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ahundredtimesover · 3 months

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I Want You to Stay (04) | 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, 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; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 11.4k

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 I'm getting slower with editing and writing so please bear with me moving forward! Also pls remember, this is a slow burn haha. But anyway, been loving your replies (I see you) and messages, thank you. I hope you enjoy this one!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

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

The events of last weekend remain in your mind, as you approach Jungkook’s apartment the next Monday and feel like your heart will leap out of your chest.

You remind yourself that he wasn’t angry at you; he’d even tried to apologize and didn’t make a fuss when you left the restaurant last Saturday. But still, the whole incident would make anyone feel agitated, and you know his capacity to feel and express that. He was inconvenienced and put on the spot, after all.

You enter, and shortly after, Jungkook exits the gym then greets you with a nod when he sees you. He looks more tired than anything. He doesn’t have a hint of frustration in his eyes, and you could only hope that he’d forgotten about what happened or, like how he is when it comes to personal matters, he’d chosen not to acknowledge it.

You bow in return, sneaking a glance as he walks towards his bedroom, with your throat drying up when he removes his shirt, briefly gracing you with a view of his glistening toned back right before disappearing inside. You wait half a minute before you follow him to prepare his clothes, giving yourself time to breathe before you have to face him again. You return to the kitchen and prepare his breakfast, looking up when you hear him walk in.

You approach him to do an act that’s become a routine for you, and for him as well, as he stands straight and unmoving while you tighten his tie and make sure he looks fine. Even when your fingers only graze his clothed chest, the memory from last Saturday becomes vivid, as you recall wiping his wine-soaked top, feeling the taut body underneath.

You shake your head at the thought, realizing that there are more things about that night that you should not acknowledge at all, including the heat you felt at seeing him in the washroom, a little exposed and definitely sweaty. There was that tension and the dropping of formalities that felt too foreign and quite disorienting. You don’t know him as anything other than the ‘Mr. Jeon’ you assist; seeing him as just ‘Jungkook’ was different. But you suppose that that’s the man you help everyday, and you wonder how much of himself he leaves behind in the office and how much of him now is just… him.

As you go about your routine during breakfast, you’re reminded that for Jungkook, there doesn’t seem to be a difference. How he is at work is the same as how he is elsewhere - serious, quiet, and detached. Except maybe when he’s with those women he meets at clubs, though. Perhaps the thrill and pleasure inject a bit of emotion and passion in him. You wouldn’t know, but at least it’s a way for him to take a break from the responsibilities he carries.

You scold yourself internally again. You’re not supposed to be curious; you’re not supposed to care. So you shake all of them away and remind yourself of who you are and your own distance that you should observe.

You get to your senses and proceed accordingly. You go about as usual in the morning with his meetings, and then he shuts his office so he could focus in the afternoon. You see his furrowed brows from the window, as he works on what seems to be the Arts Center again, given his requests for financial and marketing reports of the company's non-residential projects from the last five years.

You’re busy with organizing his Singapore trip and coordinating with the CEO’s office about the upcoming Appointment Dinner to formally introduce the new appointees, when he exits his room and looks through the folders lined on the shelf behind you.

“Where are the portfolios of our collaboration projects from 2017?” He asks.

“They’re in the archive room,” you answer, standing up to head there.

But he does it first, beating you to the corner area just off the hallway to the left. Your steps are obviously not at pace with his, and he’s tiptoeing to reach for a large folder by the time you get there. He’s able to retrieve it, laying it on the ledge as he goes through some pages.

“I could’ve gotten that,” you say softly, and Jungkook turns to you and wishes he hadn’t, as your pout makes his insides melt.

There’s something about your disappointment that you didn’t get to help him that makes his heart race a little, and while he knows it has everything to do with you thinking that he’d think you’re not doing your job properly, he still likes to keep the thought that you’d wanted to help him in the first place.

“It was heavy,” he explains.

“I’ve carried and pulled and pushed things way heavier than that folder,” you scoff.

“Really?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, trying not to show amusement on his face. “My cousin let you do all those things, huh?”

You frown at his attempt to catch you slipping. “I do many things in the background during events, Mr. Jeon, things that get everything functioning properly while Mr. Jung engages with the guests.”

Jungkook can only imagine how much work you put into getting those events hosted by the VP’s office running. Perhaps retrieving heavy folders is no big deal for you. But still, he doesn’t want to come across as a jerk for making you do something he can do on his own. He already was, he reminds himself, and you also definitely think he is; he doesn’t want to add to that any more, not after everything that’s happened.

So he just nods. “It’s a simple task I can do.”

Jungkook looks at the labeled boxes and folders. He’s got materials and design points to finalize by tonight. There are some more past projects he wants to go through to take inspiration from, and he finds another one he wants to look at, underestimating its weight, which is why he jerks in surprise when he feels how heavy it really is.

You’re there on cue, as if you knew it was gonna be too much. And if he’d asked you, you probably would’ve told him so.

You’re standing much closer to him, your fingers grazing against his as you hold onto the folder. It’s almost familiar, only because you stood this close to him that night at the restaurant, too - when you cleaned him up, and then when you handed him his clothes in the washroom. You actually stand this close to him everyday when you fix his tie. Perhaps after all that, it’s only dawning on you just how little space between you two there are sometimes, and you’re suddenly hyper aware - of the distance, of his scent, of the way he’s looking back at you when you turn to look at him.

“It was heavy,” he admits.

And for some reason, you laugh. Maybe it’s the slightly embarrassed look on his face or it’s just your defense mechanism when you feel tense but you let out an amused sound, with it fading as the time goes by and you realize you’re actually laughing at your boss.

“Making fun of me, Ms. Cho?”

“I… I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you stammer, stepping away.

You’re about to mentally curse yourself until you see his slight smirk, and the thought of him making fun at you by scaring you like that makes you feel better. He may have some sense of humor after all.

Still, you bow in apology, and there’s a moment when you meet his eyes, with something not anger or frustration in them, that you both linger, as if there are things both of you feel that need to be said; you just don’t know what they are.

“Did the dry cleaners get to remove the wine stains?” You manage to get some words out, turning away now as you bring up last Saturday night.

“Uh, yeah,” he responds. There’s a pause before he continues. “Did… did you get home okay?”

You’re too stunned to be able to answer right away but you eventually do. “Uh, yeah. Jimin, Soomin, and I just bought food and then went to my apartment. And you?”

“I did,” he nods.

“Did… did Hajoon bother you again after we left?”

“No. Well, he just kept giving me the death stare but he didn’t do anything else,” he says.

“I really don’t know what got him so worked up,” you sigh, feeling bolder at having to share this much. “He’s not usually confrontational and he knows I hate it. That shouldn’t have happened.”

“People have their reasons for getting angry. They’re not always valid, though, and definitely not always warranted,” Jungkook replies, briefly looking away. “Whatever it is, at least he didn’t throw a punch.”

“Oh, if he did, that is it for me,” you chuckle, feeling unfamiliar with being able to talk to Jungkook so casually like this. “Goodbye, job; goodbye, Seoul. I will probably just work as a librarian somewhere.”

Jungkook wants to say he wouldn’t accept your resignation for that reason, that he doesn’t want you to go anywhere, actually. But that’s too much and probably inappropriate to say given the circumstances. So he just hums and turns back to the folder and looks through them.

“I’ll need these back in my room,” he says, carrying one while you take the other.

You appreciate the topic change, knowing you won’t know how to handle more if the conversation deepens. You both walk back quietly, as it dawns on you that the casual nature you both talked to each other is a little disorienting.

You’re not used to him sounding concerned.

He’s not used to you being honest and open.

Perhaps seeing a different side of him isn’t all that bad, you think.

Jungkook wants to believe it’s your way of forgiving him, too, even if he hasn’t actually apologized for anything.

The minute it takes to return to your respective desks ends, and Jungkook is back to focusing on his designs while you get back to making reservations. You peek inside his room every once in a while to check if he’s okay, if there’s anything else he needs, if there’s anything you can do for him.

The frustrated look on his face isn’t new, but the fact that it isn’t directed at you, is. So is the worried feeling you have for him. You’re a mix of emotions from everything that’s happened this past month, so you can’t deny that the way he’s been acting towards you has left you confused, maybe even doubtful. You have to be cautious, you think, and not fall into a comfortable dynamic with him so easily.

The next day, he’s back to being serious once again, as you sit to his right in the restaurant that will be catering the upcoming VP event. Jungkook decided for both of you to have the food tasting for lunch, and so a spread has been prepared for him to make the final decision on the menu.

You’d like to think that you’ve developed quite a sophisticated palate, all thanks to the numerous events that Hoseok asked you to organize in your three years working under him. With this upcoming dinner party a sort of introduction of Jungkook and the project to the art world, he wants to make sure that he serves only the best to the guests, which is why he carefully tastes each dish, trying to determine the best combination that’s both delicious and creative.

You give your comments, some of which he acknowledges, and you feel like you’re both making headway in terms of the menu, as well as with his disposition for the day, given that he’s looking more comfortable and relaxed than he was half an hour ago.

That is, until he sips his wine for the first time, and clears his throat.

“I believe I specifically said that lunch today is a work matter, Ms. Cho,” he says sternly. “You’re on the clock and this isn’t a break.”

“Y—yes, Mr. Jeon,” you answer, curious as to the reason for his statement.

“Then why is your boyfriend waiting outside the restaurant, trying to catch your attention?”

“What?” You exclaim, turning around and spotting Hajoon standing by the lamppost, his sullen eyes getting a bit of light in them once they meet yours. “I… I don’t know,” you respond. “I haven’t spoken to him since Saturday.”

“How did he know you’re here, then?”

“His restaurant is just up the street,” you sigh. “He must’ve seen me when he was walking there. This area is his usual route. Please just ignore him.”

“I can’t when he’s in my peripheral vision. He’s still the man who got in my face the other night. He clearly wants to speak to you and I don’t think he’ll go away,” Jungkook reasons.

You look at him, waiting for his instructions.

Jungkook doesn’t like that Hajoon is there and he also doesn’t want you to speak with him during work hours, especially if it’s going to affect you for the rest of the day. But the man seems desperate and persistent; he really doesn’t seem like he’ll just let this moment of seeing you pass.

“You have five minutes,” Jungkook says.

You don’t exactly want to go out there; there’s a reason why you haven’t returned Hajoon’s texts or calls these past days. But you can imagine that it’s a worse look for him to be staying around; a distraction during this work matter that you know Jungkook would not appreciate one bit. So you stand up and tell him that you’ll be back shortly.

Jungkook returns to the dish in front of him, noting that the Japanese mushroom risotto is a good addition to the set menu. The event his office is planning includes a sit down dinner and then an offering of canapés and champagne while guests walk around the venue to see the presentation of the Arts Center in large boards and on screens. It will be a good way for him to socialize - something he’s incredibly nervous about because it’s not his strongest suit, nor is it something he enjoys, unlike his cousin. The primary goal, though, is to introduce the project. Jungkook needs important people on board so they can be involved in the launch and the succeeding special activities.

He tries to think about that night and how he wants to design the place. He tries to think of other things, too, like the music and decor, even if he’d said that’s for both of you to plan next week. He’s even thinking of a follow up already, even if his management support team is in charge of that and would be dependent on how this first one is gonna go.

Jungkook tries to think of anything, really, just so he won’t constantly be glancing at you in his periphery, as you talk to the man from the other night and possibly make up. You did leave him at the restaurant last Saturday; you also did clarify that you’re not together. You just said you haven’t spoken since then, so it’s safe to say that both of you aren’t in good terms.

Jungkook can only assume, though. He doesn’t know the story, nor would he ever; he reminds himself he shouldn’t be thinking about it in the first place. He was never one to be privy to his staff’s personal lives; he spent most of his time with Lucas but didn’t know more than his family's composition. Jungkook doesn’t even recall knowing if Lucas had a partner, or if his then-assistant even mentioned it.

But clearly, Hoseok knows more about you than Jungkook would’ve expected. Perhaps it’s just how his cousin is, or maybe the time spent together just created that environment where it’s natural or normal. Maybe it’s the culture that his father encouraged; his old man is quite close with Mr. Ri - his former chauffeur and bodyguard - and Mrs. Myung - his executive assistant, after all.

But it’s not what Jungkook is used to; it’s not how he spent his few years in the Singapore office because like always, all he did was work and party. His mentor in graduate school also advised him that professional lines are ones he shouldn’t cross. Though Jungkook never really knew what exactly those were, he just dared not get close to anyone or be remotely interested at all, and that never caused him any problem. He’s always been safe where he was, guarded and unbothered.

But ever since you walked through those doors at Hoseok’s office that first Friday, Jungkook has been finding himself skirting near the boundaries far too often, and it’s only been a month. It began with making sure you’re eating well and that you’re safe on the way to work; he convinces himself that’s human decency, although he never really bothered much before.

And between wanting you to get proper rest before your trip to your hometown, to seeing you with that man from last weekend and being so bothered by it that it caused a scene, Jungkook’s internal alarm bells are ringing, telling him that he’s getting too interested, too close. It doesn’t help that he finds you attractive, something he doesn’t have control over. What he does have a say in is how he responds to it, and that has been incredibly tough, especially given the weekend he’s had.

He’d spent the rest of it trying to keep his mind off you - the way you looked in that outfit, the way your touch sent shivers down his spine, the way you’d looked at him worriedly… And when you walked out of that restaurant, he wondered what you were thinking, how you were feeling, how you’d be spending the rest of the night, and if you were gonna be home okay. He hasn’t really stopped since.

Even now, as he stays in his seat and tightly grips his glass of wine at the scene unfolding outside.

You’re standing with your arms crossed - setting the boundaries, and perhaps signaling your detachment, though he can’t see your face. The man, on the other hand, seems emotional, the tinge of sadness evident on his face. But there’s a mix of frustration and anger, too, as his arms flail around. He points at you, then at himself. His voice seems raised; Jungkook swears he can see the veins from the man’s neck popping out while you… you’ve got your head turned to the side, your body not eliciting much of the emotion the way the man’s is.

Jungkook stops himself from making an excuse for you to come back inside, just so he can pull you away from a conversation that you don’t seem to be wanting to have. But he knows it’s not his place, and the man might make a scene again if Jungkook decides to step in. You know how to stand up for yourself; you’d done it to him, he reminds himself. You’ll do what you need to do, whatever it is.

The man heaves, as whatever monologue he was giving ends. He reaches out to you, perhaps making a final plea, but you step back, widening the distance. It’s what prompts him to bow his head and turn around, leaving you by the lamppost on your own.

Jungkook sighs in relief now and he waits for you to return, but he’s surprised when you stay rooted in your spot, your arms wrapping around yourself despite the heat outside. He worries when you enter, your head bowed down and unable to look at him.

He wants to ask how you are, but he’s unsure if he’s ready for your answer, knowing that there isn’t much he can do anyway. So he goes with what he knows - detachment.

“I’ve chosen the last two dishes,” he says. “They’re serving the desserts soon.”

You turn to him immediately, your misty eyes painted with worry meeting his own.

“I didn’t think I was away that long,” you state, worried about the time you left your boss waiting while dealing with a personal matter that for the first time made you wish you were stuck with Jungkook instead. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon.”

He didn’t expect you to look so upset. He’s terrible at comforting people, but even if he wasn’t, he doesn’t know if he’d manage to comfort you. So he just shrugs and says that they were straightforward dishes.

You both try the desserts then the canapés, exchanging thoughts about all the options before shortlisting your chosen dishes. By the time the food tasting is over, you’re stuffed and set for the rest of the day.

You try not to look at Jungkook. You don’t know if he’d seen how your conversation went with Hajoon, but if he had, he could probably tell what was going on even if he couldn’t hear anything.

He’s had his moments, but you’ve never seen Hajoon look that upset and emotional, and you stood there, afraid to face all his feelings that you didn’t know what to do with, all those words that you didn’t know how to take. You’re usually one who’s able to let negative things said to you just go over your head, but something about what he’d said today hit you; you know it’ll take you until tomorrow to get over them.

But you try to get through the rest of the day the way you usually do - going through reports, organizing schedules, finalizing tomorrow’s presentation, and then working on the revised interdepartmental guidelines that Jungkook tasked you to do.

There are draft letters you send to him, thinking that you’ll work on some administrative matters while he reviews them, but you’re surprised when he calls for you 10 minutes later, saying the letters are approved and you can send them in the morning. You’re left wondering, given that anything you submit to him usually goes through intense scrutiny. Perhaps you’re not used to this easy pass, but you try not to overthink it, given the day you’ve had.

“You can go home, Ms. Cho,” he says as he types away.

It’s 5:30 PM. Usually this time, he’s still handing you things to review or instructing you on what else to do.

He seems to pick up on your silence, as without looking at you, he clarifies. “I don’t need you to do things you can do tomorrow. We’ll have meetings all day so I understand if you want to stay behind but you don’t have to.”

He doesn’t seem like he’ll be finishing soon, and you’re really not in the best mood so you nod and bid him goodbye.

The conversation with Hajoon stays in your mind all night and lasts until the next day. You’re in Jungkook’s penthouse the next morning, preparing his breakfast while he takes a shower.

With your phone snug under your neck, you relay to Soomin what happened yesterday. She was too busy last night for a call and she’s been bugging you since you got in the car - that you continue to ride as per your boss’ instructions - so you finally picked up, knowing how long it usually takes for Jungkook to finish.

“It started with him apologizing, then wondering why I haven’t been picking up his calls, then justifying his actions from last Saturday as him, standing up for me,” you narrate. “Obviously, I didn’t take those too kindly. But he said he wanted to be with me, like, have an actual relationship. And I said I didn’t want to then he just… he kinda just said everything he’s been keeping in.”

