and met his forehead with yours. As he tried to sing the rest of the song, you felt a knot forming low in your belly.

His lyrics were pulling not only at your heartstrings but serenading your orgasm. Asking for it. Begging for it. And you wanted to give in. But you held back. For him.

Your little whimpers and sighs were amazing. And by the way your warmth clenched him made him choke up a bit while he still tried to sing. Then when you started to move slowly again, Eddie nearly exploded. He buried his face in your neck trying, praying so that he could hold it. To last longer than just a few minutes. He grunted and cursed.

Eddie felt your warm breath on his ear.

" Eds please. You have to be quiet. "

" Sh-shit. S-sorry. It's just…fuuuck."

You pushed him down against the mattress and captured his mouth with yours. His hands slithered down to your bottom. With a firm grip he lifted your ass up and let you drop back down. With him bucking his hips to go deeper.

You gasped into his mouth when you felt his head hit a sweet spot. Eddie lifted to kiss you this time. So that you could be quiet. He did that over and over again.

You pulled away from his lips and buried your face into his neck.

" Eds?" You said just above a whisper. " Please. Please cum. I want it"

He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned his cheek on your forehead.

" C-cum with me baby."

You nodded and let go. As you slowly came you sat up once more and put your palms on his chest. Using him to steady yourself as you kept up the little hop and rolling of your hips.

Feeling Eddie twitch inside you made you cum come harder. You closed your eyes and bit your lip rocking until you were just about spent. Eddie's body tensed as your warm velvet walls throbbed around him. Claiming every last drop of his release as your own.

Your body shook uncontrollably as you both finished. When you rolled off you were panting. Eddie draped his arm around your chest and snuggled up against you. Running your nails across his forearm you hummed.

Eddie smiled and kissed your shoulder.

Just before you fell asleep you heard Eddie whisper an I love you.

You wanted to say it back. Maybe you should have. But you weren't ready.

Not yet Ed's. But I do too....always

…

@chloe-6123 @irishhappiness @idkidknemore @hiscrimsonangel @hellv1ra @browneyes528 @b-irock @erinsingalong @salenorona23 @eddie-is-a-god @screaming-blue-bagel

#Spotify #fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x female original character #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie x reader #stranger things #eddie my beloved #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie series #eddie x plus size reader #eddie smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #plus size reader #always seen you series

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[Title] 7 Dates, 7 Conflicts [Rating & Genre] [M] 18+, strangers to lovers, slow burn, Collage AU [Pairing] Jeon Jungkook x Reader (Amaya Bradford) [Trigger Warnings] a few cuss words

[A/N] I'm baaacckkk~! I apologize for my absence, but I truly struggle with this whole social media and social interaction thing. I had to restructure this part because I've come to the realization that my brain doesn't quite know how to write multiple events into one part...

P.S the last bit is a mess but I'll update it soon...<3

ALSO HAPPY HUNTER DAAYYY!!

[Word Count] 2740

"This is an absolute colossal fucking disaster, Chenle," I hiss under my breath, pacing across my bedroom with my phone clutched tightly to my ear. On the other end, the low hum of my best friend's tired yawn slips through the line, the digital clock on my nightstand casting an ominous glow – 10:47 PM.

I roll my eyes, my frustration lacing into the very syllables of my words. "I mean, how on earth are we even supposed to tackle this if he's out there getting his dick sucked instead of meeting me to work on the assignment?" Veronica had given us a unique homework assignment during our last COMM101 class—a creative pair-building exercise intended to break the ice. It was supposed to be an opportunity for Jungkook and me to explore each other's perspectives and come up with something that was at least halfway decent. Yet, instead of paying even a sliver of attention, Jungkook seemed to be far more interested in sketching bizarre doodles across my meticulously taken lecture notes. Since that fateful Monday morning, I've embarked on a one-woman crusade to pin him down and get him to work on it. But every attempt I make is met with flimsy excuses and empty promises. He's always conveniently "busy" or "tied up with something else." And me? I'm not naive enough to swallow those slippery words whole, not when they spill from his slick, slithering tongue like a practiced dance. As the relentless ticking of the clock emphasizes the looming deadline for my not-so-friendly essay, the harsh reality sets in. I realize that I know next to nothing about this bumbling baboon, except for the fact that he can't seem to keep his... cock out of people's mouths. The idea of crafting an essay detailing his countless escapades with the campus coeds is tempting, but it also feels like a peculiar form of self-inflicted torture. I flop onto my bed, clutching my phone as if it's my only lifeline in this chaotic situation.

"Guess I'll just have to corner him tomorrow," I murmur to myself, feeling a potent mix of determination and resignation settle in my chest like a heavy anchor. I reach out for the worn notebook resting nearby and flip it open, its pages ready to receive my thoughts and ideas for the upcoming project, even if, for now, it's a solo endeavor. After all, if Jungkook insists on making things difficult, I'm more than willing to return the favor. "Key word: 'probably,' but I can't take that risk with Jungkook," I try to speak as calmly as possible, frustration mounting within me. There's no way I can just sit here and hope he comes to his senses. I need to take action. I shouldn't be in this position, having to babysit a grown man when it comes to his academics. I mean, seriously, I'm baffled by his attitude towards this assignment. How on earth is he the top student in the Computer Science department? Does the university randomly select his name from a hat filled with sheets of paper with only his name on them? Or is he secretly paying someone to do his assignments? "But I hope you're right," I concede with a sigh as I wrap up the call and head to bed.

"Jeon!" I shout, my voice slicing through the noisy street, instantly grabbing the attention of curious onlookers. He strides purposefully toward Avery's Bagel Shop, his arm wrapped around the waist of a wavy-haired blonde. Her stunning long legs propel her forward, her eyes locked on him, with hearts practically sparkling in them. As I watch their interaction unfold before me, it becomes painfully evident that this is a heartbreak in the making. Jungkook, of all people, isn't exactly renowned for his ability to commit, and that's common knowledge around campus. He cycles through new romantic interests every week, and he's openly professed his disinterest in love on countless occasions. Yet, here she is, hopelessly falling for him—poor thing.

I raise my voice, frustration bubbling within me as I call out to him once more. But he remains utterly indifferent, his gaze fixed solely on the entrance of the quaint, inviting eatery. With a graceful sweep, he swings the door open, his hand tenderly resting on her lower back as he ushers his companion inside. I can't help but let out an exasperated sigh, my impatience growing by the second. I shake my head in disbelief before navigating my way across the bustling street. What the fuck is his problem? Stepping through the gleaming silver double doors, I make my way to the established ordering queue. Contrary to any wild ideas he might be concocting in his thick skull, I'm not here because of him. I wanted to get some work done on a few of my assignments before making my way to Chenle's place. Avery's holds a special place in my heart— it's been my favorite spot to grab a bite and study for years. Avery, the owner, is a culinary virtuoso in her mid-thirties, a mastermind behind a medley of bagel creations that are nothing short of life-altering. Over time, she's expanded her menu to include other breakfast and lunch delights, all of which keep people coming back for more.I became a regular of Avery's in her food truck era. Back then, she operated her modest business right in the heart of the city, serving her delectable creations from a weathered, banged-up red truck.Since then, I haven't looked back, it feels like I've gained a good friend and a great place to study when I need to. "Are you planning to ignore me for the rest of your life?" I say, my voice filled with frustration as I approach Jungkook. He's engrossed in a conversation with the blonde, oblivious to my approach. It amuses me how much effort he invests in girls he never intends to pursue beyond a casual fling. I mean, what's the point of all this when there are no intentions of going any further?

I watch as he slowly turns his head to identify the source of the voice. When he realizes it's me, his expression shifts, but he doesn't reply. The blonde clinging to his arm shoots me a nasty glare, clearly annoyed that I've interrupted their conversation. It's even more amusing to me that there are girls who willingly put themselves in such situations with guys like Jungkook, thinking they can be the ones to change them. "The assignment is due in just four days, Jeon, and I haven't even started because of you," I huff, frustration gnawing at me as I rummage through my bag to find my purse. Earlier, he had told me he had important matters to attend to today, which was why he couldn't meet with me. When I proposed meeting later in the day, he promptly shot down the idea, insisting he didn't have the time. So you can imagine my surprise when I spotted him with his little date. Emerging from the depths of my bag with my purse in hand, I shift my gaze toward him, awaiting his response. But there's nothing. No glimmer of recognition in his eyes, no hint of acknowledgment. He just stands there, unmoving, as if I'm invisible.

Is he really going to stand there and ignore me like a petulant child

I exhale a deep sigh, my eyes narrowing as I focus on the back of his head, frustration bubbling up inside me like a simmering volcano. A million wicked scenarios play out in my mind, each one more devious than the last, all focused on how I could effectively sabotage his date.

A mischievous thought dances through my mind. What if I were to swing my bag, aiming it at that unsuspecting, utterly useless head of his? And just for good measure, I could give his blonde friend a forcefully playful shove, a move that would surely knock her on her ass.

Or perhaps... A sly smirk gradually creeps across my face as a more subtle, yet equally potent, idea blossoms in my mind. It's nothing too extravagant, but I have complete confidence that it will work like a charm.

As I stand here, contemplating my revenge plot, I can't help but notice that the queue opposite the one I'm currently in has emptied out. Without missing a beat, I smoothly slide into that vacancy, feeling a rush of anticipation building within me. My eyes immediately fixate on the illuminated board behind the cashier's head. I tilt my head to the side, carefully examining my options before allowing my gaze to shift to Jungkook, whose irritated expression is now in plain view.