“Which is what?” Soomin asks.

“That I’m selfish, that I don’t think about what my actions may mean to others, which is silly since I was clear from the start about what I wanted from him,” you sigh. “He said that I act independent but that’s just a front, that deep down I’m a lonely woman who’ll probably push away every person who’s shown me they care until I have no one left and that’s why I’ll be alone forever, which he says is a deep fear that I have because I apparently told him that when I was drunk. And even after all that, he said he still cares about me, that he wants to try to be something for real this time, that if I just let him, he’ll love me right and make me happy and I just backed away, like, why would you—”

The clearing of the throat cuts you off, and you nearly drop the expensive plate due to panic once you look up and see Jungkook standing by the kitchen.

“I’m so sorry for taking a personal call, Mr. Jeon,” you say immediately, putting away your phone. “It won’t happen again.”

You bow your head down in apology, which is why you don’t see the way Jungkook’s eyes soften as he looks at you. Words like that hurt, and he can’t imagine what it must’ve felt like for you hearing them. Still, you went about yesterday with your accomplished tasks and completed deliverables like it didn’t happen, displaying a kind of strength that he could only hope to have.

“Yesterday was a tough, I suppose,” he states, choosing to ignore your apology.

“It was a normal one,” you brush off, walking towards him to fix his tie, not meeting his gaze.

Jungkook doesn’t reply, knowing you don’t want to acknowledge that he’d overheard your conversation, which he didn’t mean to walk in on. It did bother him, too; he suddenly wishes he’d fought back if that man was just going to speak to you that way.

There’s a sadness in your eyes that he tries not to mind and which you try to trivialize. Perhaps the man matters that much to you for you to be feeling this bad; Jungkook doesn’t really know what to do with that thought. So he tries to brush it off, too, telling you instead to be ready for today’s meeting with his father.

You ask if he’s checked the presentation you worked on, as you added things from the last time. He nods and says he only added minimal details that he came up with last night, and you check to find that he indeed just made minute changes, another thing that you’re thankful for yet wary of, especially given how critical he was about your work in the beginning.

You continue with your morning routine of debriefing about yesterday’s meetings, then you finalize the Arts Center event’s menu in the car. When you arrive at the office, you wait patiently as he goes through some reports that you’ve checked, then he reviews some memos that he asked you to work on.

The last one finishes faster than you expected. It seems now that his comments are what you look for, only because it reminds you that he hasn’t changed; somehow that seems like a better thought to have than him suddenly being lenient or lowering his standards for you for some unknown reason. He’s definitely witnessed some of your low moments; you don’t want to think those have anything to do with how he’s been lately.

The meeting with the management support team ends before lunch time, and you work on the minutes and the other things Jungkook had asked of you during the time that he meets with Yoongi in his office. That takes another half hour, and by the time they’re done, you’re done with your tasks, too, so you send those documents to Jungkook for checking in the afternoon.

Another one off the list, you think to yourself. At this point, you’re just going over all your deliverables with a focused mindset and waiting for the day’s end so you can spend time for yourself, just on the couch watching variety shows and movies until the weekend comes when you can do that for longer hours.

Having your friends over or traveling to Daegu are the only other things you look forward to. You used to look forward to spending the night at Hajoon’s, too; you could at least feel something pleasurable - the closest you could get to any form of intimacy that didn’t require you to bare yourself other than your body. But that’s a thing of the past now - there’s that amazing life-changing toy that Soomin got you last Sunday that’s got you thinking that you’ll be fine being alone for the rest of your life.

“Long day, huh?”

You look up and see Yoongi, his curious eyes scanning your desk full of papers, folders, and half-eaten biscuits.

“It has been,” you sigh.

“I see. It’s also only just 12 noon,” he points out.

“What a shocking revelation, Min Yoongi,” you grunt. “I don’t need to be reminded that I have another six hours here.”

“Hmm, just like me. So, what are you looking forward to when you clock out?”

“My leftover stir-fry for dinner that I’m going to add beef to,” you respond. “And The Zone. I missed it last Monday.”

“You and your variety shows,” he chuckles.

“What other reason do I have to laugh, hmm?”

“I’d say me, but you don’t find me funny.”

“You aren’t, sorry,” you smile, your first of the day, and Yoongi smiles back, knowing you haven’t been doing it the past few weeks.

“So–”

“Ms. Cho,” Jungkook’s voice cuts Yoongi off, as your boss stands by his open door with curious eyes that flit from you to the man in front of you. He recovers though, as he instructs, “the minutes are fine. Send it to the team now so they can work on their tasks.”

“You’ve read it?” You speak too soon, realizing a second too late that the words didn’t stay in your head. Your widened eyes don’t help you though, as Jungkook scowls at you.

“Are you asking me if I’ve read the file that I just approved and instructed you to disseminate?”

Yoongi purses his lips to hold off a laugh, and you glare at him because his teasing isn’t really what you need right now.

“I meant, uh, you’ve reviewed it already, sir? I… thought… you were going to prepare for the lunch meeting instead,” you reason, which isn’t even a lie.

“I have. Father hasn’t called me up so I just reviewed the minutes while waiting.”

You look at the file and see that nothing has been added. “And? That’s it?”

“Ms. Cho, are you questioning my ability to review?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowed as he starts to look displeased, although they seem harmless compared to his frustrated expressions from the past.

“No, Mr. Jeon, I apologize,” you say. “I was wondering if you didn’t have anything more to add, that’s all.”

“There’s none,” he clarifies. “Just send it to the team and uh… get ready for the meeting.”

He glances at Yoongi before closing the door.

“Questioning your boss’ ability to review now, huh?” Yoongi teases.

“Shut up. He’s just been weird,” you pout.

“That’s new. How so?”

“He hasn’t been an asshole for a few days.”

“Well, that’s quite the standard but I get you, I guess,” Yoongi hums. “In what way has he been out of character?”

“He just… hasn’t been pointing things out and correcting my submissions or asking a lot of questions about the reports I review,” you say. “Or just… you know, he hasn’t been him. He makes Mr. Ri pick me up every morning, he doesn’t email on the weekend, I get to leave on time, I get to eat properly…”

“In short, he’s been a decent boss recently?”

“I guess… I mean, it’s been two weeks since my mishap. He’s been quite tolerable these past few days. Maybe he hit his head and some loose screws tightened. Maybe he had a bad dream and the ghost of the future me visited him. Maybe he had a change of heart… though that’s highly unlikely. Maybe he–”

“Realized he hasn’t been good to you and doesn’t want you to go through the horror of another Mrs. Byun,” Yoongi interjects.

Your curious eyes prompt him to continue. “We had a meeting the other day and I saw a folder on his desk with her name on it. Formal complaints are only available in physical copies; other personnel files are stored in the server, so the only documents he’d have of her are the ones of her investigation. And he’d only be interested in that because of you. Those include your written statements.”

“As do you yours,” you point out.

“Yes, he’d totally be interested in how his design lead witnessed a manager’s abuse of power three years ago,” Yoongi sarcastically says.

You sigh to yourself. You’ve never told Jungkook about your experience with Mrs. Byun, but you wouldn’t be surprised if Hoseok or even Yoongi has mentioned it to him. It’s an experience you don’t like to think about; you were a young woman who had everything to prove, who had a lot to lose, and conceding to someone taking advantage of you seemed like the only way to survive. Not once did you put your foot down, and not once did you stand up for yourself. You experienced all those then went home to an empty house and found comfort in your own warmth and your own breathing.

You don’t want that experience to determine how others would treat you after. Hoseok was all things gentle and warm and you know that whatever you went through wouldn’t have determined how he treated you.

But Jungkook… Jungkook is different. This isn’t his default state. This isn’t how he normally is. This isn’t how you started. The last thing you want is for him to feel pity for all that you went through - in the past and recently - and then treat you differently because of it. He’s been less critical, less judgmental, and less doubtful of your capabilities. You only wish it isn’t for anything that he’d read or seen you experience.

“I doubt it,” you shake your head. “A man that perpetually displeased doesn’t just decide one day that he’d give the bare minimum of decency to his assistant.”

“Look, ___. Jungkook is a lot of things. He has a lot of feelings that he doesn’t want to deal with, and a lot of emotions he doesn’t know how to express,” Yoongi tries to explain. “I wouldn’t be friends with him if I didn’t believe there’s an ounce of goodness in him. And there is. Maybe him showing it just isn't good timing. He’s terrible at that, too. In fact, he’s terrible at a lot of things, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t try. It doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of kindness.”

“Kindness,” you huff. That’s quite a reach, but Yoongi’s always been a good judge of character. You do want to believe what he says about Jungkook; it’s just not an easy switch to flip. “I’m just trying not to care much at this point,” you sigh. “I come to work, focus on my tasks, do whatever I’m asked, go back home, rinse and repeat.”

“Is it satisfying, though?”

“When was work ever satisfying, Yoongi?” You laugh bitterly.

“Well, I could at least recall seeing you enjoy organizing those events for Hoseok and even joining him in some,” Yoongi points out. “I… I saw you smile a lot. There was a bit of satisfaction there, yeah?”

“Somehow, I guess. But I just had to make do. Hoseok was great, but this is also my job, really the only thing going for me.”

“What are you working towards, then?”

“I don’t really know. Maybe at 30 I should know but I really don’t.”

“Then why are you still here?” He asks, softly, desperately. “Why do you stay?”

“And find out who I am outside of all this?” You wonder out loud. “What if I don’t like her? What if she isn’t good?”

“Then this place hasn’t been good for you if you doubt who you are outside of what you’ve done here,” Yoongi says. “You’re just 30; there’s a whole world out there where you can learn who you are and be someone you actually like. I don’t know what’s stopping you.”

A lot of things, you think to yourself. But when you find comfort in discomfort, when you find security in chaos, and when you find companionship in loneliness, it’s not that easy to leave all this behind, even if deep down, you know it’s what you have to do.

“I don’t know, too,” you lie. “Maybe I’ll find a good enough reason one day and that would be it; I’ll be out of here and then I can find out if I like myself outside of everything I know.”

“I think you would.”

I did, Yoongi thinks to himself. He knows you’d laugh and agree; he’s moved on from you and things can’t be any better than how your friendship is right now, but he also knows you’re not the best at feelings, a similarity he realizes you have with the person you supposedly dislike.

“I won’t know until then, I guess. So I just gotta bear with who I am now,” you say.

There’s so much of you that Yoongi doesn’t know. It’s why he wanted to, why he asked you out for coffee and why he felt a bit of a heartbreak when you turned him down. But there are parts of you that he does know, that you let him see, and sometimes he finds himself wishing you’d find someone you’d feel safe enough with to share everything else you keep to yourself.

He keeps these things to himself, too. He’s learned that the only way to keep you close is to keep his distance; you’ll reach out if you need to, even if it’s something you rarely do. But what’s important is that he’ll be there just in case; what matters is you know that there’s a hand available when you need it.

So he just nods and takes your word for it. You’ll find yourself somehow, in whatever way you will. And you’ll find a reason to leave, whenever that is. He could only hope it’s a decision you’d make on your own, one that you won’t regret, and one that’ll lead you to find whatever it is that you’re looking for.

“So what, they want to put a stop to the Arts Center? They’re not the ones working hard for it. And quite frankly, I don’t need their help in any way to make it happen.”

Jungkook shakes his head in disbelief, anger manifesting in the way he clenches his jaw and groans repeatedly. It’s a sight you’re familiar with by now, and for the first time, you feel for him. It feels as if with this project, he doesn’t seem to have anyone on his side, aside from Hoseok, who’s been encouraging and helpful in many ways.

“They don’t want to stop it, son,” CEO Jeon says. “They’re merely questioning some of your decisions about the prices you’ve set out.”

“In short, they’re undermining me,” Jungkook groans. “This is my project. We’ve done the necessary research. If they read the report, they’d know. But clearly, they just want reasons to doubt all this, to doubt me.”

“It’s just the first project of its kind,” his father reasons. “The arts institution from 2017 was a collaboration and it wasn’t this big. The Arts Center just isn’t the usual commercial establishment that the VP office undertakes. The Board just wants to be clear about the profits because it’s not as straightforward as the others. They want to know how the property will earn.”

“Exhibition entrance tickets, bookings, rent,” Jungkook replies. “What’s not straightforward about that? Might as well say they don’t understand or even value arts and culture because that makes money, and if done right and respectfully, it can make a lot of money. I know what I’m doing.”

“It’s not like I didn’t make those points, son. It’s your first big project. I think they just—”

“Don’t believe I can manage it on my own.”

“They don’t think you can make the necessary connections on your own,” CEO Jeon finally says. “We all know how important that is. They doubt you’d be able to forge good relationships with professionals in an industry we don’t really have strong connections to. And with a project this big, it’s the company’s resources and reputation on the line.”

There’s silence in the room, as Jungkook seems to process the core issue that the Board has with him. You can tell it’s affecting him so much, as the anger in his eyes slowly turns into resignation.

It’s no secret that Jungkook’s way of engaging with others leaves a lot to be desired. From what you can see, he’s used to thinking more, envisioning, planning - the concepts and designs are amazing in his head and there are others tasked to sell that idea, to make it connect with people, to express why it matters, and to make sure it earns. That’s what Hoseok is good at; Jungkook never seemed like the type who enjoys that aspect of the work.

“You should’ve thought about my outstanding interpersonal skills before appointing me as Vice President, then,” he says bitterly. “Clearly that’s what the Board and everyone else value more than anything.”

“Hey, Kook. We know you’re good for this role,” Hoseok comforts. “And we believe in your project, we really do. Just focus on that. Make sure you’re constantly adjusting and refining the plans, and remind the Board that your ideas are even better when they’ve come to life. You’ve done it with your other projects before. Eventually you’ll be able to show them that you’re more than capable of forging relationships, too. That’ll come naturally. But in the meantime, you just have to give them something to make them believe it’ll be good for the company and our image in the long-run. Make them envision it.”

“I have,” Jungkook argues. “And I’ll keep doing that. I just need father to be on my side. I just need him to back me up, to trust me and every single one of my decisions.”

You’ve never heard desperation in Jungkook’s voice until today and you’re surprised with how much it’s affecting you, not just because you know how much effort he’s put into conceptualizing the place but because you’ve come to believe in it, too.

“Ms. Cho.”

CEO Jeon’s voice pulls you away from Jungkook, and you turn to the older man and ask if there’s anything he needs.

“Your thoughts,” he responds. “What would the Arts Center mean for the company? Do you think it will yield profits?”

They’re not questions that are new to you. Hoseok would often ask you these things about the smaller projects that go through him. CEO Jeon has asked you the same things in informal situations before, not so much to gain new insight - although he claims that your thoughts are interesting to him - but to gauge your belief in the project. He has a good read on people; you’ve observed him ask questions and pick apart not what they said but how they said it. You suppose that’s what he’s doing now, too.

“You’ve mentioned a few times that you want to expand the company’s market, Mr. Jeon,” you start. “And if I remember correctly, the Board agreed. Efforts to cater to expats and the middle class have been successful, but perhaps another type of expansion is in engaging the field of the arts and culture and its creators and consumers. More people from all walks of life and all over the world are gaining interest in Korean art and culture in all forms and the company has the resources to create a space for it. Like what the Vice President said, there’s an opportunity to earn from it while, of course, respecting it.”

You see CEO Jeon and Hoseok nod, a sight you’ve seen before as well. But Jungkook looks at you with curiosity, with a look of anticipation, as if he’s hanging onto every word you’re saying.

“The Arts Center was conceptualized and designed to be a hub for all things creative,” you continue. “Making general admission free makes the arts accessible to people, and once that appreciation grows, they’ll pay to see it, to experience it. Just go to any online forum and you’ll see that the public wants to experience art, not just observe it. They’d travel for it. The Center has spaces for that. I think that’s the ultimate goal - for anyone to be immersed in it. And that can happen through art pieces in a gallery or in a garden, through books, music, or spoken poetry, or even a photoshoot. Patrons can book rooms for private events, they can buy from the gift shop, they can do art themselves. It’s like a canvas and they can take part in creating meaning for the space. That’s what we’re selling. And that’s something people are willing to buy.”

“I see your point, Ms. Cho,” CEO Jeon says, nodding satisfyingly at you. “And it’s a good one.”

“It’s what Mr. Jeon has been saying all this time,” you counter. “It’s easy to understand and to buy into the idea… if only the Board would listen to him. If only they’d open their mind to what he envisions.”

“Well, that’s one way to get through to them, then,” Hoseok voices out. “Invite them to the arts event, treat them like creators and consumers, not as Board members.”

“That’s a good idea,” CEO Jeon says. “Maybe then they can see how you engage with the guests, which I hope you’re working on. And while you’re at it, work on your relationship with them, too. That means initiating conversations, seeking them out… It's part of the job, son. The Board are our stakeholders, too, you know this.”

“Aren’t some of them based in Japan and Singapore?” You wonder aloud, hinting at another suggestion that you want would come from Jungkook himself, given his scheduled plans to fly there.

“Yeah. Maybe I can meet them the next time I go,” he says, picking up on your thoughts.

Jungkook isn’t really fond of engaging with them. He always just left the socializing part to his uncle who used to head the Southeast Asian office. When Jungkook would be in Seoul, he let his father, Hoseok, and Ji-woo deal with them, with nothing but an acknowledgment on his end. He tends to stay at the bar on his own just to drown out the sounds. Yoongi sometimes joins him but most times, Jungkook finds himself alone even during such events; being with a lot of people is tiring, lonesome, isolating. With this new role, he’s started to accept that he has to do more. It doesn’t mean he’ll enjoy it though.