As I observe, a smug grin slowly creeps across my face. I can't help but revel in the satisfaction that washes over me as I witness the subtle twitch in his furrowed brow and the rhythmic clenching of his jaw. The tension practically oozes from his pores, an electrifying aura that I can almost taste. After all, he doesn't deserve to have a good day, not after all those lies he's been feeding me these past few days. I'm in absolute awe of his extraordinary ability to seemingly disregard my very presence. My eyes meticulously track his every move, from the way he confidently places orders for both himself and his date, to the charming, heart-melting smile he offers her and with a delicate touch, he tucks a strand of her golden locks behind her ear. It's almost as if the world revolves around them, and everyone else in the room merely fades into the background. I watch, captivated, as he tenderly grasps her hand, guiding her with a gentle assurance toward a cozy booth nestled in a secluded corner of the establishment. They settle in, their bodies so close that their shoulders brush against each other, creating an aura of intimacy that's impossible to ignore. Their conversation flows effortlessly, brimming with laughter and whispered sweet nothings. I have to admit, this guy knows exactly what to do to make a girl feel special.

A simmer of irritation bubbles beneath my skin, while amusement dances at the edges of my thoughts. Jungkook, so blissfully unaware of just how persistent I can be and utterly clueless about my insatiable appetite for pettiness, continues to test my tolerance for his behavior daily. What he doesn't know is that I've always been known for my excellence in theatrics, and quite frankly, if Jungkook wants to put on a performance, I'll give him a whole damn show.

As soon as I place my order, I waste not a single second in moving toward my target. I stride with unwavering purpose toward their booth, my head held high, my hips swaying seductively as I saunter across the room. A mischievous glint flickers in my eyes as I gracefully slide into the seat right beside him, his murderous glare meeting my unflinching gaze.

I respond with a sickeningly sweet smile, my voice dripping with a teasing tone, my eyes twinkling with faux longing. "I haven't seen you since Monday, Jeon. I really missed you," I say, letting a pout form on my plump lips as I lean in closer to him. My gaze shifts to his date as I rest my head on his shoulder. "Who's this, Kook?" I mumble, deliberately ignoring the way his fists clench between us. I'm fully aware that my intrusion on his little date will undoubtedly annoy the ever-loving shit out of him.

He exchanges a quick, awkward glance with his date, who appears thoroughly confused and uncomfortable with my sudden presence. I release a sigh, my gaze carefully assessing her features. "My replacement, perhaps?" I ask, shifting my attention back to him. I catch that split-second flicker of surprise on his face – he clearly didn't expect me to say that. "Amaya," he warns, his demeanor growing stern as he clenches his jaw, clearly struggling to maintain his composure. But if I'm completely honest, I've never been one to heed warnings; Chenle always claimed that it would take a miracle worker to handle my attitude. "I'm Amaya, by the way. You?" My focus shifts to her.

"Kiarra," she whispers, her voice barely audible, and I notice her eyes closely following my fingers as they delicately trace the contours of Jungkook's exposed neck. Her lips curl into a condescending smile as she shifts to the seat opposite ours. Girls like Kiarra, the quintessential "it" girl, always seem to gravitate towards guys like my insufferable group member.

To be honest, I've got her type down pat. Her shallowness cuts through the layers of designer labels and caked-on makeup. She gives off vibes of someone who places an exorbitant amount of importance on her position within the social hierarchy, evident in the meticulous effort she pours into her appearance.

She's undoubtedly frequented the finest surgeons, splurged on the most lavish clothes, and surrounds herself with a clique of girls who are both beautiful and, well, rather uninteresting. "So, how did you end up meeting my favorite boy?" I ask, a gentle smile gracing my lips, my head still comfortably nestled on his shoulder, my gaze locked onto her as we engage in this unspoken standoff. She's challenging me for control of the situation. "We met at Jimin's party last week," she responds with a manufactured smile, her impeccably white teeth on full display. However, I can discern the underlying annoyance in her eyes, even through her facade.

"Jimin's party," I inquire, my brows furrowing in faux hurt, pretending to be genuinely surprised as I maintain that delicate touch along Jungkook's collarbone. My fingers trace a slow, teasing path, eliciting a subtle shiver from him. "I'm hurt, Kookie. You told me you were too busy," I pout, my tone dripping with feigned disappointment. I shift my gaze to Jungkook, my eyes wide and glistening, attempting to make it appear as if I'm truly saddened by his recent evasiveness.

Kiarra, caught off guard by my interaction with Jungkook, shifts uncomfortably in her seat. She clears her throat, her irritation growing the longer I linger. "Well, I guess he had some free time after all," she retorts, her voice laced with hostility. The cracks in little miss perfect's facade are becoming more apparent, and I can practically feel the tension radiating off Jungkook in waves. He's obviously annoyed by my intrusion, but by the look on his face, you could never tell well aside from his clenched jaw. "Amaya, what are you doing?" His deep voice carries a warning as he slowly turns his head to look down at me, his dark eyes fixed on mine.

I maintain my act, tilting my head ever so slightly to meet his gaze, a playful smile dancing on my lips. "I mean, I have to get your attention somehow, right?" I respond, my voice brimming with faux innocence. Leaning in a little closer, my lips hover dangerously close to his ear, and I whisper, "Besides, it's been weeks, and you've been so absorbed in... other endeavors." I punctuate my statement with a sly wink.

Kiarra's perfectly manicured nails clench onto the edge of her designer bag as she observes our little spectacle, clearly flustered.

Drawing even nearer to Jungkook, my lips graze his ear as I murmur, "You know, we do make quite the convincing pair, don't you think?" My words are laced with just enough mischief to set him on edge, and I can see the gears turning in his head as he contemplates how to navigate this unexpected scenario. "Excuse me," she mutters, abruptly pushing her chair back and rising to her feet. Her frustration is palpable in her tone.

"Leaving so soon?" I inquire, my voice dripping with feigned concern.

Jungkook attempts to intervene, but Kiarra is already making her way toward the exit. "Kiarra, wait," he pleads, reaching out for her, but she brushes past him without a second glance.

With a theatrical sigh, I rest my head on Jungkook's shoulder once more. "Well, that didn't go as planned, did it?"

Jungkook rolls his eyes, a hint of amusement twinkling in his gaze. "You're un-fucking-believable."

I flash him a mischievous grin, my façade dropping as Kiarra departs. "Just rescuing you from a bad date, Kookie," I remark with a wink. "And reminding you that you can't keep avoiding our assignment forever." With a satisfied hum, I smoothly slide out of the booth and stride toward the exit, shooting him a playful wink before making my way to Chenle's place.

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#jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook fiction #jungkook smut #bts fanfction #bts fic #bts smut

[spookyserenades]

I’m not much of a commenter (which is super hypocritical since receiving comments is my kryptonite lol), but I just felt like I needed to. I cannot describe how much I enjoy your work; I’m absolutely floored by the sheer word counts you dash out so consistently. Nothing ever feels choppy, and the scenes flow nicely into each other! Your funny moments are funny, your sad ones are crushing, and everything else in between is iconic.

I guess I was wondering just how you manage to stay so consistent? I write chapters that usually range between 13-17k myself, but I can’t seem to stick with a consistent updating schedule. How often do you write? Do you sit down daily and write just a little, or do you sit down occasionally but manage a few k each time?

Also, I cannot stress this enough how natural everyone’s relationship in Trouvaille is. I feel like it’s realistic that none of the boys would be immediately too keen with the mc but that they also wouldn’t stay distant forever? It felt special being able to gradually read about their developments, and I feel like once the mc gets with more of the boys eventually, it’ll be so rewarding? Idk, but I just cannot wait. The latest chapter ending scene with Jin has me so on edge; I can sense the angst from here—

Regardless, (and sorry for my rambling) I love your work!

—M

Hellooo love! I'm so happy to hear from you, thank you fro reading Trouvaille and sending me some love, I'm glad to have you here 🥺💕

Thank you for your sincere compliments, too 😭❤️ I haven't had someone mention the length of the chapters in a while-- they're big bois!! The last two chapters have been a bit shorter, but sometimes you say all that you need to without necessarily hitting the original wc estimate. I'm so happy to hear that the flow is smooth, and that you're enjoying the humorous moments (loveeee sneaking in things my mom have said before, her one-liners kill!) and I'm eeeeee you're too sweet thank you thank you 😭💕

As for consistency! I love this question, because I might have pulled the wool over your eyes. I started writing Trouvaille summer of 2022, and wrote up to Chapter 6 before I ever began posting on Tumblr. Between July 2022 - July 2023 I had chapters on "reserve" so really I'd just edit them before posting them.... Now, not so much the case. I write each chapter (since 8) each month, which admittedly can be a bit stressful, but it honestly forces me to write consistently and constantly. I think that can be a potentially good thing for writers who struggle to actually put pen to paper, having a "deadline" monthly, but every writer is different!

Additionally, I'm not the best person to ask about writing schedules,,, unfortunately I am a procrastinator so OFTEN I binge-write for hours on end. I recommend setting aside an hour or two a day to write if time allows you to do so, rather than type nonstop for 8 hours the day before an update LMAO!! I definitely want to become the writer that does bit by bit every day to cut down on the stress. I also want to say that once I stopped pressuring myself to make EVERY update 20k+words, things flowed a little more easily. It's better to have a shorter update that's concise and has everything you want to say, rather than bulking it up with filler.

Thank you so so much for loving all of the character's relationships so far, too 🥺 I know slow burn isn't for everyone, but it always felt more natural for me to write the hybrids as slow-to-trust, considering the world they live in in Trouvaille. I agree with you, when everyone starts to grow closer and closer over time, the sweet moments will seem even sweeter after all of the angst and growing 💕

Thank you again for reading, M, and I'm sending you so much love (and energy to keep on writing!!)

#trouvaille #m #asks #dana's thoughts

[daytaker]

12. Celestial Light (LABS Update!)

“The only thing I regret about leaving that stupid dinner is that I don't get to watch Lucifer squirm while they talk about that place. They don’t even know that they’re punishing him, and he’s too proud to tell them. I’m Wrath. I can leave when I want to. But Pride is trapped. I hope that dinner goes on for a long, long time.”

I updated my dumpster for early Satan headcanons magnum opus!

Existing Sucks, So Let's All Be Shadows!

Ship: Satan x GN!MC (There ain't one of it in this chapter though. Actually you have to squint to find it anywhere in the first twelve chapters. This technique is what the chefs among us call a "slow burn".) Chapter Word Count: ~5500 Hosted on AO3. Excerpt below the cut.

“Why didn’t you go yet?” he snapped.

“I was giving you time to calm down.”

“I think I told you that I don’t like being treated like a child.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Then you’d better stop slamming your silverware and storming off to your room.”

Satan scowled, his cheeks flushing darkly. “What did you want?”

“Do you want this roll? Because otherwise I’ll eat it.”

Looking more exhausted than angry, Satan sat on the floor adjacent to me.

“Just split it in half.”

I did, and for a minute, we sat eating our rolls, listening to the indistinct sound of voices and the clattering of silverware against dishes downstairs.

I was the first one to speak. “I don’t blame you for being frustrated.”

Satan pinched down on the bit of bread left and looked at it with a sneer. “Thank goodness I have your permission to be mad. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise.”

“Sarcasm isn’t a good look either, if you’re trying to come across as mature,” I said to him, and he smushed that last bit of bread into a tiny, doughy pancake before popping it in his mouth. His tail wrapped around him and he toyed with the spikes on it, gritting his teeth.

I sighed, tucking my foot under my opposite knee. “Sorry. You don’t need me scolding you on top of everything else right now.”

His fingers stopped working and his teeth stopped grinding for a moment before he looked up at me.

“I don’t understand you. You don’t have any reason to be so nice to me. But you are, and I’ve just been letting you do it.” He leaned in slightly. “At this point, I’m willing to accept that you aren’t just a spy for Lucifer, but in that case, what is your angle? Are you collecting favors or something? Do I owe you?”

I almost laughed. How cynical could one person be?

“Where I’m from,” I said, “it’s not that unusual to be kind to other people just because it feels good.”

“It feels good?”

“If you’re being sincere, and if they seem to appreciate it? I think so, yeah.”

“How do you know I’ve appreciated a single thing you’ve done?”

I met his gaze full on. That was such a stupid question. “What, don’t you?”

He resumed fidgeting with his tail, giving him an excuse to avert his eyes. “…Some of it, yes.” He shifted a bit further away from me and suddenly changed the subject. “That angel said there aren’t shadows in the Celestial Realm. What did he mean by that?”

“…I don’t know,” I said, looking at him curiously. “You’d have to ask Simeon.”

“I don’t want to ask Simeon,” he muttered. He sounded childish again, but I kept that thought to myself this time.

“You’re interested in shadows, aren’t you?” I tilted my head slightly. “You’ve talked about them before.”

“They’re what light doesn’t touch,” he replied, as if that should make everything clear. 

I nodded, paused, sighed, and said, “I hope you’re not getting the literal and the metaphorical too mixed up.”

“Is there a difference though? The Devildom is literally dark. The Celestial Realm is literally light. Angels…are literally light. I didn’t realize that before today.”

I was starting to feel as if what he was trying to tell me was going right over my head. “Does that mean demons are literally dark? What are you trying to say?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I’m just talking.” He shifted to rest his back against the wall beside me. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

#labs update #obey me fanfic #obey me #obey me satan #obey me satan x mc #om satan #the angels are here now #ding dong it's simeon #it's basically just chapter 6 of the game plus some stuff and minus some other stuff #lucifer suffering makes satan a happy boy #daytaker fanfic #gives satan half a dinner roll #did i mention satan writes poetry in this fic? #(“he does?” ask the people who read this fic “when the hell did that happen?”) #(yes but it hasn't come up a whole lot. it's definitely mentioned in chapter 2. it's on my list of things to get around to at some point.) #satan

[ebonysficcollection]

read between the lines by @real-fakedoors

Status: completed

One of the best Quirkless Izuku fics I have ever read

I have always fucking hated slow burn fics where it takes the main couple 37 chapters and 40 thousand words to even kiss. Sometimes it works, but only very rarely. Here, that is mercifully not the case. While the fic itself is only 18 chapters, and Izuku and Shouto don't actually get together until chapter 11, given the actual length of those chapters, that is more than enough time for the author to explore Izuku and Shouto's relationship WHILE THEY'RE IN A RELATIONSHIP. And not only that, but they get together, and they actually stay together. The relationship development is done so brilliantly here because it's done in stages. Strangers, to friction, to amicability, to friends, to boyfriends. And the amount of time that it takes for them to go through these stages is all done in a believable amount of time. Izuku and Shouto's relationship development in this fic is on par with Luz and Amity's relationship development in The Owl House, which can only be a good thing.

Also, along that same vein, when Shouto is actually aware of his feelings, not only does he not beat around the bush and go "welp, guess it's time to pine forever", but the day he realizes that he likes Izuku as more than a friend, he starts making plans to ask him out that same exact day! Like, not only is that extremely realistic (not just for Shouto's character, but also for how people actually act when they have feelings for someone) but it's also really fucking refreshing!

I really love how Izuku was still able to have a sense of proactivity and agency despite being Quirkless AND despite not being in the hero course or being especially skilled in combat or fighting. It's really rare to see that combination of attributes in a bnha fic.

Sometimes the writing style can be a little... heavily wordy at times, but not so much so that I had the desire to stop reading it, which is usually where I tend to drop off in fics that do something similar. Thankfully, though, the dialogue felt very natural and fit well with the characters when they were speaking, because you can have all the clunky narration you want, but the second the dialogue starts getting fucky is when I peace the fuck out. The pacing could also be a little wonky at times, with certain scenes feeling like they're progressing way too slowly but I chalk that up mainly to the word count, and again, it wasn't so bad that it was an active deal-breaker, and when I actually sat down to read it, I almost never felt my attention drifting. Basically, I guess that's a long way of saying that this is not a casual read, but a lot of people like fics they can binge, so.

While I am here primarily for Tododeku, I appreciate that the author didn't feel the need to sacrifice anything about the story for the sake of... fan-service I guess is the best way to put it. Izuku and Shouto are allowed to have their own lives, goals, and stories outside of each other while still developing in their relationship with each other. They even have their own separate support systems, which is something I appreciated. (I cannot stress enough the author's competency at writing good believable relationships).

Also Shinsou is a predominant character in this fic and I love him, and I love that he's basically Izuku's best friend. He and Izuku's friendship is great and reminds me a lot of me and my own best friend.

There's a scene where Shouto goes to Natsu for relationship advice and it's fucking amazing

I cannot believe that shit hit the fan in the FIRST. FUCKING. CHAPTER! Say what you will, but this fic does NOT beat around the bush.

Literally the only thing I don't like about it is the fact that it's a part of a series that hasn't updated in forever

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #tododeku #bnha fanfic recs #bnha fanfiction #bnha fanfics #mha fanfic recs #mha fanfiction #tododeku fanfic #tododeku fanfiction #tododeku fic recs #tododeku fanfic rec #fanfiction review #fanfic review #fanfiction recommendation #fanfic rec

[waywardxrhea]

Part two - The Tesseract

[slow burn romance between Steve Rogers and SHIELD agent Emma Baker]

Warnings: 18+, contains humor, fluff, mental health, family trauma, romance, angst, language, violence, (potentially smut later on).

installment list

Word count: 5.3k

A new threat emerges when Loki gets his hands on the Tesseract.

A few days later, Emma is on her way to a facility in Nevada where work is being done on a celestial object called the Tesseract that has been taken into SHIELD custody. While she drives, her work phone begins ringing. Emma looks at the contact and sees that it's Maria calling so she holds the phone between her shoulder and ear, saying, "Hey Maria, do you have more intel for me before I get there?"

"No, I'm calling you to tell you to turn back," she replies with a tone of seriousness indicating that this wasn't a leisurely phone call at all.

"Turn back? Why?" Emma asks, curiosity and worry filling her mind.

"This thing is emitting tons of energy so we've called an evac. We don't know when or if it'll blow but if it does we also don't know if there's a safe distance to be away from it. I need you to turn around right now."

"Oh wow," Emma whispers, "and I can't help with the evac? I'm almost there."

"No. It isn't safe here right now. You have intel on too many missions to get hurt or compromised tonight Emma," Maria tells her.

Emma slows her rental car down as she sees a fleet of SHIELD trucks passing her quickly. "Okay, but you all stay safe in there, got it?"

"Got it," Maria replies. "I'll call you after with updates. Fury will probably have you interview those present afterward for an article so be ready for that."

"I'll be all over it," Emma tells her as she turns the car around. Emma tries to make light of the situation by saying, "Well since we already flew out to Nevada, how's a trip to Vegas afterward sound?"