“I’ll have that arranged for you,” you tell him.

“Well then, that’s one way to revamp your image,” the older man smiles. “You just have to keep that up moving forward. That’s why Ms. Cho is there. She’s used to these events and these engagements with them. You’ll be fine.”

You give a reassuring smile to Jungkook - a genuine one, as you see it’s what he needs, given all that you learned from today’s meeting. He merely nods, and you think that should be enough of an acknowledgment from his end.

Hoseok wraps it up, going through a few policy-related items and then reminding the other men about upcoming social gatherings that they all need to attend. He asks to briefly speak with Jungkook, whom he pulls aside, while the elder Mr. Jeon approaches you.

“Thank you for standing by Jungkook, Ms. Cho, especially since I haven’t been able to show my support the way I want to,” he says. “I know it hasn’t been easy.”

“It hasn’t, but he made me believe in his vision for the Center,” you respond. “I’m starting to see what he sees. And it’s quite beautiful.”

Jungkook overhears the exchange, as he zoned out on Hoseok once he heard his father address you.

It’s something that his cousin picks up, as he repeats what he just said, totally unbothered by it.

Hoseok, of all people, knows how important it is that you have Jungkook’s back. He also knows how difficult that must be for you, given how the man has been towards you all these weeks.

But you’re unwavering. You’re able to withstand the challenges, and while Hoseok knows that you do have a tendency to also allow yourself to suffer through it, he also knows you’ve learned, and you’ll stand your ground if you need to; he’ll back you up, and he can only hope you know that.

You all exit the private room of the restaurant and head back to the office across the street. It’s 4PM by the time you return to your desk, given that Jungkook called for a meeting with the management support team after what transpired during lunch.

You immediately work on the minutes and action points, finishing two hours later and then deciding that you’ll work on your next deliverable tomorrow.

Jungkook exits his room, informing you that he’ll be leaving for an early dinner with Hoseok at a nearby restaurant, and that Mr. Ri can drop you off at your place. You’ve contested the service that was offered to you, and you and Jungkook settled on a compromise that you can go home on your own except for late nights.

“Mr. Ri will just be waiting for me anyway. No harm in driving you home tonight,” Jungkook says, knowing you were about to turn down the offer.

“Okay, sir,” you reply.

You do last minute things and pack up immediately to go home, taking this chance to get proper rest because you know the last two days of the week are going to be tiring.

The next day, Jungkook does conference calls and closed-door meetings, leaving you to do summary reports and other administrative backlogs that have your eyebrows scrunched the entire day. If it wasn’t for Do-hyun reminding you about lunch that you promised to have with her, you would’ve totally forgotten.

You’re in the zone as you go through the afternoon - two meetings straight that have Jungkook rubbing his temples constantly and you doing the same. But you pop in some aspirin and ginseng jelly next to his cup of tea, feeling satisfied when he takes them.

You go home on time, not wanting to be offered a ride for a consecutive night, and you get proper rest to face the final day of the week.

It’s all going well, as you find a rhythm early on as you work on your deliverables while Jungkook remains focused on his own tasks. You’re the one who reminds him now to eat his lunch, and seeing the blueprints sprawled on his desk, you offer to buy him one yourself.

He nods in appreciation as you state his usual order for confirmation, and you eat your sandwich while waiting for his curry rice bowl in the food hall. You get back to your tasks, thankful for the unusually quiet and uneventful Friday.

You see now how hyper focused Jungkook could get. He’s got his blinds closed but you can tell that he’s immersed in his designs and proposals and plans. He’s not allowing calls or visitors, and he only rings you to ask for coffee, which you’ve given him four times so far. Towards the end of the day, you’re the one who asks to go in, informing him that the Board meeting has been moved to a week earlier than scheduled; it’s two Fridays from now, which means his team has to finalize everything soon.

It’s his first one since becoming Vice President, and given how he used to question you, you’re surprised when he asks your proposed timeline to prepare for the meeting.

“Manager Lee is already consolidating all the departmental reports,” you respond. “You can instruct him to finalize the VP report with all those by Wednesday; the presentation can be due on Friday so you can go through all of them. We can submit the report for CEO review the Monday after that and then you can prepare for your run through until the meeting.”

“Sounds good,” he replies. “I’ll send them an email with the instructions shortly.”

“Noted, sir,” you say. “I’ve also submitted the minutes of the past two days’ meetings as well as the policy guidelines you asked for.”

“Oh, right,” he says, taking his iPad. “I’ve looked through them. The minutes are good; you can disseminate them accordingly. I’ve highlighted the parts for the condensed version you’ll send to the CEO and the President. I also have minimal corrections and remarks on the policy guidelines and I’ve edited them directly on the file. Just proofread again and then affix my signature once you’ve finished.”

“Y—you’re done?” You ask. You hope he doesn’t pick up the shock in your voice.

“Yes, and I’ve read them. Thoroughly,” he answers.

You smile in embarrassment after the other day.

“Does that bother you?” He follows up.

“N-no, sir,” you say, knowing he’s waiting for an answer. “I guess I was expecting you to take longer because, you know, more comments. And you’ve been busy all day, too.”

“More comments… Is that what you’re expecting?”

“Sort of,” you admit. “I mean… you made a lot of them before.”

You pout in reflex as you realize how you sound. You’re basically pointing out how critical he used to be, and if you’re being honest, you do wish he still was. At least that tells you that he’s still the same, that no knowledge of your past experience with your former boss has made him change his disposition towards you.

Jungkook sees your pout, and he crosses his arms and legs to keep himself from doing something as stupid as wiping it off you. It’s a little disarming for him, if he’s being honest.

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” you clarify.

Liar, you think to yourself.

“Well, if I used to do it a lot and I still do that after a month in, wouldn’t it reflect poorly on you and me if you still haven’t learned from all that?” He asks.

You think about it and eventually nod. He does have a point.

“You’ve adapted. I’d be worried if you continued to do things the way you used to,” he adds.

You nod again, taking in all his words. Much as you appreciate them, there’s another thought still bugging you.

“May I be honest, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, your heart beating fast now as he looks at you curiously.

He nods anyway and asks you to continue.

“I don’t think you’d lower your standards or anything when it comes to my work,” you start. “So I don’t want to believe that you pity me just because you know what I experienced in the past.”

He looks at you questioningly, as if to ask what you’re talking about.

“I spotted Mrs. Byun’s files on your table,” you lie. “I assume you’ve read about how she treated me. And I… I don’t want to be pitied, Mr. Jeon. If it’s that, please don’t. Please don’t let it affect how you’d treat me. It wasn’t even that bad—”

“It was,” he interjects. “This company doesn’t tolerate people who abuse their power. I only knew about your case because I’m thorough with my work. And that includes looking into my staff and their past. I did it for everyone,” he lies as well.

Hoseok and Yoongi had mentioned something about a past experience and Jungkook did dig deep. It was so he could help you professionally, he convinced himself.

“You should also know that I don’t make compromises when it comes to the quality of work of my staff and that means I don’t pity people if they fail to meet my standards. But I suppose you think that I do because of how I was in the beginning,” he continues, surprising you. “I admit I was being too critical. And I don’t have an excuse, just that I absolutely hate change. I’m not good at managing it and I reacted in a way that I’m used to, which is not a good way at all. I know now that I was not fair to you.”

The apology doesn’t come, but you know that the admission means enough already. It’s definitely taken a huge burden off of you. You didn’t dream up all those incidents and it wasn’t entirely on you. That itself gives you relief.

“My father and cousin were right. You’re a fast learner. You pick up on the comments, work on them immediately, and adjust accordingly. It’s a good trait to have, Ms. Cho.”

“I appreciate that, Mr. Jeon.”

“May I be honest, too?” He asks, surprising you again.

You nod, anticipating what he’d say, knowing he’s never been this quiet nor looked this nervous in all these weeks you’ve known him.

“What you said to my father about the Arts Center the other day, I appreciate that, too,” he says. “I guess you could’ve said something general or basic but you didn’t.”

“Your father wouldn’t have minded what I said,” you reply. “What mattered was how I said it. I guess as the person who’s privy to a lot of things about the project, he sincerely wanted to know what I thought about it, if I genuinely believed in it.”

“Well, it was a good way to convince him. And it seemed like he believed you.”

“I’m not a good actor, Mr. Jeon,” you chuckle. “He believed it because I meant it. And he saw that I was on your side. As I should. I still meant it, though.”

“That’s… encouraging,” he huffs. “At least one person is.”

“I’m sure he does, too.”

“It’s ironic that people like Mr. Ri think that my father and I are so alike, yet we don’t see eye to eye most of the time.”

“It’s because you are alike. You both think you’re right all the time,” you joke, teetering on the edge and sighing in relief when he laughs, a sound you don’t think you’ve ever heard.

“You make a good point,” he smiles a tiny bit, something you also don’t think you’ve ever seen him do. “But I’m still adjusting to working directly with him, and in a bigger role, too. We'll probably butt heads a lot.”

“You will. I already know it. In fact, I can already see it,” you laugh again.

It’s a moment you share with him that you didn’t imagine you ever would. He’s being honest about his concerns and you’re giving comfort in the way you know how and neither of you seems to mind.

“I’m… I’m gonna need your help, Ms. Cho,” he says so softly, his eyes turning away from you. “I’m gonna need your assistance. Not just in seeing the Arts Center through but in everything - navigating this role, dealing with my father, dealing with people. I… I know what I’m good at. So I don’t really focus on the things I don’t do well in but this position forces me to confront those and I… I’ll need help.”

For someone who doesn’t seem to like being vulnerable in front of others, seeing this side of Jungkook makes you sympathetic. The soft tone of his voice, the lack of eye contact, the crossed arms… they’re familiar because it’s how you are, and you know it’s difficult to be this honest with another person, especially when it’s about what you need.

More than wanting to help him because it’s your job, you find yourself wanting to see him succeed, too, to see him manage it all. That way, when you do eventually leave the company and search whatever it is you’re looking for, you can rest easy knowing that he’ll be okay, that the team will be okay, that the Arts Center will be all that he imagined it to be.

“I’m here, Mr. Jeon,” you assure him. “I’ll do my best to provide you with the assistance you need.”

“Thank you,” he mutters, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say those words with such sincerity to you, too.

You bow in acknowledgement and head out, leaving Jungkook in a haze, as he realizes that in your presence, he’d done what he's been trying to avoid ever since you walked in his life - be honest. He’d told you his concerns, his needs, and it seems that his honesty is something you appreciated as well. There was that acceptance that he wouldn’t have expected from you, not because you aren’t the type to give it but because he hasn’t given you a reason to. But you gave it regardless; you let him feel that it was okay.

It’s another half hour before he’s packing up to head home. It’s been a tiring week and he just wants to have a long bath, watch sports, and drink a cold beer over grilled meat. He’ll probably get some work done but maybe he’ll drive to some resort out of town, have a good workout, get in a sauna, and have a massage. He’ll have a nice meal with his friends and then go to a club. Or maybe he’ll just stay in. There’s something about being honest that makes him want to keep to himself for a while. He’ll start with that tonight, as he turns down Taehyung’s invite to another one of his client’s party.

Jungkook walks out and sees your desk empty, but he does hear your voice coming from the management support team’s room, telling them about your weekend plans as well.

“I’m going to the film festival in Incheon,” you say. “And probably just stay at a hostel.”

“Are you going by yourself?” Do-hyun asks.

“Uh, yeah,” you reply.

Hajoon was supposed to go with you. He invited himself, actually, and you should’ve read into the fact that he’d wanted to experience your interests with you. You hadn’t minded, and that’s clearly out of the picture now.

“I usually go to them by myself,” you add.

“Well, if you decide you want to invite one of us or hang out, you can always let us know,” Chin-sun teases, knowing you probably won’t.

“Let’s wait until we’re not too tired and busy, okay?” You chuckle. “That way, we can afford to do whatever we want on the weekends.”

“Yup, that’ll probably never happen,” Do-hyun pouts. “When are we not tired and busy? It’s probably worse this time because we don’t get to laugh and joke around like we used to. Are we even getting a holiday? Will we have an out-of-town team building? Or dinners and karaoke like how Mr. Jung used to treat us to?”

“The team-building is budgeted so yes, we’ll have it,” you tell them. “And dinners? I can maybe suggest that to Mr. Jeon. And come on, no one’s stopping you from laughing or joking around. You can still do all that.”

“Yeah, but sometimes I feel like I’m not allowed to because it might seem like I’m not serious about my job because our boss is too serious and it doesn’t seem right,” Do-hyun whines.

And for the first time, you feel genuinely bad for how they think about Jungkook. You don’t blame them though, but the man you saw earlier who broke into a small smile is definitely capable of laughter; you just don’t know how to elicit it from him again.

“He’s just been under a lot of pressure, but he doesn’t prohibit you from finding joy in anything,” you say. “Just… give him some time, okay? He’ll come around. Let’s just focus on our work and then focus on ourselves when the weekend comes. So all of you, pack up now and go home to your families and your pets. We’ve got a long few weeks ahead.”

Jungkook hears a collective okay then heads out right away, the initial thought of saying goodbye to the team having dissipated. He can’t blame them for voicing out their frustrations over the change in how they’re being managed. Hoseok was loved. He built a competent team whose spirit Jungkook is afraid he’s now breaking. But he’s not like his cousin, and he doesn’t know how to reach out to them in a way that’s genuine. He let the pressure get to him too much early on and while he’s not the type to forge connections with his staff, he’s seeing now how important it is for him as Vice President to do that.

But it’s too much to think about for today. He’ll let this affect him a little bit and then figure things out. Based on what he heard though, he’s not on his own. You were on his side again, even when you thought he wasn’t around. There’s something about the way you stand up to him and stand by him that’s refreshing. There’s honesty there, too, and he’s learning that it’s what he needs.

He makes it to the elevator but then holds the door once he hears rapid footsteps. You mutter your thanks as you enter, and he feels the tension build as you’re together after the exchange earlier. He hasn’t gotten over that yet, so he’s unsure how to talk with you.

It seems like so are you, as you drum your fingers on the strap of your bag and focus on the door while you both wait to make it to the ground floor. Jungkook is tempted to offer you a ride with him but he decides against it. Even then, he slows his steps so he could walk alongside you, as you both head out the main doors.

“Get some rest, Mr. Jeon,” you finally say. “And have a good weekend.”

You look at him with sincerity in your eyes, your smile soft and assuring, something he’s never seen you direct at him before. It’s even different from earlier. There’s more understanding, he thinks. Perhaps there’s care.

“You, too, Ms. Cho,” he replies before entering the car. “Get home safely.”

You bow to him and wave at Mr. Ri before walking down the pathway to the street that leads towards the bus stop.

Jungkook lets himself be comfortable in the seat while he forces the image of your smile out of his head. The sun has set and it’s Seoul at its busiest on another hot Friday evening. There are more cars than usual and so movement is slow, but that’s how he sees you - walking down the sidewalk in the midst of all these people. And there you are, somehow looking at peace. There’s an air of isolation that surrounds you, but you don’t look lonely. Just… alone. There’s still that warmth in your eyes and your smile that he finds himself wanting to see more of.

This is when he realizes he might be in trouble. There’s a line he shouldn’t cross, but there’s this desire to get to know you, to know your thoughts and your feelings and your words. He reminds himself that he needs you, in a way that an authority figure needs support and assistance. He needs you to be focused and capable, and he needs to be the same.

With his attraction that he can’t get over, he knows that the only way to make sure that he keeps things professional is to keep his distance - not just physically, but more so emotionally. You’ll definitely be spending more time together and he needs to constantly remind himself of who you are and who he is. That much as he feels safe and honest with you, he can’t go any further; he can’t let you get any closer. He doesn’t know how he’ll do it, but that’s one other thing he’ll figure out.

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heartpascal · 1 year

Text

the world is brighter

▹— joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹— summary: joel is trying to be someone he’s not.

▹— a/n: so this is meant to be the reluctant daughter fic…. and it didn’t turn out exactly the way i planned :( not sure that i like it at all honestly, but i wanna put smth out for y’all and this is 13K words that i cba to rewrite so… love you.

▹— warnings: references to suicide attempt, familial loss, previous good relationship with (assumed) biological dad, blood, so much blood, murder (you kill someone), fighting, i think you could class this as dissociation/blackouts but i’m not sure (pls tell me if it’s something different), fighting, canon-typical violence, angst — please tell me if there’s more, ive been trying to keep up to date but i’ve written this fic over so many days. be mindful, this one might be kinda heavy.

▹— tags: @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @erensloveinterest @dazedshoon @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @sleepygraves @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @ilybbg @rvjaa @oliest19xx @pedropepsi @sunflowersdrop @truthfuleeyours (if you’ve been tagged it’s because you requested to be on my general taglist! if you want your tag removed, drop me a message! <3)

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Living in Boston QZ hadn’t been your idea. No — you never would have chosen the so-called safety of the walls, which were only filled with bad people and worse authority, but you had been left with no other choice.

Pronounced an orphan on your way to the QZ, you didn’t know what else to do. With nobody to guide you or advise you, you had gone ahead with the original plan, walking the final twenty-something miles alone, in some sort of absent state.

The journey was a blur, and so was the arrival, you only really remember seeing the green flash of the cordyceps tester, reminding you of all you had lost. Every time you closed your eyes after that, the shade of green haunted you.

They had put you up in a FEDRA school, and so you began your training to become an officer. You hated it, hated the FEDRA organisation as a whole, and hated being in Boston when the person who had wanted to be there didn’t make it.

You tried not to make a habit of sneaking out after the first time, but you couldn’t help yourself. Most days, you were so exhausted from your nightly adventures through the QZ that you got everybody into doing more drills. Not many people were a big fan of you, but that was the way you preferred it.

You liked being alone, really. Enjoyed the silence that echoed through your room, the absence of other people letting you simmer in your own feelings. Your father had always reprimanded you for wallowing in your own self-pity, but he was no longer around to do such a thing. So, you wallowed.

Between climbing out of your bedroom window, jumping across rooftops to reach a particular apartment building with an actual view outside of the wall, you spent your time disconnected from the hellscape you lived in. Everything felt so far away, so out of touch, and the only moments you blinked back to reality, you were dripping in blood. Down your face, your hands, so much of it that you didn’t know where it started or ended. Or if it was your own.

Everything coming back into focus at once was dizzying enough, and sometimes that feeling was so closely related to blood loss that you had been sure somebody must’ve stabbed you, must’ve finally managed to get past your survival instincts, must’ve brought you to your end, at last.

But then you’d wake up, blood dried, no sign of the looming figure of death in front of you. There was only one occasion where the blood must’ve been mostly your own, and that was a broken nose. You pretended not to be disappointed, each and every time. Despite everything you had done to survive, everything you still do, there was a darker part of you that hated yourself for it. That blamed you.

It was one of those times yet again, where one moment you swore you were paying attention in your FEDRA classroom, and the next you blinked, eyes opening to the sight of bloodied hands in front of you.

It was everywhere, you would swear on it, underneath your fingernails, between each digit on your hand, even dripping down your wrist. It was warm and clung to your skin, even when you wiped your hands against the jeans on your legs. You blinked again, finally moving your eyes away from your sticky hands, and you gulped down a lump in your throat at the sight in front of you.

You recognised the man — a snarky guard at FEDRA, one who always had it out for you. You could see a slither of the face that always glared over at you underneath all of the red blood.

It didn’t take much realising to know that you wouldn’t get away with this thing, that this would be something that killed you. If they found out, if, then you were dead.

You needed to know, had to be sure, if this was going to be the final thing, your final action, if you had actually killed a FEDRA guard. But despite that, despite knowing that you didn’t have another option than to look if his chest was rising and falling, you couldn’t draw your eyes in the direction. Even when you tried, your chin fell to your chest, eyes back on the hands that were cradling one another in your lap, feeling far too heavy for your arms.

With the sharp way your breath was coming into your chest, you were starting to realise that your hearing hadn’t returned with your sight, and you jumped when the realisation brought it back, a rush of sound hitting you all at once.

The distant sound of gunfire, the whirring of a generator nearby, the sound of your own hyperventilating breaths, it all echoed too loudly, far too much going on for you to comprehend it all. So much so that you missed the footsteps heading your way, missed the sound of crunching stone as somebody else stepped foot on the rooftop.

A hand against your shoulder had you rearing around, fists drawn back and pushing forward until they hit the person, hard, and the hand was immediately withdrawn. You continued forward, eyes blinking closed in a flinch as the hand grabbed your wrists, holding tight until you stopped trying to pull them away.

“Jesus Christ— Tess, get on out here!” The voice belonging to the person holding on to you yelled out, about as loudly as he dared, and you bared your teeth with clenched fists at the woman who pulled herself up from the fire escape on the apartment building.

“Jesus,” She echoed, looking between you and the FEDRA agent with raised eyebrows, a slight grimace, marring her features. She looked over at the man who was grasping your wrists in a bruising grip with a questioning gaze. “What the fuck went on here?”

“Get your fucking hands off of me!” You spat out, tugging your arms, trying to get out of the man’s grip as you grit your teeth, your mind still reeling with everything that was going on.

He stared sternly at you, “You gonna calm down?” When you responded with a more than angered nod, he nodded, releasing your wrists and stepping away, leaning to look at the FEDRA guard still lay at your side. He kicked the guy in the side, and there was no hint of a reaction. “Dead.” He told the woman, Tess, with an odd look on his face.

“Well, shit, kid.” Tess sighed, hands on her hips as she looked at the situation before her. She shook her head with a tut, and approached to have a look at the guard herself. “What happened?”

You just continued baring your teeth, metaphorical hackles raised high, and Tess just responded with a blank look on her face, a dismissive purse to her lips as she moved her gaze over to the man.

He tilted his head, looking between you and the body, “Could’ve been anyone.” He suggested to Tess, rocking his head from side to side in something like deliberation. You stared hard at the two of them, confusion still buzzing through your head.

“Could’ve been.” She agreed.

They shared a look, communicating between only their eyes, and they had no reaction to the way your hands clenched, your head snapping between them. You didn’t know what had happened, couldn’t understand what was going on, and you had no idea who these people were. It really didn't provide any reassurance, and your eyebrows lowered over your eyes, a glare prominent on your features as Tess huffed.

“C’mon, kid.” The man said to you, offering a hand to help you up from the ground. When you stared at him, that glare on your face, he raised his eyebrows in annoyance. “It’s either you come with us, or you’re found here with him and hung. Your choice.” He told you, hand still offered out, and you grit your teeth as you took it, letting him pull you to your feet, and steady you when you stumbled, everything feeling a bit too real.

You focused on where you were going, rather than who was leading you there, as the two of them took you down the fire escape, hurrying you into an open window on the second flight down from the top. You didn’t take any notice of the bloody handprint Tess wiped away after you had managed to get yourself through the gap, instead looking for the doors.

“You can calm down, kid, we ain’t gonna hurt you.” Tess said, sounding snarky as she moved past you to their kitchen, where she helped herself to a glass of illegal alcohol. You raised your eyebrows, knowing that wasn’t a FEDRA-supplied bottle.

You huffed, watching the man look around the area before he shut the window, flicking the lock into place. “Can never be too careful.” You murmured in response.

“Ain’t that the truth.” Tess said, somewhat amused. “I mean if anybody here’s showed some aggression, that’d be you. Gonna tell us what went on up there?” She asked between careful sips from her glass, measured, or maybe, savouring sips.

At her question, your eyebrows furrowed once more, and you pulled your bloodied hands close to your chest, jaw clenched.

“No?” She asked, leaning forward with an expectant expression, and she opened her mouth to ask some more questions, say something else, but the man cut her off.

“Tess,” He warned, eyebrows raised, “Take it easy.” He glanced back to you, to the hands you held close to yourself, and frowned. With a nod of his head, clearly expecting you to follow, he headed down the hallway. You looked at Tess, hesitantly following the man as she nodded with an exasperated scoff.

He opened a door, revealing their bathroom, which had certainly seen better days. You wouldn’t exactly cheer for the bathrooms at FEDRA school, but jesus — at least it was better than what the general public got. “Head on in, clean yourself up. Don’t want anybody seein’ that on you.”

With some reluctance, you kept a hostile expression plastered on your face as you stepped into the bathroom, flicking on the tap in the sink and running your hands under it. Up until that point, you had remained ignorant to the way the blood clung to your skin, sticky and not quite cold, but now there was the opportunity to be rid of it, you became desperate.

The water helped, slightly, but not fast enough for your liking, resorting to the scraping of your dull nails against the drying blood, up until flakes of red started to melt away, colouring the water as it drained.

Their mirror was broken, and you couldn’t have been more glad. You were sure that if it had been there when you glanced up, if you had to look yourself in the face, you would be sick. You didn’t want to face the fact that all of this was real. You had just killed a FEDRA guard.

“Alright, that’s enough of that, now.” The man said, reaching into the sink and pulling your hands away from the stream of water when you ignored him. He shut the tap off, staring at you with that same strange expression, only glancing away to grab the towel that hung over the door. You took it, drying your hands hastily before you shoved it back towards him.

You were shoving past him before he could get another word out, barely even able to grab the towel as you passed it back. He blinked, a frown forming a deeper crease than usual between his brows.

“Listen, I—I really need to get back. Curfew is going to be over soon, I think.” You fumbled around the words, hurrying down the hallway you came from and spinning around in the room to try and reorient yourself. You finally saw the door you believed to be the exit, and headed towards it.

“Well, hold up,” Tess said, frowning and reaching out to you, stepping back with a slight scoff when you moved away from the reaching arms. “Daylight’s gonna break any second, you’d be better off waiting for curfew to be over with. And,” She added, tilting her head at you with a stern look, “You still haven’t told us what went on. We’re covering your ass, right now. If anything goes to shit it’ll be us keeping you safe. You realise that?”

You did realise something — and that was the kind of people you were dealing with. You’d heard from them, and not from the FEDRA teachers, but from other trainees, other students.

When the world went up in flames, FEDRA had been the first to seize onto power, and they held on to the pretence that they had never let go. But the world was still burning, and the people had begun rioting, and there was another opportunity for a power-grab. It was people like this who had taken that opportunity, who had made something of themselves in a world on fire.

You knew then that the way she had likely gotten that bottle of alcohol was through her own network. She was a manipulator, clearly, a blackmailer. She used the resources she had, and she definitely made the most of them. She wasn’t bluffing.

“So, what? I don’t tell you and you sell me out?” You ask, despite knowing the answer. Part of you wants to hear her say it, though, wants to hear the admission of being a bad person. Then again, maybe she was the good guy, you thought, after remembering the blurry image of that guard, lay still on the roof above where you stood.

Tess tilted her head, “Pretty much.”

“Well, fine. Be my guest. As much as I would love to comply with your blackmail, I couldn’t tell you. Don’t have a fucking clue what happened up there. I’d say try asking him, but…” You snarked in response, another bare of your teeth, another raising of your hackles. Tess was looking more frustrated by the moment, if the slight twitch of the skin of her brows said anything. She held herself together pretty well. If it weren’t for the stark difference between times like now and the times of blacked out memories, blurred images, you likely wouldn’t have even noticed. But it was like everything was so clear when you actually looked, and you noticed details that most people wouldn’t.

“Joel,” Tess sighed out, and even the cadence of her voice revealed the annoyance that was growing within her. “Help me out, here?” She asked, because despite every front that the man put up, he was still better with kids than she was. There was something about him, an authority, she wondered, that just made people fess up.

You looked over to the man, to Joel, to see his eyes looking at you with more recognition by the second, a pull to the frown on his lips that suggested he knew something that you didn’t. You weren’t a fan of the look.

He gritted his teeth at the whole situation, his chest aching with familiarity. Joel knew, probably better than anyone, that look in your eye. “I believe her,” Joel answered Tess, hesitantly, rolling his eyes when the two of you immediately looked at him with dumbfounded expressions. “Look, Tess is right. You’re better off sticking ‘round here ‘til curfew drops.” He told you then, his voice gruff as he leaned to look out of the window, seeing the light outside growing brighter each passing minute.

You huffed, but crossed your arms in defeat, shoulders slouching where you stood.

“But remember, you owe us.” Tess said scathingly, a crease running along her forehead before she turned away, heading down the hallway. She pretended that she didn’t hear the way you scoffed at her words.

You and Joel stood opposite each other, the room tense. He cleared his throat, uncrossing his arms so the two of you didn’t mirror each other quite so accurately, and he turned to grab his own glass of booze. “So, uh, you go to school? FEDRA?” He asked, talking over the sound of liquid being poured into his glass.

“Yeah.” You responded lamely, tapping a foot against the floorboards of their apartment, avoiding looking at the man.

“You know the guy, then?” He questioned, eyebrows raised as he turned back around to look at you.

The look you gave him was scathing, but you gritted your teeth and responded anyway, seeing no other choice. “I guess. Gives me— gave me a hard time for dumb things. Don’t know what happened last night, before you ask.” You said, correcting your words to the past tense, and your chest felt hauntingly empty, despite what you had done.

Joel shrugged at you, “Wasn’t goin’ to.” He responded, mouth set in a thin line before he took a long sip from his drink. “Get some rest, kid. Got an hour or so, yet.” He told you, seeing your exhaustion before you had even felt it, apparently.

You blinked at him, surprised. The idea was tempting, you could admit, but it didn’t feel like a good idea to go to sleep around two strangers. At any moment, they could have a change of heart. It was best to stay on guard, to be ready to run at a moment’s notice. That was the way you always played these type of things, and it worked out.

He drained his glass, shrugging at you when you didn’t move to head towards the sofa he had vaguely gestured at, and said, “Suit yourself.” Before he walked down the hallway, following Tess.

You waited there for more than a few minutes, so still, making sure you didn’t make a sound, waiting to hear when one of them would come back to keep an eye on you. You had never felt more confused when they didn’t.

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Ever since then, the world seemed to blur around you even more. And despite getting out in the hold at school after getting caught trying to sneak back in, it didn’t deter you, and they didn’t seem to suspect you of anything. You had heard the whispers about the dead FEDRA guard, though.

You tried not to listen.

Instead, you spent even more of your time sneaking out, but allowed that haze to fall over you with even less of a fight each time you went out. It was easier, that way, to let the world fall away and leave you with memories smudged in blood, that you certainly didn’t remember acquiring. Nothing in them was clear, and the cycle of waking up covered in blood didn’t stop.

More often than not, though, it was beginning to be your own blood. Apparently, your hazed self had become terrible at picking the battles you fought, and you’d blinked back to reality more than once when sparring at school, the jolt of pain when somebody caught an injury bringing you back faster than anything else had.

When you blinked back into reality this time, however, it was with warm blood dripping down your face, a hand gripping onto your head and keeping it upright when it began to fall to one side. You didn’t expect to see a familiar face, that was for sure.

“Joel?” You asked, incredulous, your voice slurred as you spoke through blood in your teeth.

“Well, she’s alive.” He said, not to you, barely even acknowledging your questioning tone as he glanced behind him to somebody you couldn’t see. Tess, presumably. “What have you gotten yourself into this time, kid?” He grumbled, voice gruff as he looked over your head for injuries, a grimace on his face at the amount of blood dripping down your temple.

His hand left your head a moment later, and you just about caught the weight of it before your chin could hit your chest, leaning back and settling the crown of your head against what felt like a brick wall.

A hand against your shoulder caught your attention when your eyes had been drifting closed, without you knowing they had even begun to do so, and you blinked them back open. “Jesus, how many times are we gonna have to save your ass?” Tess asked rhetorically, a grimace that matched Joel’s on her face as she looked at the state of you.

“‘M fine.” You grumbled, moving to try and push her hand away but only pulling your hand back with a hiss at the sudden throbbing pain that bloomed in your fingers.

Tess smiled sarcastically, “Yeah, sure you are. Those are broken, by the way.” She said, nodding down to the fingers on your hand which were bloodied and bruised, swollen and now so painful you had to grind your teeth together. Your knuckles were split, and you looked around, seeing no sign of a body, but you couldn’t help wondering what the other guy must look like.

You didn’t say anything else to her, just focusing on keeping your eyes open and attempting to remember whatever had happened to lead you to such a state. Nothing came up.

Even when Joel lifted your arm, hand gripping your wrist tightly as he pulled your elbow around his neck until he was holding most of your weight. He stumbled slightly when you did, and let out a gruff comment about you handling some of your own weight.

You did your best, but he ended up practically carrying you all the way back to their apartment, which was a couple of blocks. You vaguely wondered how they had even come across you, but figured you were in no place to ask questions.

“Remember what happened this time?” Tess asked, opening the door to their shared apartment so Joel could pull you through it, his arms straining to keep you upright. It was a much harder task when you were conscious but barely in control of your own limbs. He had thought about carrying you, but decided that was much too strange.

You shook your head, but realised she was facing away from you, and you hoped Joel hadn’t noticed your mistake. “Not a fucking clue.” You slurred out, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth as it tried to spell out the words.

Joel huffed out a breath through his nose as he set you down against their couch, his shoulders slouching as he finally relaxed his muscles, feeling a distant ache in his arm from being so tensed. He went down the hallway a second later, disappearing from your view.

“You are one lucky kid.” Tess drawled, the scene so familiar to the first time you met the two of them, as she held a glass of alcohol loosely in her hand. Distantly, you wondered if they had a glass every day, and if that meant they had shitloads of the stuff stored away somewhere, but decided you probably shouldn’t be thinking about it.

You scoffed, brows furrowed in aggravation despite the fact they had probably saved your lives. “Yeah, lucky. Sure.” You said, likely the clearest you had been able to speak since you’d woken up. Or become aware. You weren’t really sure which was more accurate.

Tess smiled, a sarcastic one that was full of humour and annoyance, “Oh, you don’t think so? Should we think about what could’ve happened if somebody else had found you there?” She asked, eyebrows raised, and you grit your teeth to stay silent.

You, better than anyone, knew what could’ve happened. You knew what people in this QZ — hell, in this world, — were capable of. So maybe you were lucky that Joel and Tess had found you, considering that they hadn’t ratted you in to FEDRA just yet, but you knew that the one thing this world would never generate is trust. They could be just as bad, or worse, as anyone else who might have discovered you there, bloody, injured, and completely unaware.

After all, you were at their apartment, with no idea why.

“She knows, Tess,” Joel grumbled, reappearing from the hallway and looking just as unhappy as ever. He sighed, drawn out and heavier than you had expected, and held up a wet cloth. “Come on, kid, get yourself cleaned up.” He handed it over to you, and ushered Tess to follow him back down the hallway, where they spoke in harshly whispered voices.

You wiped the side of your face, getting rid of the sticky blood that was coming from the side of your head. It was kind of difficult to do with no mirror, but you wiped as much of it off as you could get to before you stopped, breathing through the pain in your head, your fingers, the left side of your chest. You grimaced as you tried to wipe blood away from your split knuckles, your broken fingers. It hurt, and it was too real of a pain.