On the other end of the call, Maria laughs a bit before saying, "I'm gonna try and survive this situation first. If I'm lucky enough to make it out then sure, I'll try my luck in Vegas."

"Sounds like a plan, stay safe," Emma says.

"Always am," Maria replies before hanging up the phone.

Emma begins driving in the opposite direction of the facility as the ground begins to rumble. She takes the road she came on and after a couple of miles, in her rearview mirror, she sees an explosion in the air. A bad feeling fills her stomach and Emma decides to whip the car around to see what was the cause of the explosion.

While speeding back, she sees one of the facility trucks making its way through the sand and then a lone figure in the dark. She cautiously makes her way over to the figure and hits the brakes when she sees that it's Director Fury.

Emma rolls down the window, calling out, "What the hell just happened? Are you okay Director?"

Fury runs to the other side of the car and jumps in, asking, "Did you see a truck heading that direction?"

"Yes sir," Emma replies.

"Floor it," he says, buckling in.

"On it." Emma slams her foot on the pedal and turns in the direction she saw the truck driving. "Is Hill okay?"

"Hill's fine," Fury says while looking out the window. "She's stuck in the rubble right now but she's alive which is what matters."

"Of course sir," Emma agrees as they speed along the road.

After a few minutes of not seeing anything in the sand, Fury shakes his head, mumbling, "We aren't gonna find them this way..."

"Do you not have a chopper, sir?"

"Agent, that's what exploded back there," he tells her. "That lunatic blasted me out of the air."

"I see," Emma replies quietly. Emma's mind is filled with questions about who shot him out of the sky, of what exactly was going on, and wanting to know how she could help, but before she can ask any of them, Fury is already on his walkie with Agent Coulson setting up a meeting point. They quickly meet up at the set location and Fury tells Emma to head out to her hotel for the night.

After regrouping in New York and getting a file together, Fury asks Emma to come with him to talk with Captain Rogers about the mission they had begun to get the Tesseract back. As they walk down the hall towards the facility gym, they hear the sound of a punching bag being beat to death. At this sound, Fury tells Emma, "You go in there first. Get him talking and in a better mood before I head in there asking him to suit up again after all these years."

"Yes sir," Emma says with a nod before walking quietly into the gym. She watches as Captain Rogers punches the bag with all his might, sweat dripping from his body from the exertion. He deals a final blow that sends the bag flying off of its hook and across the room. After giving him a second to breathe, Emma asks, "Wanna talk about it?"

He doesn't look at her as he replies, "What's there to talk about? It's been almost seventy years since I was last conscious. All my friends are dead, I have no idea how to operate in this world, and everyone is acting like this is such a normal thing and that it's just supposed to be fine. You all expect me to be okay and act as if nothing happened!"

Emma takes in the words before telling him, "Captain Rogers, that's what I'm here for. I'm here to help you navigate this whole situation. The world is scary and overwhelming even to me sometimes, so maybe I can try and empathize with you to help you get through it all. And I know you probably aren't okay right now and that you'll need time. I understand needing time to heal from the hurt."

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm not sure empathizing will work out. We seem to be in very different situations here," he says with a bit of hostility in his voice.

"Well I'm afraid you don't have any other choice, Cap," Emma tells him while sitting down on the ground and leaning against a support column. "I'll give you all the time you need, but you're stuck with me." She ends her statement with a small laugh and a smile to ease the tension.

Captain Rogers sighs as he sets up another punching bag. "Can I at least have a few more days to wrap my head around everything?"

When he says this, Director Fury emerges into the room, telling him, "In those days you should be out taking time to see how the world has evolved. The best way to wrap your head around it all is to immerse yourself in it."

Captain Rogers looks at him and says, "When I went under, the world was at war. When I wake up they say we won. They didn't say what we lost."

"We've made a few mistakes along the way," Fury replies, "some very recently."

He looks between Emma and Fury and asks, "So this is about a mission isn't it?"

Emma puts her hands up defensively, "I'm genuinely wanting to help you out here, Cap."

"But I do have a mission for you," Fury tells him.

"This another way to get me back in the world?"

"Well, we're trying to save it," Fury replies while handing him a file.

Rogers looks at the file and says, "HYDRA's secret weapon..."

Fury nods, telling him, "Howard Stark fished that out of the ocean when he was looking for you. He thought that the Tesseract could be the key to unlimited sustainable energy."

Emma pipes in, adding, "That's something the world nowadays really needs."

Captain Rogers hands the folder back to Fury and asks, "Who took it?"

"They call him Loki. He's...not from around here," Fury tells him. "There's a lot we'll need to bring you up to speed on if you're in. The world's gotten a lot stranger than you remember."

"I doubt anything would surprise me at this point," Rogers says with a sigh.

Fury gives him a look and tells him, "Ten bucks says you're wrong." He continues telling Captain Rogers about the file and asking him some questions as he leaves the gym. When he's out of sight, Fury returns and Emma gets up off the floor. "I want you running report on this one, Baker. It'll be a big op and I need my best eyes on it."

"Yes sir. On your orders," Emma replies.

"I'll get someone to deliver an intel file to your place ASAP. Expect it tonight."

"Yes sir," she tells him.

Emma makes her way to her apartment to make dinner for herself while listening to music and dancing her nerves away. After she finishes her meal, there is a knock at the door and something is slipped under.

Emma stands up to check it out and sees the file is labeled "top-secret mission." She cracks open the door to see if anyone was still outside but sees no one. Closing and locking the door once more, Emma switches her playlist to classical music so she can concentrate while reading the file.

A few days later, Emma is in a jet with Captain Rogers and Agent Coulson heading to the SHIELD helicarrier to meet up with the team that Director Fury put together. Emma listens in on the conversation between the men with half an ear while she looks into the additional information they were given for the day.

Emma hears Coulson refer to Stephen Hawking and Cap gives him a look of confusion. Emma speaks up, informing him, "He's a really smart scientist. I'll add that onto the list of things to show you."

Rogers nods before returning his attention to Agent Coulson. "I've got to say, it's an honor to officially meet you, I mean I kinda met you, I watched you when you were still asleep," Coulson tells him with a giddy smile before realizing what he said and stammering out, "I mean not in a weird way, I meant that I was there watching to see when you woke up."

Emma giggles and pipes in, "I was too, it isn't weird, Cap. You were a highly anticipated guest to the agency."

Coulson breathes a sigh of relief and mouths a thank you to Emma for helping out. The two men make their way to look out the front of the jet and Steve says to him, "I just hope I'm the man for the job."

"You are. For sure," Coulson replies quickly. He's quiet for a few seconds before telling him, "We made some modifications to the uniform for you."

"The uniform? The stars and stripes aren't a little...old fashioned now?" Cap asks.

"With everything happening right now and what's going to happen, I think the country needs a little old-fashioned."

Emma nods as Captain Rogers looks at her. "You'd be surprised how many people would rather live back in the time you're from. Or, well, roughly around there. I'm one of them myself. I'd have preferred to have lived a simple life back in the '50s."

Captain Rogers nods in response and the three of them make small talk for the rest of the trip. The whole time though, he can't get his mind off of what could have been if he hadn't crashed the plane into the ice all those years ago... He could have lived a simple life with Peggy, had kids, watched them grow up, but that opportunity was taken away from him.

When they land on the SHIELD carrier, Agent Coulson introduces Captain Rogers to Natasha Romanoff, one of the best spies in the business. After their introductions, Romanoff tells Coulson, "You better get in there, they're starting the face trace."

Coulson nods and tells Emma, "Follow me."

"Yes sir," she replies. She gives a small wave to Romanoff and Captain Rogers before following beside Agent Coulson.

When the two of them are out of earshot of the others, Coulson tells Emma, "Again thank you for jumping in to save me earlier. I couldn't find the right words to say and any filter I had just went out the window when I started talking to him."

Emma laughs, telling him, "It was no problem, I know the feeling all too well." She pauses for a moment before asking teasingly, "Are you a big fan of Captain America or something, Coulson?"

He returns the laugh and nods, replying, "You can say that." He looks around subtly to make sure no one else was there before saying, "Between you and me, do you think he'd want to sign my vintage trading cards? I ask because out of everyone so far, you're closest with him."

"I'd hardly say we're close yet, but I am the one who has spent the most time with him. I say maybe wait a little bit for that ask, he's still wrapping his head around the fact that he's in 2012 right now. When all this Tesseract stuff is dealt with maybe then."

"Got it," he replies as they get to the meeting area where Fury and Maria are waiting.

"Coulson, Baker," Fury says curtly as they approach.

"Director Fury," they respond.

"Thank you two for getting Captain Rogers here in one piece. Now, Coulson, I need you to get with the other agents to talk about the game plan for the upcoming mission and monitor the face trace. Baker, there's a computer set up with all your programs for reporting as well as your surveillance drone for when the need arises. For this particular trip, I need you to document important points brought up by the team I have gathered as well as anything important that happens in the search for Loki. Are both of you clear on your instructions?"

"Yes sir," they reply before setting off in opposite directions to their stations.

After setting up and getting her laptop and tablet up and running, Emma begins making rounds of the ship to see where to start on her documentation. When she gets to the room where agents are running facial recognition for Loki, she hears Agent Coulson talking with Captain Rogers about signing his card collection. Emma laughs to herself and continues observing from the sidelines of the room, trying to be as unnoticeable as possible to the occupants.