You paused when you heard Tess’s voice raise, “She’s going to get us caught, or killed, Joel!” She said, before her tone lowered once more, further discussion happening between them. You wondered what they could be talking about — they held no obligation to pick you up off of the streets. They didn’t owe you anything. As far as you were concerned, you didn’t owe them anything, either. Everything they had done was of their own volition, meaning you hadn’t forced them into anything.

For whatever reason, they felt the need to help you. You couldn’t pretend to understand it, but you did know that this couch was much more comfortable than the stones of whatever street you had been lay on were.

Joel came down the hall soon enough, a crease between his brows, and he grunted when he saw the poor job you had done of cleaning yourself up. “Get to the bathroom, kid. We’ll patch you up there.”

“Why?” You asked, before you could help yourself. They didn’t need to be doing this, so why were they? Tess was right, you were only a danger to whatever operation they had going on, so why?

“It’s either that or you carry on bleeding out on our couch.” Tess called out, rustling through something as soon as she emerged from the hallway, busying herself in drawers and cupboards.

You figured it’d be in your best interest to not bleed out on their couch.

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Weirdly, it was the fourth time you ran into Joel and Tess that everything seemed to fall into place. Except this time, it was you doing just that, running into them. Or more accurately, him.

You had hit against shoulders in your fast pace, sending various people tumbling backwards or stepping out of your path. Helpful for you, yes, but also helpful for the group chasing you. You tried not to look back, but the footsteps chasing you were growing louder and you had to know how close they were.

One look over your shoulder led to you colliding with somebody, and you cursed as it sent you spilling to the floor at their side. With a scathing glare on your face, your heart going a mile a minute, you looked up to see none other than Joel fucking Miller.

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me.” Joel murmured, eyes wide as he looked to where you had fallen after running into him. The alarm in your eyes made him move to face where you were looking, and there were three of Robert’s goons. He noticed, quickly, the knife that one of them was holding.

Without a second thought, he stepped between you and the group approaching, his hands clenching into fists as he grit his teeth. He wasn’t good at negotiating, at talking — that was more of Tess’s side of the deal. If it came to it, though, he could take on these fools. And he could play it off as if he was defending himself from the knife they were carrying, if need be.

They sputtered to a stop in front of him, a wary look exchanged between the two men, as the woman behind glared daggers at him. “Come on, Miller, move outta the way.” The man holding the knife said, tilting his head to one side as if that was going to make Joel listen to his directions.

Joel’s eyebrows set lower on his face as he looked back to you, with your wide eyes, and the way you scrambled up to stand just behind him. He huffed, a tired sigh leaving him, and turned back to the goons.

“Not happening.”

The three of them scoffed, incredulous, and the woman stepped forward with a sneer on her face. “What? You some kinda saviour now, Miller? Gonna start defending all the helpless little girls?” She said, voice venomous, but she stepped back when Joel went to move forward.

You, however, were not having that.

“Helpless?” You questioned, a scathing heat burning its way down your throat, “I’d like to see you go and ask your boss how helpless I am.”

Joel’s hand blocking your path stopped you from stepping towards the woman, your teeth bared at her, but you remained behind the man. You may not like listening to him, but he seemed to know what he was doing far more than you did.

“You bitch,” The final man said, no weapon held in his hand, but there was something dark about him that even Joel could see. Joel pushed against you, putting you further behind him as the man stepped forward. “When I—”

Joel’s eyes darkened considerably, and he knew from the expressions on the group’s faces that they had seen his face harden. “When you what?” He asked, looking down at the group before him, something violent in his words, as if daring the man to finish his sentence, to say something that Joel didn’t like, to give him the excuse.

“Can’t you just mind your own goddamn business, Miller?” The one with the knife asked, his lips drawn back in what was almost a snarl as he tried to catch a good look at you from around Joel’s shoulder.

“This is my goddamn business. Now run yourselves back to Robert before this gets out of hand.” Joel said, the threat in his words clear despite him having said nothing particularly violent. It was explicit in his tone, apparently. His gruff words were somewhat of a comfort to you, though, a slight relief that you could stop running, for now. You were also hoping that this meant your messed up shoulder would be your only injury of the day.

“Are you having a fucking laugh?” The woman asked, incredulous, as she stared at where Joel stood tall in front of you.

“Do I look like I’m laughing?” Joel asked, being met with nothing but deadly silence. You peeked around his arm to see the three of them looking like fools in front of him, their cocky, entitled attitudes falling apart under the weight of his words. The three of them shared a glance, gritted teeth and angered glares, and looked to Joel with a more than annoyed expression.

The man with no weapon caught sight of you looking around Joel, and pointed his hand at you, “Just you fucking wait.” He threatened, putting his hand down when Joel’s shoulders straightened, his legs moving to take a step towards the man, who quickly backed away alongside his two companions. They left without another word, throwing angry looks over their shoulders until they disappeared out of sight, at which point Joel turned to you.

“How is it that I always find myself savin’ your ass?” Joel asked, mostly to himself, as he looked at where you stood, a hand holding your other and close to your chest. He sighed, heavily, “You hurt?”

“I’ve been worse.” You admitted, though Joel knew better than anyone. He could see on your face that the swelling from around your black eye hadn’t long faded to almost normal, he could see the stitched cut along the back of your forearm, could see the way you winced as you attempted to shrug, give up halfway.

Joel nodded, studying you for a moment, his eyes drawn to the way your clothes had been ripped after your fall to the ground. He frowned. It was getting colder as the days went on, and he was already sceptical about the lack of layers you wore. He huffed out another sigh, a frown pinched between his eyebrows, and looked back down the street to ensure the goons hadn’t decided to come back. When the coast was clear, he turned back to you where you stood almost nervously, and he realised this was the first time he had seen you out during the day time. Every other time he had discovered you it had been the midst of the night.

“C’mon, let’s get back.” He murmured, keeping the mean look on his face in case anybody else came after you. For once, you didn’t say anything, just following along at Joel’s side, wincing every time you moved your arm.

“I remember what happened this time,” You offered, when the two of you finally reached Joel and Tess’s shared apartment, with you taking your seat on their couch with a half-repressed sigh. Your feet were aching, and your shoulder was killing, but at least you could rest here for a while.

Joel looked up from his rummaging at that, surprised by not only what you said, but the fact that you had said it at all. Each time, one of them prompted you for information, and you never remembered. Or you weren’t willing to share the small details you did recall. It was strange for you to offer such information to him. “Yeah?” He prompted absently, continuing to look through drawers after his slight pause.

“Yeah,” You answered as you raised an eyebrow at his actions, wondering what he could be searching for. Before you could lose your nerve, you continued, “Got into some stupid business with some guy called Robert, and then he tried to rip me off. I got kicked outta school trying to get what he needed, too.” You scoffed as you spoke, paying less attention to Joel’s reaction and focusing more on your annoyance at the whole situation. “I just… got angry, started hittin’ the guy. Then ran away, and they started chasing me.”

“What were you goin’ into business with him for?” Joel asked after you had finished, his eyebrows creased together. Robert had a way of getting to old world stuff, but everyone knew he was dodgy. Often times, it was double-sold, or broken. He was a scammer, and that was coming from Joel, who had upped prices to ridiculous amounts on the shit he and Tess smuggled in, per her order, of course.

You huffed, “I dunno, just wanted something. Doesn’t matter, anyway. He didn’t have it.”

“Well, you tell me what it is and I’ll see what I can do.” Joel offered, unsure as to why. He hated himself for doing this, for letting you in, for feeling some inexplicable reason to help you each time you were hurt. He couldn’t understand it. Perhaps, he could say you reminded him of someone who’s name he refused to speak, but that wasn’t right. You shared very few similarities with her, in fact, Joel would argue that you looked more like him. That lost look in your eyes, the blurred vision you saw through when he found you covered in blood, the memories lost to bloodshed… it was like looking in a mirror.

He felt some sort of responsibility towards you — as if helping you could heal his own wounds. Joel figured he should’ve known by now that something like that would never work.

Perhaps, he just wished that someone could’ve pulled him out of that state, when he was in it. He couldn’t say your reasons for being like this, hell, it could just be a product of the apocalyptic world you lived in, but he figured that one day, you’d grow to be like him. And god, he was hoping that you could avoid it. So if him helping you could do that, could steer your path away from seeing him in your reflection, he’d do it.

“I said it didn’t matter.” You responded, snappily. Clearly whatever you had been after was personal, held close to your chest. He couldn’t blame you for not wanting to reveal it.

Joel said nothing for a moment, but looked at you from where he stood across the room. “You got kicked outta school?” He asked, instead of pressing the subject. He saw a weight lift off of your shoulder at the change in topic.

“Yeah, got caught sneaking out too many times. Said I must have some place else to go, and that I’m old enough to know what the fuck I’m doing.” You said, rolling your eyes at the memory. You weren’t all too bothered about it. Learning about the world through a government’s perception wasn’t all that mind blowing, and you hated drills. You didn’t want to be a FEDRA soldier. So, in reality, it was quite the gift.

You had to think that way, too stubborn to remember how your father had always talked about you going to those kind of schools, about you getting an education that was more than him just pointing out words and teaching you basic math. He had never quite understood that you learned more from him than you would from anybody else.

Joel’s eyebrows pinched, a look that was almost concern shining through his eyes. “You’re just a kid.” He said, having no reaction to the way you glared at him.

“I can take care of myself.” You told him, firmly, trying your best not to think about how many times he and Tess had pulled you out of shit, likely saving your life. It didn’t matter. At the end of the day, all you had was yourself.

“Where are you staying?” He asked, eyebrows raised at you, as if he was proving his point by asking it, especially when you didn’t answer immediately. All orphans went to FEDRA school, until they were old enough to get sent to a position as a guard or they were kicked back out to the street. He knew you weren’t old enough to be put in that position just yet. After all, FEDRA didn’t allocate housing to people of your age.

You looked to your hand in your lap, picking at the blood still stuck underneath your nails. “Not important.”

“No?” Joel asked, just a hint away from mockingly. You furrowed your brows at him, a frown pulling at your lips in defence.

“No.” You answered.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You think now, that you would have never been in this situation if you hadn’t accepted Joel’s insistence that you stay with him and Tess. It had gotten to a point of normalcy, something so close to domestic that it had you sneaking out of their apartment, up the fire escape back to the roof where it all began to unravel, all those nights ago.

The stain of blood on the ground is still there, and you had been staring at it long enough that you were starting to miss where it began and ended. You still couldn’t pull the memories from that night from your skull, and you were starting to think they weren’t in there at all.

It had all led you to here, to where you sat, legs swinging over the edge of the air-conditioning unit on the roof of the building. Or at least, that’s what Joel told you these things were. You frowned at the memory.

You hated the way you had let all of this happen, had let yourself get closer to the people who seemed to always be there. They were more present in your life than any other figure, even before you moved in with them. It had seemed as if you only woke up from your haze when they pulled you out of it. You couldn’t begin to understand why, and honestly, you didn’t really want to.

All you knew was that this was exhausting. You had been present for the longest time you could remember since before your father had… well, since before everything changed. And it was all because there was a ball of anxiety in your chest, hammering loudly within the beat of your heart.

Maybe it was selfish, or foolish, maybe it was both, to feel so dejected over something that should be good. But it was all feeling too familial for your liking, and it was like a constant waiting game, constantly wondering when the other shoe would drop. There had to be some sort of catch, something would surely go wrong, because life with Joel and Tess was becoming too comfortable. You should’ve been happy for it. Perhaps any other kid your age would have been, but all you could think of was the time before Boston.

Images of a house, a father who cared about you, who bought you paints and brushes even when that would have been better spent on new boots for himself. You could remember the way the sole had been peeling away when you had last seen him, remember the way he had yelled at you, begged you to leave him behind.

Sure, you had listened, had walked away from him slumped against the wall of a decrepit convenience store, but you had never truly left him behind. All the times you had spent in Boston, in a subconscious state, there had been no more memories. Before Tess and Joel, the most vivid thing you could recall was your dad.

If you closed your eyes, shut out the image of the blood staining concrete, and focused hard enough, you could hear his laugh. Reluctant laughter was something you had often drawn out of him, because he found the only joy he had left in the world within you. But there was always that nagging worry, at the very back of his mind, reminding him that things weren’t okay.

Hell, the whole reason he had insisted upon leaving the house where you had spent most of your life was because he believed you would be safer in Boston, in a QZ rather than a small community with not enough firepower to cope with any hordes.

He’d been a firm man, with a furrow between his brows that you could now see in Joel’s face, and you hated it. Your dad had given up everything for you. Why were you seeing similarities between him and Joel?

“Come on, it’s time to get going!” Tess called to you, dragging you from where you were trying to conjure up an image of your dad that wasn’t his last moments. You huffed, pushing off of the air conditioning unit, and headed down the fire escape, taking your backpack from Tess where she held it out to you.

It hadn’t been your choice to go along with Joel and Tess, more of an order, given that they didn’t want to leave you alone at their apartment. They were running low on ration cards, not enough for you to survive alone, especially if anything went wrong. That was the whole purpose of their trip, they had told you, to get something they could trade for more cards. The two of them hadn’t explained to you the radio and music catalogue that sat in their apartment, but you had figured out that it must’ve been some sort of communication system. If you were going to go off of the way Joel’s head had snapped up when some song you didn’t recognise came on.

The three of you were setting off the next day, so it must’ve meant something to them.

Joel had said something about you being in for some kind of treat, assuring you that the trip would be worth it, despite the way you remained unconvinced. You didn't want to leave the QZ again, but part of you, that stupid childish part, was curious.

So you followed them.

You were quiet most of the trip, despite Joel trying to encourage conversation with you, a crease of concern to his face the more checked out you became.

In your own defence, you seemed to be on guard well enough when you retreated to that state where it wasn’t really you, and the whole trip was too familiar. If you didn’t focus hard enough on your surroundings, you would wake up and be with your father again, or you’d lack attention and hear that gunshot as you walked away.

It was easier this way. Safer.

You also didn’t expect for Joel or Tess to notice anything different, but then you were blinking back into reality some time later, though you couldn’t tell how much. Joel’s face was in front of your own, his eyebrows furrowed, expression angrier than you had seen it in a while.

Looking around the area, over Joel’s shoulder, you saw a burning building some ways behind him, and your eyebrows raised in surprise. “What happened there?” You asked, your throat sore as you said it, your chest aching, and you were more confused than anything else at the sensation.

“What were you thinking?” Joel seethed, seemingly becoming angrier at your question, and you tried not to pay the emotion any mind. You looked around again, squinting your eyes and catching sight of Tess stood before the building, her gun raised to the doorway as if expecting something to come out of the blaze. “Huh?” He questioned, drawing your attention back.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, getting more confused by the second. You looked down to where your fingers were apparently covered in soot, and slowly connected that with the burning building across the way. “Wait, did I—”

“You can’t check out like that! You’re gonna get yourself killed.” Joel said, and you felt his hand squeeze your shoulder far more gently than the way he was speaking. He seemed… frantic, almost. You frowned, because nobody had ever really noticed you blanking out before, or at least, nobody had ever said anything to you about it.

Your awareness came back to you fully then, and you could feel the heat from the fire even all the way over here, so you couldn’t imagine the heat Tess was feeling. With a huffed breath, you pulled yourself to your feet, shrugging Joel’s hand off when he tried to help you as you stumbled slightly. Your bag felt lighter than it had before, but at least you still had it.

Joel grumbled, his hard expression unchanging as he turned away from you to go and grab Tess, nodding at you to follow them as you hurried away from the burning building, blinking as you tried to remember what had happened.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Arriving at Bill and Frank’s compound was… overwhelming. Which was probably the biggest understatement ever.

Tess and Joel didn’t think it pertinent to tell you where you were headed before leaving Boston, and you weren’t all that well versed in where smugglers got their items to smuggle. You figured it would be some run down place, that was mostly untouched by the outbreak.

You didn’t expect this.

Initially, it reminded you of the small community you had lived in with your father, all that time ago. Though this place was guarded much better, with that electric fence that Joel warned you away from. The houses looked good, and there was one down the street, with a wide porch and old kids toys piled in the garden, which made your heart clench.

You wanted to retreat back into yourself, to hide in that haze, to let the blanket of emptiness cover you, but then Frank was emerging from the doorway of their house, his grip tight on a walking stick, but his smile was wide. He was tailed by Bill, whose hands hovered hesitantly as he followed Frank.

“Tess! Joel!” Frank called, and held his arms out for Tess when she approached, sharing a hug like they were family. You were pretty sure that they were just friends, had no connection before the outbreak. It was strange, really, to think of hugging someone that wasn’t a relation. Or perhaps it was the caring part of it that had your brows creased. “And who’s this?” He asked, smiling at you.

With a nod from Joel, you introduced yourself to the man, trying not to shrink into yourself at his cheerful demeanour, and the suspicious glances of Bill from beside him.

“Bill, it’s fine,” Frank sighed, a roll of his eyes as he turned to the man. “Go get started on dinner! We’re going to sit out here, while the weather is nice.”

Bill grumbled, eyes darting between the three of you and the man he loved, but he turned with a resigned sigh. Frank grinned, a fond look on his face.

Tess busied herself setting the table, ignoring the way Frank scolded her for doing his job, only shooting him an exasperated smile. After a moment, Frank realised there were only four chairs set around the small garden table.

“Oh, I think there’s another in my art room.” He said, as he looked between you and the four chairs.

Unable to help yourself, “You have an art room?” You asked, which was probably the most you had spoken for the past few days. You ignored the way Joel seemed to perk up at your words, a glance going between him and Tess.

Frank smiled. He seemed to do a lot of that. “You wanna have a look?” He asked kindly, nodding his head and starting towards the house.

“Go on.” Joel encouraged with his monotone murmur. You hesitantly followed Frank into the house.