Action finally begins as one of the agents gets a match to Loki in Germany. The craft shifts course to its new destination and as if on cue, Director Fury enters the room and announces, "You're up, Cap."

Captain Rogers nods and follows Fury to where his new and improved suit is being stored. Emma follows loosely behind so she can get Cap's initial reaction to being back in uniform for the first time. After a few minutes, he emerges into the hall clad in red, white, and blue with his shield all polished up and new-looking.

Emma lets out a low whistle at the sight of the shield and says, "Now that is a nice looking shield." Captain Rogers chuckles a bit and Emma asks, "For the record, how's the new suit feel?"

"It feels...new, yet old-fashioned at the same time," he responds. He looks around and adds, "Off the books though, between you and me, it's a bit bright."

Emma laughs and says, "Your secret's safe with me. Now, can you tell me what you're getting suited up for?"

"Aren't you supposed to know everything, Agent Baker?"

"For documentation purposes, it's just better to have direct quotes, Captain," Emma tells him. He nods and gives her the information Fury gave to him as they walk down the hall to prepare for the mission.

Once the ship is closer to Germany, a select few SHIELD agents prepare to depart the craft with Captain Rogers, Emma being one of them. As all the other agents are getting suited up to go, Emma runs some tests to make sure her drone is working for capturing the footage. As she does this, Maria walks up behind her and says, "Are you clear on your orders of where to perch for documentation?"

"The building half a block down from the target on the roof. Stay there unless fire comes directly at me and if it does, look for another agent for cover or the rescue team," Emma replies without looking up. She finally makes eye contact when all her systems are active, telling her, "This isn't my first time doing this, Maria."

"I know but it always worries me when someone goes into the field unarmed, especially when it's my best friend," she replies. "Why don't you carry again? I feel like we should make that mandatory for all field agents... I can take you to a range and teach you, I think you'll catch on pretty quick."

Emma laughs and tells her, "It's not that I can't because trust me I can. It's just that I don't want to and don't feel the need to. I've never been targeted in the field and taking someone's life just...doesn't sound like fun."

Maria sighs and says, "You haven't been targeted yet, but one day you will be and it's not gonna end well because you won't be armed."

Captain Rogers walks up to the pair and says, "Sorry to interrupt, but I have to steal Agent Baker away for the mission."

Maria nods and tells Emma, "Stay safe."

Emma calls over her shoulder, "You know I will!"

Maria laughs as she shouts back, "Uh-huh, next time you're taking a gun!"

Before the group of agents gets onto a couple of small aircraft to descend into Germany, Emma gives them all earpieces that will transmit into her computer for use later. Emma slips hers in after getting Cap's ready and asks him to test the audio on his end. "Testing, testing, this is Captain Steven Rogers," he says and the audio projects clearly onto Emma's laptop.

"Thank you," she says as she goes on to test the other sets of the agents. When they are above the drop zone, one of the other agents drops Emma off on her designated building before going off to his patrol area for if things with Captain Rogers go badly.

Once settled on the roof, Emma fires up her drone and puts on the reflective plates so no one will be able to see it. She flies the drone over to the huge crowd that had been fenced in with Loki's magic and shakes her head in sadness for the poor people that Loki was making kneel to him.

One man stands up in defiance and right as Loki is about to shoot a beam of power at him, Captain Rogers drops down and protects the man with his shield. Cap starts towards the gold-clad man and says, "You know, last time I was in Germany a man was standing above everybody and we didn't get along."

After a brief conversation between the two men, Agent Romanoff flies up in one of the stealth ships and aims a gun at Loki. She uses the speaker on the ship to say, "Loki, drop the weapon and stand down."

In response, Loki aims his scepter at the ship with the intent to blast Romanoff out of the sky. Fighting ensues between Captain Rogers and Loki, Emma flying her drone in closer to capture the action for the agents aboard the carrier.

After about a minute, a voice crackles into the headsets they were wearing, and in comes the voice of Tony Stark asking, "Did you guys miss me?" In true Stark fashion, he begins blaring AC/DC over the speakers of the jet Romanoff is in and Emma tries not to roll her eyes at the antics as she continues to film the encounter.

Captain Rogers and Loki look into the sky not sure what to think of the music when Stark flies in and knocks Loki to the ground. Emma captures the footage as Stark holds out his hand armed with a blaster along with another blaster on his shoulder daring Loki to make a move. The man lets the illusion of gold-clad clothes fade away as he puts his hands up in surrender, seeming to accept his fate.

When Stark and Rogers get the man into their custody, Emma shuts off her camera feed. She flies the drone back to her location right as a rescue craft comes down to bring her and the other agents back to the carrier. Romanoff, Stark, Rogers, and Loki are in one ship to fly back and Emma along with the other agents are in the second.

As they fly back to the SHIELD carrier, there is a spontaneous lightning storm that brews up. As they fly through, Emma looks up from her laptop to glance out the front of the ship as they hit some turbulence. Over the jet's audio system comes Director Fury's voice saying, "Agents, get out of that storm and to the carrier ASAP."

"Yes sir," the pilot responds as he speeds the craft up and away from the others.

Emma speaks up, asking, "Any reason we're straying from the other agents?"

The pilot calls back, "We're on direct orders from Fury to get out of the storm and to the carrier, I'm sure he told the others too. Don't worry Agent, the only thing you need to worry about is writing up your report."

"Yes sir," she replies and gets back to her laptop. For the rest of the ride back to the carrier, Emma writes up her report on the events of the mission that would be published for agency papers and online forums.

Upon arrival at the helicarrier, Emma promptly gives her file to another reporter to proofread it before publication. Before heading off to make her rounds, Emma notices the other craft that carried Loki and the others had not arrived yet. "Hey, where'd the others go?" she asks Maria who is working at a set of computers.

"They had to take a quick detour, they should be heading back soon," she replies.

Emma nods, saying, "Gotcha." She pauses and tells Maria mockingly, "See who didn't need a gun on her mission today?"

"You're really not gonna drop that are you?" Maria asks with a laugh as she looks up from her computer.

"I just like teasing you," Emma says with a quiet laugh. She then asks, "Now I'm going to talk with Doctor Banner, yes?"

"Correct," Maria replies before having her attention dragged elsewhere on the carrier.

Emma proceeds to make her way to Doctor Banner's lab and gently knocks on the door when she arrives. Doctor Banner looks up and motions for her to open the door. "Hello Doctor," Emma says with a smile. "I'm just here to document some of what you're doing to find the Tesseract and then I'll be out of your hair."

Doctor Banner nods as Emma sits quietly in a corner of the lab. "Are you being this nice on purpose because you know what I can turn into or are you always this nice to people you observe?" Banner asks with a bit of defensiveness in his voice.

Emma is shocked at the question for a second before saying, "I usually do tend to be nice to people I interview, Doctor. Otherwise, I wouldn't get the substance I need for an article. You can just continue as normal, maybe just speak out loud what you're doing or catch me up to speed in layman's terms and we'll be good to go." Doctor Banner smiles a bit at Emma's niceness before diving into what he's been working on the whole day.

A little while later a troop of guards passes the lab with Loki in tow. Emma glances up from her tablet when they do so and she catches a glimpse of Loki giving Doctor Banner a look. She shakes her head and mumbles, "Man that guy seems like a lunatic...what was that about?"

Banner shakes his head and responds, "He probably knows about the other guy and is trying to piss me off...it's all good though."

"If you need anything just tell me. I'm good with tech, but don't ask me to do anything sciency," Emma jokes to ease the tension in the room. "I can also get you some tea or whatever else you may want."

"I think it's time to meet up with the others, thank you though," he tells her and heads to the door of the lab.

Emma nods and follows him to where the rest of the assembled team are in a meeting room. She sits in a corner away from everyone so she can just document and not interfere, after all, it isn't her place to do so.

From the corner, Emma listens to the conversation between Fury and Loki through the monitor Agent Romanoff is streaming the feed through. By the sound of the conversation and the way Doctor Banner shrinks his posture, she knows the cage was originally designed for the Hulk.

After Fury and Loki's conversation ends, Banner jokes, "He really grows on you, doesn't he?" Emma laughs to herself at the joke before continuing to listen, jotting down the highlights, the big highlight being that Loki claims that he has an army from space that intends on helping him win power over Earth.

At this sentiment, Captain Rogers asks, "So this guy's got an army...from space?" Everyone nods, shocked but not too mind-blown, but Captain Rogers shakes his head in disbelief. Emma quickly tabs over to a different document and makes a note to tell him about the space race as well as show him some space-themed shows and movies.

The conversation continues for a bit before Tony Stark emerges into the room with Agent Coulson. Stark starts speaking as if he's the only one in the room and in charge as per usual, giving orders to the flight crew who just stares at him. Emma shoots Maria a look silently asking, Can he do that?

Maria shrugs before Stark announces, "That man is playing Galaga." This causes yet another confused look from Captain Rogers and Emma makes a note to take him to an old-school arcade to learn about the start of video games.

Stark and Banner start speaking aloud about what Loki's minions are going to need for his plan to work, almost all of it going over Emma's head. She's relieved when after Stark praised Banner for "speaking English", Captain Rogers mumbles, "Is that what just happened?"

Stark then tells Banner that he loves his scientific work along with how he turns into the Hulk and rampages everywhere. Emma sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose, remembering how her first assignment as a SHIELD reporter went horribly wrong because of him. Stark had never been the best at keeping his mouth shut then or now.