You didn’t look around much, instead opting to focus on keeping close to the man in front of you. If you looked to closely, you think you might see similarities to the home you had with your dad, and after already shutting down once on this journey, you figured that Joel wouldn’t be too pleased if you did it again.

It was wracking your nerves, the closer you got to Frank’s art room. You wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, not even your father, had he been here, but you were scared. You had gotten so good at removing yourself from a multitude of situations, but the concept of art had you grounded in place no matter how much you might have wanted to fade back into your mind. You can remember nights spent staying up late, dipping brushes in colours that resembled the world around you almost too accurately. The gentle swipe of paint across paper, canvas, walls, wood — whatever your father could give you, at the time.

It was the best thing you had.

You realise, now, that you had been escaping from the world for your whole life. Only back then, it had been to nicer lands, beauty put down on different mediums so you could physically touch it, could know it was true, it was real. The only thing that had changed was your method of escaping, really. Where you had once clambered for colours and depictions of the world in a different light, you now escaped to the very depths of your mind, hidden deep under sadness and fear and loneliness. Somewhere that you couldn’t be disturbed, wouldn’t have to think about the world and what it had taken from you.

You’re scared of wanting that old method of escape back.

When you enter the art room, you know your fear is valid. You know that the longing you have for paints and pencils and whatever supplies your father could get his hands on was back, or perhaps it was just the longing for your father returning full force from where you had buried it. Whatever it might have been, it was overwhelming.

It made everything feel like it meant more. Like the careful brushes of meticulously selected colours on white canvases was personal to you.

Frank’s art was covering the entire room, a stack of empty canvases in one corner, dwarfed by the amount of wooden frames that had sketched or painted pictures stretched over them. It was bright in here, the colours seemingly glowing from the light that was shining through the large windows, looking out on parts of the garden.

“This one isn’t finished,” Frank said, his voice quiet, and you looked to where you had forgotten he was standing. He leant heavily on his walking stick, gesturing with his free hand toward a canvas stood upon an easel — the first easel you had seen. When your dad first encouraged your interest in art, he had told you all about what his time in art class at school had been like. He’d told you about the easels, the shitty school paints — which were heavenly compared to what yours had been like — and his own art teacher. But easels weren’t the most common thing, and so you had never used one.

The painting that stood upon the strange-looking three legged stand looked like the beginnings of Bill’s face, blue eyes surrounded by carefully mixed colours to bring about the contours of the man’s skin. It was much better than anything you had ever painted.

“Have you ever painted?” Frank asked, after a few moments of hesitation. He’d lived in the apocalyptic world, too, but he hadn’t grown up in it. The man had more awareness than you expected, given his presence in such a protected home, but you supposed that if he knew Tess and Joel, it made sense that he would be sensitive of the world’s horrors.

You looked at the paintbrushes set out to dry beside an open window, and quickly drew your gaze away. “Yeah,” You responded, voice uncharacteristically gentle. You cleared your throat, annoyed at your own involuntary vulnerability. “My dad used to get paints, before I got to Boston.”

If Frank noticed your choice of pronoun ‘I’ and not ‘we’, he didn’t comment on it. He let your words settle for a moment, and you realised this was probably the most open you had been, the most you had spoken of your life before Boston. It was almost… sad. You think your dad would’ve loved Bill and Frank’s home, and the knowledge that nobody else would ever be able to consider what he would like was a painful admission.

“Well, I’m sure you could take some back with you.” Frank offered, a gentle smile on his face. He seemed to know more than he let on, even when your words were limited and he didn’t know you, hadn’t even met you before today.

You tried to brush your discomfort away, tried to unwind the stiffness to your shoulders. “That’s okay.” You said, fiddling with a button on your jacket as you took one more glance around the room, an uncomfortable tightening in your throat. “We’d better get back.” You prompted, walking to the chair in front of the easel and picking it up, gesturing for Frank to lead the way back to the garden.

“You alright?” Joel asked quietly as you set the chair down by his side, taking a seat in it a moment after as Frank and Tess began chatting away.

“I’m fine.” You snapped.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It was on the way back from Bill and Frank’s that everything seemed to go wrong. For this portion of the journey, you made sure to cling on to every slither of awareness you had, digging your claws into consciousness and not letting go. You wouldn’t admit it, but the whole situation on the way there had shaken you.

You supposed it was different to the way blanking out in the QZ had been. After all, there was a certain amount of control in the QZ, much less of a wild factor than there was in the outside world. You could anticipate everything that you might come into contact with at the QZ, and each time, nothing was scary enough for you to even consider holding on to consciousness. Out in the real world, that was very different.

Despite travelling in it to the Quarantine Zone, there wasn’t a whole lot of that you could remember after the incident with your father. Everything was unpredictable, out here, and you were foolish to forget that. Especially after what it cost you the first time.

There may have been something else, though, something that had your fingers grasping onto reality so tightly you didn’t think you would ever let go. And that was the fact that it wasn’t just yourself that you were putting in danger, anymore, but Tess and Joel, too. And would you ever be able to forgive yourself if you came to awareness, just to see their blood on your hands? To find their bodies lay still? To be at fault once again for killing the only people left in the world that would see you safe? You could pretty confidently say no, you would never be able to forgive such a thing.

Even with your best attempts to cling on to your own awareness, it was clear that Joel and Tess didn’t quite trust your efforts. Given the fact that they refused to let you take a watch when night fell early, stopping to wait the darkness out just over halfway back to the Zone. Tess had already taken first watch, shaking Joel awake despite your offer to watch the area for him, so it was just you and Joel, Tess’s breaths long-since evened out.

“You can get some rest, y’know.” Joel said, his voice low to avoid waking Tess. You were well aware that she was a light sleeper, though you couldn’t blame her. It was the apocalypse, after all. Besides, it wasn’t like you were able to catch much sleep, too hyper focused on staying present to drift even into slumber, fearing you wouldn’t become conscious afterwards, fearing you would just wake.

“‘M fine, Joel.” You grumbled in response, eyes flitting around the rustling grass surrounding you, as if something was going to jump out at any moment.

Joel huffed, something between exasperation and vague amusement in it, and shook his head. “Sure, you are, kid.” He responded, adjusting his grip on the gun and resigning himself to the fact that you were going to stay up, no matter what he said. “Not gonna let anythin’ hurt you, you do know that, right?” He asked, after a long pause, and ignored the unpleasant way your face twisted.

“Why do you two help me? I don’t get it. Not done anything to help you, so why?” You questioned, instead of answering his question, too desperate to know to avoid the opening in the conversation. Joel sighed, a roll of his eyes, a deflection, as always.

“So impossible to believe that we could just be good people?” Joel replied, after your expectant silence lingered on uncomfortably. He shuffled, pausing when Tess moved, but only turned in her sleep.

You huffed, and Joel tried to ignore the way he was sure it sounded just like him. “Yes, it is impossible to believe that. You found me after I…” You paused, unsure how to go about admitting something you didn’t even remember. “After that FEDRA guard. Good people wouldn’t help me, after seeing that.”

“Been in your shoes, kid.” Joel said, at last, and you furrowed your brows at his answer. And the nickname he had taken to calling you. Joel didn’t exactly want to talk about it, both for the unpleasantness he had experienced and the worry that you’d retreat if he was honest. He could barely even explain the why to himself, so he had no idea how he could formulate it into words to tell you. “Not a good place to be, even worse if you’re alone.” He admitted, though he hadn’t been alone for as long as he could remember. There had always been Tommy, and after Tommy there was Sarah, and then his brother returned, but even then — he had Tess. But despite all that company, Joel knew exactly how it felt to be isolated, to be alone in your situation, to feel no other option than to retreat into yourself to get through the day.

He wouldn’t wish it upon anyone, let alone you.

You wanted to deny it, to tell Joel that you weren’t alone. That you already had a family you loved, that you already had a dad who cared about you, but what could you say? The truth was, he was gone.

“Get some sleep.” Joel said, dismissing the conversation before you could figure out anything to say. You just frowned at him, staring at him like his expression held all the answers, but as always, Joel revealed nothing. No reasoning, no answers, nothing. Finally, you turned away from him, resting your head against your backpack, eyes remaining open so you could keep an eye on the forest ahead of you for the last few hours of the night.

When the light finally a swept the last of the darkness away, the three of you set off again. Now, you were at the final stretch of your journey — so close to the QZ you could almost smell the pungent scent of fire and unrest. You never thought you’d be glad to see the decimated land around the Boston zone, but here you were, five steps ahead of Tess and Joel, who shared secret glances, communicating in a language you couldn’t understand.

They joined your side when you paused, waiting for them, just along the edge of where FEDRA usually patrolled. You looked to the two adults expectantly, not sure where you’d be entering the Zone, and figuring you must’ve been out of it if they had ever actually told you that part.

Now this, this was where it all went downhill.

“On your knees.” A voice from behind the three of you said, and you recognised the sound of a familiar FEDRA officer, from your time spent as a trainee. You just hoped he wouldn’t remember you. “I said, get on your knees!” He repeated, when the three of you had hesitated a moment too long, stepping forward and jabbing the end of his gun into the back of your knee. You grit your teeth as your knees buckled from the hit, dropping to the ground with your hands raised. You watched Joel and Tess follow when the guard moved towards them. Joel’s jaw was clenched.

“We’re just lookin’ to get to the QZ, man, that’s all.” Tess said, keeping her hands in the air and her head tilted as she tried to negotiate, as usual.

“Just a precaution, ma’am.” The guard responded, a snark to his voice. Despite what he said, when you first arrived to the QZ, there was no precautions this far out. In fact, it was only when you stalked towards the gate that guns were trained on you, your wrists bound until they got you through the main gate to test you.

He was patting down Tess, and you would’ve sworn you could hear Joel grinding his teeth together, clenching his jaw shut so tightly you wouldn’t have been surprised if it had broken. Meanwhile, you focused on trying to remember the name of the guard, trying to recall his temperament, whether he was easily swayed. You blinked your eyes shut, trying to see through the haze that clouded your memories as the guy moved on to Joel, but without seeing the guy’s face, it was too difficult.

“What kinda QZ has precautions this far out?” Joel grumbled as the guard moved along, checking the distance towards the gate with squinted eyes, and trying his best not to clench his fists as the guard moved towards you.

“You born yesterday, man? World’s fucked.” The guard answered, stepping away from you and moving to go around to see the front of the three of you. “Well, I never.” He chuckled, catching sight of your face as it fell, finally putting the voice to the face as you looked at him. “Don’t recall seeing your name on the exist list, trainee.” FEDRA had a bunch of awful guards, but this guy… Jerry, you were pretty fucking sure, was amongst the worst of them.

“Not a trainee, anymore.” You bit out in response, practically feeling the two adults beside you tensing up at the FEDRA guard’s recognition of you. “You even know my name, Jerry?” You asked, tilting your head upwards with your best reinvention of the careless expression that used to rile the man up so much.

He smiled, a grin full of rotten teeth and breath that stung your eyes as he leaned towards you. You resisted the urge to throw up over his shoes as he said your name, proving your hopeful taunt incorrect.

“Alright, now, no need for trouble.” Joel said placatingly, trying to keep the grimace off of his face in exchange for a more… reasonable expression. “We ain’t Infected, just a couple of folks tryin’ to be on their way.”

“Shut your mouth, and mind your business, fella.” Jerry spat towards Joel, before he looked back to you, a grin on that ugly face. “I’ve been trying to get the dirt to have you hung for months, now. Unauthorised exit? Well, that ought’a do it.” He said, morbid amusement dancing across his face. You just bared your teeth at him, a sarcastic expression donning your features.

“Careful, Jerry. You’re soundin’ awfully obsessed. Didn’t they out you for that, once already?” You asked, sarcastically, recalling the way he had been shamed outright by a higher up for getting on the trainee’s cases too much. FEDRA was strict already, so if he was getting publicly scolded for his obsessive behaviour, you figured it must’ve been bad.

You saw the way Joel was tensed up out of the corner of your eye, but didn’t dare turn to look at him, or even attempt to see how Tess was fairing.

It was when Jerry reared back, his rotten teeth bared, a sneer pulling at his features, that you saw Joel move. He’d noticed a second before you did, the way that the FEDRA guard was reaching for his smaller weapon, his handgun, barely getting it out of the holster before Joel was launching up and forwards, pushing Jerry and falling alongside him as they rolled down the slight slope to go towards the QZ gate.

“Joel!” Tess yelled out, a curse falling from her lips as she grabbed the stuff that Jerry had been attempting to confiscate before realising who you were. She dug through her bag, looking for her own gun, too risky to have it on her person this close to the QZ for this goddamn reason. You glanced between her searching frantically and the duo fighting slightly below you, before you caught a glint of metal in one of their hands. Did Joel have a knife? Did he have a knife, or was that Jerry’s? Was Jerry about to fucking stab Joel, who had tackled him to protect you?

You stumbled down the slight decline after the two of them, just as Jerry was catching the upper hand, something red trickling down his sleeve. You pulled the very gun he had tried to pull on you from its holster at his side, before he could even react to you having moved from where you were. He was slow, this guy, but that didn’t mean he was incapable. He was freakishly strong, and he bared bloody teeth at you as he moved to swing the blade in his hands down.

A crack interrupted his movements, blood dancing a crimson path down the side of his forehead.

Jerry’s body slumped backwards, falling away from where he had been about to fucking kill Joel Miller, all for what? His helmet made a dull thunk against the ground as it connected, and Joel was groaning, shoving the deadweight off of him with a bit of a struggle.

“The fuck were you thinking?” Tess asked, grasping onto Joel’s shoulders to help him up, only for him to hiss and pull away, and you vaguely saw Tess’s hand covered in a sticky sheen of blood that had leaked through the material of Joel’s jacket. “Jesus, Joel, you could’ve gotten yourself killed.” She scolded, pulling the jacket away and unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt to look at the wound. She dug through her bag to pull a few rags out of it, pressing the material against the fucking stab wound, and waiting for Joel’s steady hand to take over before she moved away. “Come on, we can’t wait around. If they’re patrolling this far out, something must’ve gone down, and I doubt anyone’s far enough to have not heard that.” She said, nodding pointedly towards the gun gripped tightly in your fingers.

At her reminder, you shivered, taking the knife from Jerry’s limp hand and replacing it with the gun. You wiped the blood — Joel’s blood — off of the blade onto the side of your jacket, before shoving it back in its place on Jerry’s vest, which you hadn’t even realised was there. You wondered if Joel knew, before he decided to attack him.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───��─ ─────✧₊∘

You blinked, and realised you were already back at the apartment you stayed in with Joel and Tess.

Joel was sat at the table, med kit set out open in front of him, with Tess being nowhere in sight. He barely spared you a glance as you stood up from the sofa you didn’t remember sitting on, your brows furrowed as you looked around the room, as if the answers—the memories—you wanted would be revealed.

“She went to trade what we managed to get from Bill and Frank’s.” Joel told you, not even looking in your direction as he focused on fixing himself up. He had the rag in his hand once again, wiping at the blood still trickling from his wound. You wondered if Tess didn’t tell you where she was going, or if Joel just knew you weren’t present if she did.

You didn’t even know what had sent you back to the depths of your mind, this time. Was it shooting Jerry? Killing somebody whilst actually being fully responsible for your actions? Was it his threats about getting you hung? Or was it that very wound that Joel was tending to right now? The fact that once again, somebody got hurt, and it was your fault?

“Can you hand me the, uh…” Joel trailed off, gesturing over towards the counter where amber liquid sat in a glass bottle. You went over and grabbed it, placing it down on the table in front of Joel far harsher than you realised you were going to. You hadn’t quite noticed the way anger, or something defensive at least, had settled in your chest, stirring that brimming pot of guilt until it was almost flowing over the edges. “Thanks.” Joel said gruffly, splashing some of the booze onto the rag and pressing it to his shoulder.

You stared at him, waiting for him to say something, to explain himself, but he made no move to do so.

“What is wrong with you?” You said, finally, your voice loud and echoing around the barely furnished room, like it had burst from your chest, like you had no choice in the matter.

“Got stabbed, in case you didn’t notice.” Joel quipped, which seemed even further out of character for him. You vaguely wondered if you had just lost your mind, if this was all some made up scenario playing out in your head.

“Why did you attack him? He didn’t attack you, I—I don’t understand!” You told him, gritting your teeth when Joel just continued tending to his wound, not acknowledging your questioning. Part of you wished Tess was here so she could dismiss you before you could continue, but she was clearly nowhere nearby, given that she hadn’t burst into the room to stop any conflict. “Joel, answer me.”

He finally looked up, shaking his head. “What do you want me to say, huh? Somebody’s gotta protect you! Lord knows you don’t do it yourself! Rilin’ that guard up— it was reckless. He could’ve killed you, kid, and what would I have done then?” Joel questioned, his voice louder than your own, a booming thing that had you wanting to retreat. You refused, pushing it down in favour of the confrontation that you’d been putting off for months, by now.

“I can take care of myself.” You answered, spitting the words out like there was a semblance of truth to them. “I’m not your goddamn kid, Joel, there are plenty of other strays you could help out if I had died.” You continued, throwing the nickname back in his face, watching the way he recoiled, something unfamiliar flashing in his eyes.

“Now, you listen—”

He tried to say, only to be interrupted by you continuing on. “No! You’re not my dad, Joel! I already had a dad, okay? I had a dad, and he’s dead, and that’s on me. I won’t go through that again. You gotta stop puttin’ your life on the line for me!”

“Kid…” Joel trailed, the confession not exactly surprising him, but he felt a twinge in his chest nonetheless. He had figured all of this was catalysed by some kind of loss, just going by his own experience with the matter, but he had never known for sure. You were closed off — another way you were just so similar to him, and you’d never spoken about any family.

You closed your eyes, tears brimming in the edges, slipping down your face, and you wiped them away with a rough swipe of your sleeve against your skin. “You don’t understand. It was my fault. If it weren’t for me, he’d—… Every day I’ve been here, I’ve just been wishing we could’ve swapped places, wishing that he was here instead of me, because I can’t do this without my dad. But—But he could’ve, without me.”

“When my Sarah died,” Joel started, gritting his teeth against the pain in his chest that just her name brought. “I gave up. I—I lost any will to live, I prayed that it wasn’t real, prayed for God to switch our places, to trade her life for mine. Tried to end it, and when that failed, I got numb. Got lost in my head, ended up fightin’ anybody I crossed paths with, usin’ any excuse to hurt people, even while I was with Tess. Barely even remember it,” Joel continued, a strained laugh falling from his lips, his hand held to his chest in hopes of soothing some of the ache that originated there. “Just remember wakin’ up, covered in—in blood, not knowing who the hell I hurt. So, when I saw you, not even present in your own goddamn head, I figured that wherever you came from, whatever family you might’ve had, they wouldn’t want you ending up like me.”

That pot of guilt in your chest felt like it would explode, even as you blinked back tears, only getting harder the longer Joel spoke, the more he told you. You had never taken him for a religious man, but you supposed you could relate to that, that desperation to just save your family’s life.

“I’ve got too much blood on my hands, kid,” Joel told you, the words going past the literal sense of his own blood, spilled across his palms from that wound that you had caused. It was deeper than that, it was something you related to, like he knew that sensation of fresh blood that plagued you, like it was dripping over your hands all the time. “You gotta wipe yours clean.”

Clearly, that wound on his shoulder wasn’t his only open one. It was there, gaping in his chest, weeping waves of guilt and suffering that hit you with such familiarity. My Sarah. You couldn’t help but think about your dad, couldn’t help wondering if this was how he’d feel, if your places had of swapped.

“He was my dad,” You said desperately, like it could explain everything, like the simple statement could convey everything you couldn’t put into other words. That’s not something you can replace, something you can change, something you can forget. You opened your mouth to continue, but all that happened was the tears stinging your eyes fell, and you turned your head to the side, hoping Joel wouldn’t see the way your lip was trembling.

Joel’s arms were warm when he wrapped them around you, blood still tacky on his shirt where it pressed to your jacket, but you barely noticed it. “She was my daughter.” He said in response, and suddenly it made sense.

If anything about your relationship with Joel was true, it was that you were mirror images. Reflections. Two sides of the same coin, two sides of the same story, one that told of grief and loss and pain that would never go away. His response was the answer you didn’t even realise you had been waiting for. He was my dad, and she was my daughter. Not replacements, not something to try and fill the gaps. The acknowledgment was everything you needed to wrap your arms around Joel, to squeeze his shirt between your fists and cry, to cry for the dad that you lost, for the daughter he lost, for everything the two of you would never have again.

You weren’t Joel’s daughter, and he wasn’t your dad.

That much was true, and you knew it, because you had each other. And maybe, come morning, you would still leave the apartment like you had been considering doing all along, or maybe you would stay. Maybe, you’d let yourself have this, this little family made up of torn apart pieces, of members too damaged to fit just right, of a dad who lost his daughter, and a daughter who lost her dad.

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haunted-headset · 7 months

Note

Wilbur talking about YN at a concert and YN just happened to be streaming and chat told her. Then once wilbur gets back from tour (theyre roommates) YN mentions it and wilbur gets all flustered 🤭

💬 Everybody Talks Too Much 💬

Summary: Wilbur was talking about Y/N at a concert and Y/N happened to be streaming & her chat told her. Then, once Wilbur gets back from the tour, Y/N mentions it & Wilbur gets flustered AF

A/N: guys go follow @joviepog, they're basically one of the reasons you guys get fanfics. Also, this title was based off of a song called Everybody Talks :p

pairing: CC!Wilbur x afab!musician!reader

pronouns used for reader: She/her/hers

tags: @vibestillaxxx @joviepog @ax-y10 @themonsterunderurmom @wilburstan @smolsleepykitten @funnyreally2009 @crows-death @thewheelersgaygaragelights @dykepunz @aresriiots @0miamor0 @cathers-world @defonotval @chipch0p @mazzistar16 @unmellowyellowfellow @justalittlebitofchaos @thosecolorfulsheets @vopix @taylors-version-from-the-vault @aine-lasagna @merianakross @veeislost @urfav-sapphic-siren (pls let me know if you do/don't want to be tagged!)

warnings/cw: reader & Wilbur getting flustered, swearing, mentions of whimpering audios

proofread?: *aggressively shakes head*

genre: fluff

word count: 455

"Do we have to steal Wilbur's YLYL rules again, chat?" You said to your chat with a laugh. "It seems like Wilbur's the only one who can tame you feral fuckers." You were doing a YLYL stream & your fans thought it would be a funny idea to try & send whimpering audios through MediaShare. You were not amused. Just then, a different video had been sent in. You were very prepared to pause the video or have the mods remove it, but you then saw your roommate Wilbur in the video.

"What's this?" You asked with a raised brow. You read the caption of the video, which read, "Wilbur was talking about Y/N during one of his concerts!!!!" You felt your face get hot.

In the video, Wilbur had just finished a song & he said to the crowd, "Guys, I forgot to mention, but shoutout to my roommate Y/N, because they stuck around even though I forget to pay rent half of the time & I bother her with my dumbass rambling! So, yeah, respect for my pretty hot roommate!" He said it so easily as if it were nothing. As if he didn't just call you hot.

"...interesting," you mumbled. The chat was blowing up with 'lol' messages & comments about how red your cheeks were. You didn't really care because you heard a knock at your bedroom door. You were home alone.

"Uh...come in?" you said to the knocking at the door. Wilbur then opened the door. "Wilbur?! You're back from tour?"

"Yeah," he smiled. He became Beardbur again during the tour & he looked very tired. "Sorry, I didn't tell you. I wanted to surprise you."

"Nah, it's fine," you said. "I was too busy to pick you up anyway."

"Wow," Wilbur said sarcastically, placing a hand over his heart & scoffing. "I can't believe that you would prioritize your streams over me!"

"Oh, piss off," you laughed.

"What're you doing?" Wilbur asked, looking at the webcam. He looked at the video & raised a brow.

"We're doing a YLYL stream," you said. "& my chat sent a video of you talking about me during a concert."

His usually pale face went ten shades pinker. "Th-that must've been edited or something-"

"Wilbur, it's fine, I know you're madly in love with me," you said jokingly. He laughed awkwardly.

"Oh well, I'll leave you to your weird chat," Wilbur said as he quickly got up & left the room. You waved goodbye & saw that someone had subscribed & left a message along with the sub.

"WILBUR LIKES YOU! HE SAID SO DURING THE SHOW! I JUST DIDN'T SHOW YOU THAT PART!" The message said.

"...what?" You said softly.

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baddestbittyontheblock · 6 months

Text

ellie williams fic recs (2/3)

you are responsible for the content you consume‼️

✧*:·˚ hi everyone!! here is a list of all the fics that are my favs with tagged writers/authors ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each writer!! ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ also, if you'd like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ✧*:·˚

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

my absolute favs: 🌱

꒷꒦ affinity - part 1 by @whore-era ellie williams x fem!reader | angst, pining, best friends, unrequited love

-after being in love with your best friend for years, one drunken night changes everything.

꒷꒦ as sweet as the sound by @xo-cori ellie williams x fem!reader | smut (MDNI), fingersucking, ellie is a filthy bottom idc, they’re a lil high but who isn’t in this economy

-she’s undeniably talented, but your girlfriend is just a bit too self-critical of her work.

꒷꒦ "what would you do if i went to touch you now?" by @louswrld11 ellie williams x fem!reader | wlw relationship, moderndayau!, whiny ellie (dying), oral, fingering, ellie's a switch?? wow, face sitting (i literally screamed into my pillow), cuddling!!!, ellie begging??omg yes pls, reader being more of a dom, ellie being a bit of a brat. literally just lesbians i mean what more could you want.

-ellie hates it when you're not paying attention to her

꒷꒦ where it all begins by @ijtaimes ellie williams x reader | pinning , jealousy , awkward tension? , ellie being mean to a kid, ellie being awkward, banter (lots of it because i live laugh love banter!), mentions of c*m

-summer is back in full swing, which means you’re back to being a camp counselor for moody, grumpy and hormonal middle schoolers. this summer however, is different! camp harmony hills has been renovated and the group of kids this year seem slightly more pleasant. not to mention, you have not one but two girls crushing on you. whew! but…something still is different about this year…the rumors are back and things seem a little. odd.

꒷꒦ wedding blurb by @spaceshipellie top!ellie x femme!bottom!reader | tlou au, ellie and readers wedding, touching in public, bathroom sex, fingering + eating out (r receiving), MDNI

-“you wanna love me right now, you wanna get alone with me”

꒷꒦ ellie headcanons pt 4 by @inf3ct3dd loser!ellie x reader

-loves matching with you. keychains, shoes, outfits, literally anything. if you have dyed hair, she’d dye a piece of hers to match you.

꒷꒦ hot to go! by ^ ellie williams x reader

-you started prepping the coffee beans, pouring them into a large class container while you moved your head back and forth, music blasting through your headphones.

꒷꒦ ellie fic by @dinasfavslut ellie williams x fem!reader | 18+ mndi!, smoking, sexual thoughts, cussing, pet names, teasing, smut (oral, fingering, slight mention of strap, squirting)

-everyone is aware that ellie smokes; we have all seen it. of course, there are also the dealer ellie fics, picture ellie making the reader squirt for the first time while high!

꒷꒦ brothers bestfriend ellie; by @hhayden222 ellie williams x reader | {sfw}

꒷꒦ ellie drabble/blurb by @amourrs ellie williams x fem!reader | smut 18+, ai audios

-one where you wear ellie’s flannel and neither of you actually end up leaving the house

꒷꒦ store owner! ellie by @dollyhao ellie williams x reader | smut, doggy, squirting, strap in use (r!recieving)

꒷꒦ sending nudes to a high ellie by ^ ellie williams x reader | high ellie, mutual masturbation, dirty talk

-“baby…” ellie says through the phone sounding desperate as ever. she missed her girl friend so bad. she went on a friends trip with jesse and dina. you couldn’t come because you had to work still.

꒷꒦ nothing's gonna hurt you baby... by @cottontears modern au established gf ellie williams x fem reader | slight angst, hurt reader, ellie comforts her, fluff ensues, shitty friends

-ellie comforts you and saves you from your shitty friends

꒷꒦ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐇𝐂𝐒 + 𝐟𝐞𝐦!reader. by @iactuallykissedsharawheeler ellie williams x reader | weed mention

꒷꒦ gf!ellie headcannons by @phantombriide ellie williams x reader | mdni, loser gf!ellie, annoying gf!ellie, mentions of head/sex, mentions of making out, ellie's a clown and you're sick of it but love it so much, swearing and fluff

-gf!ellie who you've been friends with since junior year of high school.

꒷꒦ sweet blurb by ^ ellie williams x fem!reader

-ellie who loves coming home from patrol to a messy house. usually it's the other way around because no one wants to come home from work to a mess to clean up, but it's not like that at all.

꒷꒦ smut blurb by @wrtinginblood ellie williams x fem!reader | pregnancy mention, nsfw

-ellie fucking you when you’re, like, newly pregnant and she’s sooo feral and excited for you to get all swollen with her baby

꒷꒦ texts with gf!ellie pt.3!! by @bellaramslover ellie williams x reader | mentions of smoking/drinking, implied sex, a little arguing

-Part 1 here!, Part 2 here!

꒷꒦ ellie fic by @d3arapril ellie williams x reader | 18+ minors dni, smut(obviously), dom!ellie, language, ellie has a dirty mouth, an ass slap.

-“cover her mouth and make her listen to how wet she is” aka jackson!ellie putting in WORK.

꒷꒦ sub service top ellie blurb by @seattlesellie ellie williams x reader | smut

꒷꒦ groupchat with ellie, dina and jesse part 2 by @elsweetheart ellie williams x fem!reader

-trying to organise going out to eat, and jesse can’t seem to catch a break.

꒷꒦ being a menace to dealer!ellie in the night part two by ^ ellie williams x reader

-you tried everything to get to sleep. you’d counted sheep, you had tried counting back from one thousand, you’d sat up and read a book— nothing was working.

꒷꒦ texts with ellie by @ellieslaces ellie williams x reader | fem!reader, suggestive conversations, harsh language, mentions of dark humor, use of pet names (babe, baby, sweet girl, etc), mentions of college!dealer!ellie

-a collection of messages between ellie and the reader! made by me. essentially this is my idea of what some daily conversations would be like with ellie if she were your girlfriend <3

꒷꒦ types of kisses with ellie by @elliesprettygirl ellie williams x reader | pure fluff

-how ellie would kiss you

꒷꒦ ellie playing the sims headcanons by ^ ellie x gf!reader | loser!ellie if you squint

-ellie being adorable

꒷꒦ ellie with a breeding kink by ^ ellie williams x reader

-"slow and steady"

꒷꒦ ellie williams and her clingy-ness by @lillysbigwilly ellie williams x reader

꒷꒦ my sweet girl by @evera-era ellie williams x afab!reader | friends to lovers, virgin reader, ellie has a praise + innocence kink, fingering, oral r!receiving, facesitting, fondling, lots of kissing, you talk her through it, fluff !!!!

꒷꒦ ellie blurb by ^ ellie williams x reader

-reader has a dream where ellie liked someone else or something (you know how a lot of couples go through this😭) and gets mad at her and Ellie is like “it was just a dream babe” and it’s all fluffy and cute

꒷꒦ f**k you by ^ ellie williams x afab!reader | hate sex, ellie’s rude as shit in the first half, alcohol use, some name-calling, aggressive kissing, fingering, scissoring, brat taming, spanking, edging/overstim

-ellie couldn’t stand you. she found you so incredibly annoying, and yet you shared the same friends. which was the biggest problem, ever.

꒷꒦ adventure time blurb by @savannahsdeath ellie williams x reader

-ellie and reader lying down on the bed while they’re watching adventure time, and all the time that princess bubblegum and marceline shows off, ellie is like “omg look at us!!”

꒷꒦ lover girl!ellie headcanons by @itsbecomeblue ellie williams x reader | nsfw with warning near the end, swearing, basically fluff, ellie and reader play soccer, puppy love, slightly loser!ellie, not explicit if reader is fem or masc

-highschool romance with ellie

꒷꒦ there's two ways to squirt by @bambiesfics ellie williams x reader | water-sports, extreme overstimulation, graphic depictions of lesbian smut, r!receiving finger bang, sarcastic Ellie, fluff + loving at the end.

-reader has a full bladder and is trapped in ellie william’s hatchback.

꒷꒦ once again, for the first time (1/3) 🌱 by @lovelettersfromluna ellie williams x reader | ANGST!!!, ellie is an oblivious idiot, quiet!reader, momentary alternative love interest, jealous!ellie, possessive!ellie

-being in love with your best friend has got to be one of the most emotionally exhausting things someone can experience, so it’s time you put your foot down and moved on….at least, try to move on

꒷꒦ silver springs (2/3) 🌱 by ^ ellie williams x reader | SMUT!!! 18+, mdni, alcohol and marijuana usage, jealous!ellie, slight asshole!ellie, cheating, oral r!receiving, edging, fingering r!receiving, pet names, kissing

-a step by step guide on how not to get over ellie fucking williams

꒷꒦ linger (3/3) 🌱 by ^ ellie williams x reader | smut!! mdni!! 18+, ellie and reader are both very sad and very stubborn, angst, hurt/comfort, alcohol usage, mention of marijuana, making out, pet names, oral (ellie receiving), tribbing

-back home for the holidays after hooking up with your best friend, who you also happen to be madly in love with...what could possibly go wrong.

꒷꒦ blossom (1/2) 🌱 by ^ ellie williams x reader | 18+!! smut!! angst!! (is it a fic of mine if there isn’t angst at this point), small town!ellie, it’s summer time ofc hehe, fingering (r!receiving), nipple play (r!receiving), petnames, ellie hurt reader in the past but is extremely desperate for her now, lots of kissing

-ellie broke up with you in high school right before she left for college. At the time, it left you devastated….five years later, she’s back. And she’s back for you.

꒷꒦ 20 something (2/2) 🌱 by ^ ellie williams x reader | angst!! ellie is an idiot in this one, joel being a dad figure to reader, alcohol usage, reader gets a lil drunk, jealous!reader

-how you ain’t say you was movin’ forward? Honesty hurts when you’re gettin’ older, I gotta say I’ll miss the way you need me.

꒷꒦ the perfect girl (1/2) 🌱 by ^ ellie williams x reader | 18+!!, ANGST, eventual smut just not in this chapter, mentions of sex, mutual pining, ellie is sort of a dick but she isn’t necessarily mean (don’t worry you’ll see), lead singer!reader, use of alcohol and marijuana, rock star life style so lots of partying, reader is a badass

-the amount of tension between you and your guitarist is fucking ridiculous.

꒷꒦ sweet little lies (2/2) 🌱 by ^ ellie williams x reader | 18+!!! Eventual smut, ellie is selfish point blank period, reader is extremely sad, some making out but doesn't lead to much, ANGST!!!!