Fury strides into the room, announcing to Stark, "Doctor Banner is only here to track the cube. Nothing else. I was hoping you'd join him, Stark."

Captain Rogers jumps in, saying, “I'd start with that stick of his. It may be magical, but it looks an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon.”

Fury considers it for a second before saying, "I'm not so sure about that, but it is powered by the cube and I'd like to know how Loki used it to turn a couple of my best men into his personal flying monkeys."

"Monkeys?" Thor Odinson, the newest addition to the team, asks, "I do not understand."

"I do!" Captain Rogers interjects with a smile. "I understand that reference." Emma giggles and makes a mental note to tell Cap about the new Wizard of Oz movie coming out next year.

A little while later, after taking a small break, Emma is wandering the halls to get to where Stark and Doctor Banner had set up shop to locate the Tesseract when she sees Captain Rogers forcing open a door that was locked via keypad. Emma scrunches her eyebrows and follows him, careful not to make any noise as she does.

She slips through the crack in the door, glancing back to ensure that no one saw her, and sees the fleeting figure of Captain Rogers climbing up some of the machinery and walkways. Emma sighs to herself and looks around for a way to get up there without being a super-soldier...

After a few seconds, she spots a dangling ladder and makes her way to it, carefully scaling it. She quietly lifts herself onto the walkway and spots the Captain opening a box labeled classified. Emma clears her throat and asks, "Whatcha doing there, Cap?"

Rogers jumps at the sudden voice behind him and takes a fighting stance before realizing it's just Emma. He relaxes a bit, but still has his guard up while he asks, "What the hell is this? What is SHIELD really?"

Emma had put her hands up when Captain Rogers had taken his fighting stance and keeps them up as she replies, "I genuinely don't know what you're talking about, Cap. What's in that box?"

"Like you don't know. You're the top reporter at SHIELD, there's no way you don't know about this," he tells her.

"Like I said, I have no idea what you're talking about!"

Rogers ignores this statement and continues his questions, stepping closer to Emma as he asks, "Are you working for HYDRA? Is all of SHIELD just a modern-day version of HYDRA?"

"Captain Rogers, listen to yourself, why would SHIELD be HYDRA? Plus, if I knew I was working for an organization like that I would have bailed out a long time ago! I know you dealt with HYDRA back dur-"

Suddenly, Captain Rogers lunges toward Emma, pinning her arms down to her side and covering her mouth with his hand. Emma struggles and tries to get out of his grip, but he has her held to his body too tightly. While she struggles, he leans down and whispers, "Unless you want to get caught back here where we aren't supposed to be, I'd recommend you keep your mouth shut."

Emma nods quickly, not knowing what was going on until she hears a pair of footsteps that were now retreating at a leisurely pace. When the sound is far enough away, Captain Rogers releases Emma from his grip. "What the hell was that about?" she asks in a quiet shout.

"If you're a HYDRA agent, I couldn't have you calling for help," he tells her.

"For the last time, Cap, I don't work for HYDRA! SHIELD doesn't either!"

"Well, how do you explain this then?" Captain Rogers asks. Emma scrunches her eyebrows and goes to the box that he pointed to as he asked his question. He continues as she looks at the contents of the box, saying, "These are all HYDRA weapons of war. Tell me that doesn't look extremely suspicious on SHIELD's part."

"I will admit that does seem pretty suspicious..." Emma mutters, looking at the box with confusion in her eyes.

Captain Rogers evaluates Emma's reaction and everything she has said before and asks, "So you really didn't know about these?"

"No, not at all. SHIELD is a huge organization that has so many secrets. I only know what I'm called to report on or document. I had no idea these existed."

"Well, I for one am going to confront Fury about these."

"Let me help."

"I think it's best if you don't," he tells her while picking up one of the weapons to take as evidence.

"But Cap-" she tries.

He puts his hand up, telling her, "No bargaining. This is on me. We aren't supposed to be back here, so I think you should sneak back down and make sure no one sees you. That's an order."

Emma nods. She couldn't disobey direct orders from a superior. "Yes sir." She carefully makes her way back to the main area and Captain Rogers makes sure to wait a minute before following her down to ensure she wouldn't get caught with him.

link to the next part

#captain america #steve rogers #marvel #the avengers #maria hill #loki #writing #slow burn #romance #marvel fanfic series #captain america fic #steve rogers slow burn #steve rogers friends to lovers #steve rogers fic #avengers fanfiction

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Safe Haven ~Bang Chan | Day 6.

Pairing: SpaceRebel!Chan x WitchQueen!F.Reader Themes: Fantasy AU | Sci-Fi AU | Royalty AU | Soulmate AU | Slow Burn | Mutual Pining | Angst | Smut | Fluff. Series Warnings: Third person POV · Very loose and liberal usage of Star Wars concepts (mostly to refer to weapons and tech). you don’t need to know anything about SW to read this, trust me · Physical descriptions of the main female character such as: can visibly blush, having long hair, and being short · Violence · Swearing · Mature themes and language · Original characters · Graphic smut (later chapters) · Mentions of the members of other groups (later chapters) · No one is straight, beware · Each chapter will include its own individual warnings. Chapters marked as M (Mature) either include highly detailed violence, or smut.

Chapter Warnings: racism? (within the context of the story). Word Count: ~4k | AO3

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact. ✰This chapter has been reworked as of 16/08/2023

Previous Chapter: Day 5. | Series Masterlist. | Next Chapter: Day 7.

Disclaimer: the story presented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

The cool breeze of the night filtered pleasantly through the castle windows. A floating orb of light followed their every move as both Chan and the Queen made their way across the numerous corridors, all as an amicable conversation flowed between the two. Updates on the ship’s state, appreciative comments towards the food, Freyja’s first few hunts when she was but a cub, they engaged in some lighthearted small talk to fill in the otherwise silent area.

After a particularly sharp turn, Chan realised they were walking towards the throne room. He was slightly perplexed as they walked past the two heavy doors, and went into the adjacent wing.

“I thought you didn’t want me here”.

The Queen offered him a sheepish smile. “There’s a lot of important stuff in this area. We don’t typically let strangers wander here on their own”.

Chan just hummed in response, stuffing his hands in his pockets to keep them warm. They walked for a few more minutes until they reached an open area. Freyja immediately plopped down at the very entrance.

The place was spacious, one wall was covered from floor to ceiling in bookcases, with books neatly organised in each crevice. The other walls were filled with paintings of varying sizes and themes. People, scenery, and even objects were painted on the canvases. A handful of animal themed statues dotted the main open area.

But, by far, the most eye-catching piece in the entire room was the back wall, covered entirely by an intricate tapestry.

“Here’s where we keep records of the royal family”, the Queen told Chan. “We’ve got… special traditions. They might as well be as old as the planet itself”.

Her Majesty walked deeper into the hall, and Chan followed suit, until they reached the tapestry hanging on the wall. Numerous portraits of people covered the piece, connected to each other by delicate lines of varying  colours, sizes, and patterns.

“The royal family of Lira Le doesn’t follow the principle of blood and birthright as royals from other planets do. We’re born for and from magic”, the Queen began her explanation as she scanned the names and faces on the tapestry.

“Our family is connected by a special energy, we call it the Frequency. We are able to feel this Frequency, and find the people emitting it. That’s how Sol and I were adopted into the family. The moment we were born, the former rulers looked for us”, the Queen pointed towards the tapestry, to her and the High King, and then above them, to the former King and Queen.

“There’s this occurrence also… Every other generation, twins are born into the royal family. You should be able to see the repeating pattern in the tapestry”.

Chan could see it. The intricate tapestry showed an extensive family tree. The lines illustrated the different relationships between the monarchs, their respective partners, and descendants–if any.

The sets of twins appeared in every other generation, each pair connected by a delicate, repeating rune, the last on the line being the current Queen and High King. Nothing other than her family was connected to the Queen, the surrounding space around her portrait was empty aside from the rune that tied her to her brother. The High King’s portrait was almost the same, save for the dotted red line connecting him to another person.

Chan’s eyebrows rose in surprise at the face next to His Majesty and the name carefully embroidered below it. “Hoseok? The Hoseok?” 

“Yes, Hoseok”, a tender smile painted her features as she looked fondly at the two portraits. “They’ve known each other since we were children, but they only formalised their bond around eight years ago, if I remember correctly. He’s also been in the tapestry since then”.

“Huh… Must be nice”, was his only response as his eyes trailed the red dotted line connecting them. To be tied to another person on such a deep level certainly must be nice, especially knowing your energies were born to match each other.

Out of the corner of his eye Chan noticed someone else further away from the High King. It was the portrait of a young man. The features on his face were slightly washed out, making it hard to link it to anyone he had met so far–it was connected to the previous rulers by a straight, green line, the delicate inscription under it read ‘Ike’. 

“Who’s this?” Chan asked, curious.

The Queen tensed a bit, but she answered regardless. “Before we were adopted into the royal family… our parents had a son of their own. He’s no longer with us. It’s… a sore subject”.

The Queen’s voice was apparently sterile. Yet, there was an underlying tone of something. Chan wanted to inquire further, but his question died on his tongue as soon as Her Majesty continued talking.

“Anyway”, the Queen cleared her throat. “The Twin Regnants have a special role within the royal family. We must keep the balance between light and dark energy on the planet. I’m sure you will eventually notice Sol’s magic and mine are different. Not only between ourselves, but also compared to others, too”.

Chan hummed in understanding. “How do you do it? Keep the balance, I mean”.

“A bunch of rituals we have to follow, lots of ancient traditions. Boring stuff”, the Queen shrugged, waving a hand dismissively in the air. “And, honestly, just our mere existence. All magic here flows through us… Sometimes I feel like I’m just a glorified filter”, she added with a chuckle.

Chan laughed at her comment. He knew she was dumbing it all down for him, which was fine. The fine details were something probably too far out of his league to understand. Satisfied with that answer, he chose to ask something else. 

“What about your biological parents?”

“What about them?”

“Well, have you ever met them? What happened to them once you were adopted?” 

“Not really…” The Queen’s eyes thoughtfully trailed the tapestry, from her mark to the ones above her. “We never met them. It was mentioned to us that our birth mother was single, and that she passed away shortly after our birth. Unfortunately, it’s not uncommon for that to happen when you birth Twin Regnants, or when you birth royals in general, really. I do feel guilty about that sometimes…”

Chan looked at her, his eyes traced her pondering features as she looked at the different faces on the fabric. “It’s not your fault”.

“I know”, she turned to look at him, with the tiniest of smiles on her lips. “But it’s hard to not feel guilty about unfortunate events that are tied directly or indirectly to you. Even when they are beyond your control. Don’t you think so?”

“Yes, I can understand that”, and he did, truly. He could pull out an extensive list of numerous things he felt guilty about, even when he had not directly caused them.

Chan turned back to the tapestry, and he noticed the numbers embroidered in a smaller font under each name. They looked like galactic dates, but as he looked at the matching numbers under the current Queen and High King he paused, unsure.

“What are those?” He asked as he pointed towards the numbers.

She looked at him, with an amused glint in her eyes. “Those are numbers, Chan”.

Chan rolled his eyes in response. “Thank you, Your Majesty. What would I do without your infinite amount of knowledge?”

The Queen just chuckled, answering properly this time. “Each one of those under our names are just the dates of our birth. For the people that passed, that date is recorded as well”.

Surprise fell on his face at her confirmation, and the comment spilled from his lips before he could filter it. “You’re so young!”

“Why do you sound surprised? Do I look old?” He could tell she was teasing him, but even then, he recoiled immediately, trying to save his ass.

“No! You look great, actually”, he regretted ever opening his mouth, his next words rushed out of his lips as if they’d somehow make everything better. “I mean, we’re really close in age! You carry yourself like you’ve lived through a lot, even when you’re so young”.

Her Majesty huffed out a laugh, clearly amused by his outburst. “Because I have. As have you, I presume. That’s how things are when we do what we do”. 

Chan went silent, pondering her words. Of course she could tell. Anyone that took their path of rebellion would be able to understand how things were out there, the way the endless game of cat and mouse would wear you down much quicker than a regular civilian life would.

They stayed in silence for a while. The only sounds that could be heard in the room were coming from Freyja grooming herself, and from the wind flowing through the windows. Those sounds were joined by that incessant hum in his skull.

Chan looked at the tapestry, at the empty space adjacent to the Queen’s portrait. There was no red dotted line connecting her to any other person. Words bubbled on his tongue, and the sounds left his mouth before he could stop them. 

“Does that mean that you’re single?” He shut his eyes tight, grimacing as he mentally face-palmed himself–so much for being careful…

The Queen laughed at the sudden question. “Yes”, she answered finally. “Although sometimes it feels like I’m in an unhappy marriage with my own moral duties”.

Chan chuckled, and he genuinely felt a bit relieved that she hadn’t taken offence at his question. Only because of that. No other reason to feel relieved other than that… “Can relate, I suppose”.

Her Majesty looked back at him with a smile, a genuine one that had her eyes almost disappearing completely on her face.

“Thank you for telling me all this”, Chan was sure there was a smile on his face matching her own. “I think I’m starting to understand more”.

“If you’re ever curious about something, just ask. There’s no shame in that”, the Queen encouraged him, and in that moment, he genuinely felt like he could ask anything without judgement.

They stayed in the room for a while after that, the conversation turned to an assortment of non-essential topics that inadvertently showed bits and pieces of themselves. Their opinions, their views… It was pleasant, almost like he was talking with a friend.

Chan eventually made it back to his room, after showering Freyja with affection and sharing wishes of ‘Good night’ and ‘Sleep well’ with Her Majesty.

He took his clothes off the second the door closed behind him, and immediately plopped on his bed as sleep started to desperately cling to his bones.

There, in the wee hours of the night, with his mind half in the realm of the living, half holding onto his own personal dreamland, Chan vaguely realised he had dropped her title at some point during their conversation earlier.

The Queen hadn’t corrected him.

Not even once.

Chan made his way to the Big Bad Wolf right after breakfast, since Wang Eun took pity on him when he saw his face in the morning. A comment of ‘Wow, you do look awful in the mornings’ was the first thing to come out of his mouth as soon as Chan opened his eyes, right before he told him to rest for the day, that they could train more some other time. Chan appreciated it, truly. His few hours of sleep left him with barely enough energy to walk.

The ship was looking much better than it did a few days ago, the insides had finally been fully scrubbed clean, and some of the doors were already working again. He felt his body relax as soon as he stepped into the main control room and started to hear people chatting and working as usual. The now familiar environment filled him with hope, especially since he could finally see progress.

Talboot wasn’t on the ship today, one of the workers let Chan know the man had the day off when he inquired about it. That was fine, it’d let him focus solely on his task. Even though he deeply enjoyed speaking with Talboot when he was working, it did slow him down a bit, and the fact that the man wasn’t here now made him even more determined to get this communicator fixed today.

Hours passed by quickly. The hyperfocus on the damned thing led Chan to fixing other connections within the unit that would eventually connect to other systems. People slowly filtered out of the room when their tasks were done for the day as the sun started to set. Until, eventually, he was completely alone. Thankfully, one of the warlocks working in the ship repairs had left a couple orbs of light to illuminate the area when he noticed Chan was planning on staying a bit longer.

With slightly trembling hands, Chan ran electricity through the circuit board to test it, the integrated indicator light finally blinked red, confirming a successful test. The positive outcome made him literally jump on the spot, and words flew from his lips as he started tidying everything up.

“Holy shit, holy shit”, excitement bubbled within him. Chan neatly rolled the extra length of the wires, tying them together with some insulating tape.

He crouched on the floor next to one of the main console panels, his shaky hands pulled it out with a bit too much force. The piece of metal immediately slipped from his hands and landed on the floor with a loud clunk, which made him wince slightly. Chan carefully inserted the circuit board in its place, taking a hold of the cable that connected the board to the entire communication system and finally plugging it in. The loud crackling sound over the speakers signalled a successful connection.

Chan stood up quickly, he tripped slightly when he stepped towards the console, clumsily hitting the metal panel on the floor, but it didn’t matter. He sat on his seat, and his fingers flew over the buttons as he entered the numbers he had committed to memory what felt like aeons ago.

“Come on, boys… Pick up, pick up…” His leg bounced up and down, impatient when the familiar ringing sound played over the speakers.

Anxiety clung to his every muscle while he waited, the thought that something might have happened flooded his mind briefly when he started expecting the worst… Until, finally, a crackling sound came from the speakers, accompanied by a voice. 

“Chan!”

“Seungmin!” Chan started laughing like a madman, and relief washed over him at the familiar voice of his crewmate. “Are you okay? Is everyone okay?”

“What do you mean if we’re okay?! Are you okay? We’ve been trying to reach you for days! What the fuck happened? I completely lost your track after you went into hyperdrive the other day!” Seungmin’s voice was rather panicked when he spoke, swearing left and right as he continued to inquire on their whereabouts.

“We’re fine! We’re alive, the Big Bad Wolf is damaged, though. Badly. That’s why it’s taken so long to reach out. Are the others back?”

A loud sigh of relief came from the other side of the line. “Yes! Jisung, Hyunjin, and Minho are all back. They suffered minor injuries, but they’re safe and recovering. Although the Shining Starlight is a bit damaged as well. Jeongin’s working on her right now”.

Chan let out a sigh of relief of his own. He brought his hands to his face to press his fingers on his eye sockets when tears started pricking his eyes. “Dude, you’ve got no idea how happy I am to hear that right now”.

Seungmin laughed at that, and even if the sound was slightly distorted over the speakers, it only added to that wave of relief coursing through Chan. “Probably just as happy as I am. We’ve been worried sick. Are you gonna tell me what happened or not?”

Chan explained the chain of events that led them to where they were now. How the attack drone followed them into hyperspace, and shot them down, how they crash-landed, and the appalling state the Big Bad Wolf ended up in… Everything but where they were, and who had helped them, but he did promise Seungmin that he’d tell them the details once they were back at their base.

“How the hell did you guys survive that?” Seungmin was clearly incredulous after Chan finished his dramatic rendition of the events, and he seemed to also be slightly stunned at the amount of information.

“Fucking Felix”, Chan chuckled. “He pulled one of his magic tricks and effectively saved our asses”.

“Okay, I think this might be our closest call to death so far. I’ll have to carve it on the wall later”, Seungmin laughed, and the memory of their endless list of near-death experiences carved on the base’s walls brought a melancholic smile to Chan’s lips.

“Listen, Seungmin. I’m going to send you the intel”, Chan fell into his Rebel Leader mode as soon as the words left his mouth, taking the small data transfer device from his pocket and plugging it into the console. As soon as it was properly linked to the console, he started pressing buttons so he could send the information over to his crewmate. “Give it to Minho, he knows what to do with it”.

“Roger that, captain”, Seungmin remained silent for a moment, decrypting the data on his side. Once everything had transferred over, he finally spoke again. “What the fuck does this mean?”

“I have no idea. Sounds like a bunch of jargon to me, but that’s what Dall wanted”, Chan answered truthfully. He’d had the chance to go over the information while he was initially extracting it. It was honestly a bunch of random words like shadows, springs, among many others that didn’t make a whole lot of sense to him when combined together. He felt oddly reassured that Seungmin felt the same way. “Speaking of which… any news from Dall?”

“Not really… Minho’s been checking daily, but it’s radio silent so far”, Seungmin’s words didn’t really surprise him. Dall often wouldn’t communicate for weeks at a time. And when they did, it was mostly to send new missions, updates, or the very sparse words of encouragement.

“When will you be back?” Seungmin’s voice pulled Chan back from his thoughts.

“Probably as soon as the ship’s up and running… It might take a while, she’s pretty fucked up right now. Don’t worry about us, just make sure you send that asap and take care of yourselves”.

Their conversation picked up from there between the two. Seungmin gave him updates on the mission that had been led by Minho along Chan’s. How Hyunjin managed to flirt his way out of a guard port filled to the brim with Charmer supporters… How–had it not been by Jeongin’s quick guidance as their tracker–Jisung almost got them caught when he had returned to the same guard port to release a bunch of animals that were trapped there, effectively wreaking absolute havoc in the area… How Minho managed to surpass his previous best score of his favourite game of punch as many people unconscious as possible–all while they still successfully freed the enslaved civilians they had originally gone to that planet for.

Chan felt very proud of his crewmates–his friends, his brothers. Every time they managed to fulfil one of their many missions and they lived to tell the tale, pride would swell in his chest as he was reminded of why they chose to take the path they did.

At some point during the conversation with Seungmin, Minho joined in. He was clearly relieved when he greeted Chan, and Chan told him how they were, and briefly explained the situation they were going through with the Big Bad Wolf. Minho excused himself at some point, so he could finally go and send over the intel to the rebel leader.

After a while of just talking to Seungmin, Chan noticed the sun had already set outside of the ship, and he figured Wang Eun would be at his door soon. So he said his goodbyes to Seungmin, but not before he promised to call again the next day to catch up with the others too.

The castle corridors were especially animated in the early hours of the evening, with people walking left and right as they hurried to finish their evening tasks. A few maids stopped to greet Chan since he had slowly become acquaintanced with many of them by now during his many strolls around the castle.

“I wouldn’t go in that direction if I were you. Their Majesties and Lord Skallarg are arguing over there”, one of the maids told him. An advice which he decided–against his better judgement–to disregard completely. If anything, the moment she said that, he had already decided that’d be his next destination.

Once he was close enough, Chan could hear Skallarg’s despicable voice over the hustling of people coming in and out rooms. The many castle workers seemed to pay no mind to the scene, as if they had become desensitised to the occurrence. 

“Her Majesty took them in, Your Majesty! Completely overruling my judgement! They destroyed the royal gardens”, Skallarg’s face was red, his whole body was tense when he gestured outside the windows, speaking to the High King as if the Queen wasn’t even standing right next to him.

The Queen was seething, her hands were slightly shaking while she heard the man speak. Chan’s eyes might’ve been tired from staring at tiny circuits all day, so he might’ve been seeing things, but, to him, it looked like her hair was swaying the tiniest bit, even when there was no current coming from the windows.

The High King’s voice was completely level when he addressed the man, as if what he was saying didn’t concern him at all. “You know we take people in all the time, Skallarg. Regardless of how they arrive here, we help. Besides, she is the Queen of this planet, your Queen. You can advise her all you want, but she will always have the last word, and you know it”.

“I have to correct you there, dear brother. He cannot advise me on anything. I don’t care about what he’s got to say”, she was stern, firm in her statement. There was clear restraint in her words, and the tremble in her hands increased slightly.

Her hair was definitely moving now.

Skallarg’s face grew redder, now addressing the Queen directly. “They don’t deserve to be here! This castle is for Liraleans only!”

“They’re my guests!” Her Majesty shouted. The energy that had been collecting around her released abruptly,  and the shockwave hit the numerous paintings on the walls, which immediately clattered loudly to the floor.

Skallarg winced. The High King grabbed Her Majesty’s upper arm, rather forcefully. When he spoke to her, his tone was still level, if only a bit stern. “Calm. Down”.

Her Majesty yanked her arm free from his grasp, defiant when she addressed her brother. “I will not. You”, she pointed to Skallarg, and the man immediately recoiled. “Never say anything like that ever again. Not in front of me, not in front of anyone. In case you’ve forgotten, our parents are dead. That archaic way of thinking won’t be tolerated here anymore. I’ll invite whoever I want, whenever I want, and you must show them the same level of respect as you would show any Liralean”.

As if she was communicating with him without saying a word, and with a heavy gaze, the Queen gave the High King one final, furious look. She turned around and started walking away from the two men, right in Chan’s direction.

When she walked past him, it was almost like she hadn’t even registered his presence, and the air around her–still thick with her energy–almost made him shudder.

The High King’s eyes locked with Chan’s for a brief moment. A look of what Chan could only describe as curiosity crossed His Majesty’s features when he eyed Chan up and down. The exchange lasted only a few seconds, until he turned back to Skallarg, grabbed his arm, and pulled him in the opposite direction with orders of ‘Come with me’.

Maids gathered around the area to pick up the fallen paintings, assessing any possible damages. They honestly didn’t look particularly surprised or moved by the scene at all as they worked.

As soon as the High King and Skallarg were out of his sight, Chan started to feel it, that pull that tugged him somewhere. He decided to follow it, and his instincts were suddenly on high alert as he walked corridor after corridor.

Stepping out of one of the many archways that lined the castle’s corridors, Chan found himself in one of the smaller courtyards. The light from the castle windows dimly illuminated the area, just enough for him to see where he was going.

After a few moments, he spotted the Queen. She was kneeling on the thick rim of a large fountain, with her head submerged deep within the basin.

Chan was slightly alarmed, until he saw her yank her head out with a frustrated groan, spilling water everywhere around her. He waited for a moment, watching the Queen turn around to finally sit down on the fountain’s rim, planting her boots firmly on the grass.

With slow steps, Chan walked closer. She didn’t look at him, her full attention seemed to be on her trembling hands, but he was sure Her Majesty had noticed his presence anyway.

Tentatively, Chan sat down next to her, close enough that he could hear the water droplets fall from her hair and land on the concrete surface they sat on.

The Queen didn’t say anything, and neither did he. They sat in silence for a while, she was just looking at her shaky hands, while he just looked at her. Chan’s thoughts raced, and the ever-present hum in his head seemingly changed shape. Comfort, comfort, comfort… the maddening chant seemed to be playing on repeat in his mind.

His instincts kicked in, and, against his better judgement, his limbs started acting entirely on their own accord. Chan took one of the Queen’s trembling hands, and as soon as their skin made contact, her eyes snapped in his direction, looking at him with her eyebrows high in surprise.

Without taking his eyes away from her hands, Chan took the hand he was holding and placed it on his free hand that was resting on his thigh. Her other hand got the same treatment, until he was eventually holding both of her hands between his own.

With a minute squeeze, he finally looked at her. She stared right back, and she seemed to be focused solely on his face. 

They stayed in that position for a while, sharing the comfortable silence while they looked into each other’s eyes, until her breathing started to even out and the tremble of her hands lessened. 

Chan broke the silence first, giving her hands another reassuring squeeze. “You okay?”

Her Majesty stayed silent for a moment, her eyes darted around his face, taking in his features. She eventually exhaled, and her shoulders slumped the tiniest bit. “No”.

A valid answer, in Chan’s humble opinion.

Chan hummed in response, and his thumb unconsciously traced circles on the back of her hand. After another moment of silence, he spoke again. “Wanna talk about it?”

She looked at him, thoughtfully. Ultimately, she chuckled, but it wasn’t a sound of mirth, it was more like a sound of defeat. “I’m just really tired, Chan. I don’t think I even have the words to elaborate more than that right now”.

“Mmm… Anything I can help with?” It was a serious offer, he realised once he said it. He was willing to do his best to help if she needed him to. It was the least he could do.

Her Majesty smiled at him. It was, objectively, a beautiful smile, but he couldn’t help but notice how… sad she looked. “You’ve already done more than enough”.

He wasn’t sure that was true, he certainly didn’t feel like it, but he didn’t say it. Instead, he remained quiet, looking at her while the movement of his thumb on her skin didn’t stop.

Chan didn’t really know how much time had passed. They could’ve been there for minutes, hours, and he genuinely wouldn’t have noticed. He found great comfort in the silence around them, in her gentle gaze tracing the features of his face, just like he did the same. He felt reassured enough once he eventually noticed her breathing evening out completely.

A smile spread on her face, a genuine one, and he could’ve sworn his heart stopped for a second. “Thank you”.

“Anytime”, he felt a smile of his own form on his lips.

After a few more moments of silence, she finally pulled her hands out of his hold, and stood up from the fountain. “I have to go”. 

Chan remained seated, with his hands on his lap. “Sleep well, Your Majesty”.

“Sleep well, Chan”, were the last words she said to him before she retreated back into the castle.

He sat there for a while, with his hands palm up, and his eyes trained on them, tracing every line, every wrinkle… With a sigh, he faced a very odd, and unpleasant realisation.

He didn’t like how cold and empty they suddenly felt.

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