-being on tour with someone you’ve been ignoring for two months is hard…but doable

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #the last of us #tlou #ellie williams smut #ellie williams imagines #tlou ellie williams #fic recs #tlou 2 #tlou smut

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thecynthh · 4 months

Text

whipped cream - C.S

synopsis - y/n wants to give chris a good christmas present for working so hard this december.

notes - SMUT, food play, tied up, roughish..? dom!chris, 1849 words

a/n - MY FIRST SMUT PLS BE NICE ALSO I KNOW THIS IS LATE FOR CHRISTMAS BUT YALLS DESERVE A CHRIS FIC INSTEAD OF KEEPING THE MATT SHIT COMING (also i’m a virgin and has never kissed anyone and it’s been 18 years so don’t judge if anythings like wrong :P)

——————————————————————————

i sat down on the kitchen table wearing nothing but a santa hat and a lovely red lingerie set. this year for chris's gift i was going to let him play with me a little and try something new.

i was gunna let him do whatever we wanted to me, so to get him started i sat down on the large rectangle dining table in the house he shared with his brothers. luckily they agreed to staying out of the house for a couple of hours while i "wrap presents" for all of them.

in reality chris was going to have as much fun as he would like with me. i toy with the cap of the fresh whipped cream can i've bought for this occasion opening it up and squirting some into my mouth.

chrissy 🦌

i'm heading home soon, can't wait to see you y/n/n

y/n/n 💞

please get home soon

*sent picture*

chrissy🦌

mamas u can’t do that to me i'm still on the road

the lock jingles and a tall, slender man walks through the door. "immmmmm homeeee" i hear chris call out.

"i'm in here babes!" i say putting down my phone after scrolling on his instagram for a bit after messaging him.

“woah-“ chris has seen me naked multiple times but he stopped in his tracks when his eyes met my body, they then trail down to the multitude of gumdrops, gummy bears as well as the can of whipped cream that lay idol next to me.

“i thought it would be nice to surprise you with a night that’s all about you. i know how hard you’ve been working on youtube and it’s only fair that i get you a good christmas present.” i saw swinging my legs underneath the table. he drops his keys and walks over to fit between my legs, pressing his growing hard on onto me. my santa hat falls behind me when he attacks me with his lips.

our lips connect with need and lust, his hand slides towards my scalp from my cheek while his long fingers grasp at my hair pulling his face away from mine.

“i think this is the best gift i could've gotten this year.” i simply reply by moaning lost without his lips on mine anymore. chris wraps my legs around him while my arm collects the sweets and whipped cream, he goes ahead on sucking on my neck while he guides us both to his bedroom.

i land onto his bed with a plop, removing the cap from the whipped cream and squirting a bit into my mouth while chris comes down and opens his mouth to get some too. swallowing the frothy cream chris rips his shirt off attempting to match my amount of bare skin, i see the stretchy waistband barely peeking out of his pants making the man in front of me even more appealing.

he comes back to the bed after stripping coming face to face with me again and begins to speak “hey mamas? can we maybe try something please?” i nod in reply. before i could reply he unclasped my bra and slid it off of me letting my breasts bounce freely.

my hand caresses his cheek, “i trust you, forever and always.” he copies me and nods in reply before he reaches in the top drawer of his dresser and pulls out a couple of bandanas. he holds one in his mouth and scoops me up putting me closer to the edge of his bed near the pole of his bed frame. straddling me he ties my hands to the bed frame with one of the bandannas and wraps one around my head covering my eyes.

“oohh i like this,” i say rubbing my thighs together feeling the slickness of my juices spilling out of me.

chris’ pov

the girl below me is absolutely stunning, i know exactly what i want from her. “okay, this might be a little cold, don't be scared.” i squirt a little bit of the cream onto her bare right nipple, she squirms a bit underneath the cold slightly arching her back. it compensate for the uncomfortable sensation i rub her clothed clit causing a moan to fall out of her mouth.

i copy what i did to her right nipple to the left, leaving two mounds of whipped cream on top of her nipples, i smile at my accomplishment. “mmh chris,” she says layed down pushing her hips into my hand trying gain any type of friction.

i become swift with the rest of the whipped cream that i wanted to paint her body with. i draw a small C and S with the cream on her stomach enclosing it with a heart, i admire my work and add two gumdrops as an addition to the mound of cream on her boob to represent her nipple.

i remove my hand that was simultaneously circling on her clit and replace it with my tongue, i taste the material of cloth that’s the only barrier between my girl and i.

she opens her mouth wide to moan in response to the contact to her pussy. seeing this, I take the opportunity to put more whipped cream in her mouth and drop a layer of gummy bears in her mouth. her moans are muffled and she refuses to close her mouth keeping the cream in the same place as i put it down in. i pull my mouth away from her and look to my right.

i pick up the polaroid camera and my phone from the bedside table, first snapping a picture on the polaroid camera from an upwards angle showing off the wet spot on her clothes pussy and my work of art on her body. whipped cream filled her mouth and the bandanna still covered her eyes. i pull out the single film from the top of the camera and leave it on the bedside table.

my phone flashes and snaps as i take more pictures from separate angles taken in the scene i’ve made infront of me. once i’m finished i say “okay ma, you did such a good job. you ready to feel good?” a needy groan comes from her mouth.

i come over to her face and lick out all of the gummy bears and most of the cream that decorate her mouth, chewing and swallowing before i go back in. instead of taking out the cream i let it dissolve between our mouths as we kiss and i explore her mouth.

i pull back from her mouth and leave a trail of kisses down to her left boob. i lick around it, taking my time before heading straight into the pile of cream, she shrieks out of the sudden pleasure and arches her back pushing more of her breast into my mouth, i groan at the sudden choking feeling in my mouth.

i pull back and leave her boob with a pop, i move quickly to the other side of her chest giving the second one as much attention as the first. “uhhhhg chris, fuccckk” she’s whimpering and moaning while i touch her.

moving to her stomach i lick the sweet cream off leaving a trail of my drool on her still. i finally give her pussy the well deserved recognition and attention after finishing the letters i drew on to her.

i give it one more kiss before pulling down her panties, a string over arousal connects the fabric and her pussy. i spend no time connecting my mouth to her clit, sucking and licking. i put my fingers to good use and began to tease her dripping hole.

“please chris..” y/n sounds so good when she’s begging for me.

without warning her i plunge my fingers into her hole and start to work my way in and out, fast. the sound of her moaning my name and my fingers slide in and out of her echo through my heart. “i-i’m close please don’t stop,” i listen to her and give her clit a small smack with my other hand causing her to squirt on my fingers and face.

“holy fuck chris,” she says panting attempting to catch her breath. “can i please be untied and take off the blindfold i need to see you.” she says between the sweet sound of her erotic noises.

“of course you can, you deserve it after being such a good girl.” i lean back to get off the bed so i can take off my bottoms and untie her. i slide my boxers and sweats down when i stood up and then move back to the bed to untie the bandannas first from her hands then her face, a few tears streamed down the side of her face while she was laying down. i pull her up to face me.

“you think you’re okay for me to keep going?” i saw looking at her with full sincerity.

“mhm, i’m okay” she tells me nodding her head while she does. i collect a few pillows and push her head down to it face first in front of the mirror.

“all fours, ass up. i wanna see you through the mirror while i fuck you.” i say into her ear, she shivers when she hears me.

she obeys my wishes and i line up right behind her, i move my hips burying myself deep into her needy cunt groaning at the contact we both longed for.

i begin to move, sliding myself in and out, “holy shit, chris.” i pick up the pace leaning forward to reach y/n’s hair scrunching it in my hand. i pull her head up so she can see us through the mirror, her mouth is gaping open, making delicious sounds each time i pound into her, again and again.

“fuck y/n! you're so tight!” my other hand finds a place on her hips helping me slide in and out. “keep your eyes open babe, look at me fuck you.” i say in a demanding tone.

her legs begin to shake and her face contorts, she yells “chris!-“ that’s all i hear before her juices come flowing onto my cock. my thrusts get sloppy and my speed slows down a bit while i chase my high. it comes not too long after y/n’s

i push myself deep into her cumming with such force. my head hangs back while i slowly guide myself and her through our highs. i pull out and collapsed beside her, my chest heaving trying to catch my breath. i look over to y/n and she stays still with a fucked out expression on her face with tears stained onto her cheeks.

“are you alright ma?” she gives me a small smile and nods. “that was the best present ever, thank you.”

“of course, i’m glad you enjoyed it. now let’s go shower and go to bed, if i can even stand.” she chuckles at the reality of things.

“i’m sorry,” i say kissing her forehead and help her get up and head to the bathroom.

a/n - this is prolly shit 🫣

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #syn speaks #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #Spotify

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bella-rose29 · 5 months

Text

Pretty

Anthony Lockwood x gn!reader

requested by anon: Saw your post about Lockwood ideas so here's one! Reader and Lockwood have an extremely close call on a case and in the heat of the moment, Lockwood ends up kissing the reader.

Made this one gn since no gender was specified! hopefully I haven't messed up anywhere with that (pls let me know tho)

I am also so so sorry about how long this took anon 😭 I have nobody to blame but myself for that I won't lie

lockwood has his tea like Cameron and I'm convinced it's a fact

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: swearing, they fight some visitors

Tag list: @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @wandamaximoffbae, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

As always, let me know here if you'd like to be added to/removed from my Lockwood and Co tag list, or send me a message! <3

(not my image, also I'm fully aware of how many times I use this one)

"Hey, I've just put the kettle on, d'you want tea?" Lucy chirped as Y/n entered the kitchen, paperwork in hand. They nodded gratefully, shoving the papers onto the table and flopping in a chair. "What's all that for?" Lucy asked, gesturing to the multiple files now scattered in front of Y/n.

"The case tonight. Lockwood's refusing to help me with the research, the little shit. Says he's got 'important business' to go on, whatever that means." They frowned, remembering how he'd been essentially ignoring them all day. "Did I do something to upset him?" they asked Lucy, looking up at the girl.

"Don't think so. Why?"

"Don't know. Just, he hasn't talked to me all day, so I-" Y/n was cut off by Lucy's snort of laughter, and their frown deepened. "What?! Why are you laughing?!"

"He hasn't talked to you all day? God, just tell him you like him already!"

Y/n flushed at her words, and threw a scrunched up piece of paper at Lucy. "Shut up," they mumbled, crossing their arms and slouching in their chair. Lucy only laughed more, handing over a cup of tea and sitting down next to her friend as she started to rifle through the papers. "What are you doing?"

"Helping you out, silly. If Lockwood won't do it, I will. You'll be so unprepared otherwise, and I can't have my best friend dying yet."

"Thanks, Luce."

"Sure," she shrugged, studying a news article. "Dunno why you like him though. He can be a monumental tw-"

"Hi Lucy, Y/n," Lockwood said, stepping through the door with carrier bags in his hands. He looked at them, wondering why they were suddenly quiet when he'd heard the two of them talking before he walked in, but when he saw the kettle boiled on the side that was ready for him to make his tea to his liking he forgot all about it. Dumping the bags, he moved to the cupboards and reached for the honey, pouring the right amount into the mug. Lockwood heard the scrape of a chair and a whispered protest as he added the white sugar (one teaspoon), and turning around he found Lucy getting up to leave and Y/n tugging on her arm and begging her to stay. Lucy had a wicked grin, though, and in one swift movement she'd unhanded herself from Y/n and skipped out of the door, and a moment later her footsteps could be heard on the stairs.

Y/n was glaring at the door, as if it would bring Lucy back to the kitchen, but when Lockwood sat down next to them with his cup of tea in one hand and the deft fingers of his other picking up a pile of papers, their expression immediately softened.

"Glad you finally felt you could grace the plebs with your presence, my lord," they joked, hoping he would apologise for being absent all day. He cracked a smile, shaking his head as he chuckled.

"Can't be around all the time, can I? You'll boost my ego too much."

"I would argue we reign your ego in. Honestly, I'm suffocating on it right now." Their eyes were wide in mock frankness, making Lockwood laugh more. "Seriously though," Y/n said when he'd calmed down a little. "Where were you?" They tried to not sound too hurt, but Lockwood picked up on it like he always did.

"I told you, I had important business-"

"What 'important business', Lockwood? Because I've had to do this research on my own, and there's way too much of it!" He at least had the good grace to look sheepish, scratching the back of his neck and mumbling something into his tea. George entered the kitchen then, pausing whatever conversation Y/n and Lockwood had been having. He stood in the doorway, picking up on the strange atmosphere but not knowing what to do about it, and shook his head as he went to make a sandwich. None of them talked, and George kept casting the two of them weird looks as he moved around the kitchen, looking like he wanted to say something but never getting that far, until eventually he finished making his lunch and left, closing the door with a soft click (and a loud protest from the hinges) behind him. Y/n had turned back to their papers, attempting to read over the documents and figure out the history of the building before they headed out for the evening. "Are you at least gonna help me now?" they sighed, looking back up at him. He nodded, washing out the mug of tea that he'd downed in the last few minutes.

They sat in silence for a while after that, only talking when one of them found something interesting or worth making note of. Lockwood stopped rifling through papers at one point, file limp in his hand while he studied his coworker. "I'm sorry," he said, and although his voice was quiet it startled Y/n. "I just- I know I'm difficult sometimes- okay, fine, a lot of the time," he amended at Y/n's raised eyebrows. "But I really did have important business to attend to. I was stocking up on equipment for tonight. Not much, just a couple of flares."

"And that took you the whole day? George has only just come down for lunch and it's three in the afternoon."

"I was also..." he sighed through his nose, irritation flitting across his face. "I was also getting this," he said, rushing the words as he yanked something out of his jacket pocket. How he'd ever got the item in there in the first place Y/n had no clue, since they weren't aware of Lockwood having pockets that large.

"What is it?" they asked, skeptical of the rectangular object they now held. It had been expertly wrapped, with a nice little bow on the front, and when Lockwood simply gestured for them to open it they peeled the paper off, revealing the book inside. "Is this-"

"Took me ages to find a store that had it. I know how much you've been obsessing about getting it so I figured since I was out I might as well. I didn't realise how long it would take though, and I didn't exactly want to admit that to you either."

"Lockwood, you really didn't have to do-"

"Shush, or I'll return it." That shut them up, making them clutch the book close to their chest as if to prevent him from taking it away. "Come on. We've got work to do."

~~~

Half an hour later Lockwood was making another cup of tea for both of them, laughing as Y/n complained about some of the details (or lack thereof) in the building plans.

"I mean, there's an entire room that just... doesn't exist on the floor plans, even though we went to the house! How does that happen? It's not even an extension- oh, thank you," they were interrupted when Lockwood passed them their mug, hot tea warming Y/n's hands as they gripped the beverage. His hand lingered on the handle a moment longer than was necessary, his gaze catching on theirs, and Y/n held their breath when their fingers brushed. Lockwood seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was in, jerking his arm back, clearing his throat, and shuffling over to his own seat.

It was weird; they'd brushed past each other on the stairs and had curled up next to each other on sofas before, and held (very limited) eye contact every day (it was awkward holding it for more than a few seconds, even with Lockwood), so why was this time any different?

They spent the next few hours in more silence, the atmosphere mildly awkward as they worked, and by the time they pulled up to the house in the back of the taxi not long before sundown Y/n thought they might burst from the sheer amount of tension they could feel.

They had always been an overthinker, analysing minuscule details that, in reality, probably didn't matter, but for some reason stuck in Y/n's head for months after. It didn't help that they had feelings for Lockwood, since it made every touch or lingering glance have a stronger effect on their overthinking tendencies, and very often took them out of the real world and into their own head.

Which was unfortunate when they needed to be very much in the real world to fight Visitors.

In fairness, the man that owned the property had told them (with a shocking amount of certainty) that there were two Type Ones, one Shade and one Lurker, and while Y/n was inclined to disagree that he knew best, Lockwood was flashing a winning smile and grasping the keys, assuring the owner that Type Ones were nothing the pair of them couldn't handle.

They set up their chains and defences, did an initial reading of the whole house (the stairs came back as the coldest at nine degrees, with the upstairs family bathroom a close second at ten - worrying for the early hour), then returned to the kitchen and put the kettle on, cracking open a packet of biscuits.

"Are you sure about what he said? I mean he's what, late thirties to early forties? How reliable is he for identifying Type Ones if he won't be able to see them?"

"Look, we have no reason to distrust hi-"

"I literally just gave a reason."

"Okay, fine. No reason to distrust him yet. Everything we've seen so far from our initial readings is pointing to Type Ones, and we're Lockwood and Co. This isn't anything we can't handle." Y/n had been about to protest again, to say something about how the stairs and bathroom really shouldn't have been so cold this early on, but then he had smiled at them, one reserved purely for his friends, and they melted, all thoughts of danger gone out of their head.

Perhaps they should have fought harder against him, or perhaps they shouldn't have become too wrapped up in the moments from the kitchen earlier, but either way they didn't notice the Limbless until it had nearly pushed its misshapen body through their head.

~~~

Lockwood had shoved them out the way, their bodies rolling over each other as they tumbled down the hallway, the air shifting as the Limbless soared over them.

Lockwood ended up on top, his body shielding Y/n's, and he lifted his head up from where it had previously been in their neck, asking a desperate "Are you okay?" They nodded in response, too shaken to do much else, and then Lockwood was up, yanking their arm to pull them up beside him as he drew his rapier. Y/n did the same, hands trembling slightly as they finally registered the miasma that felt like it was suffocating them.

"Limbless, but we can handle that. You getting anything that can help?" He was referencing Y/n's Touch, but when they pressed their hand to the bannister experimentally the feeling of fear that washed over them was so strong they stumbled back, bumping into Lockwood.

"Shit, that was not fun," they said, grimacing at the headache they could already feel forming. "We can't use flares, Lockwood, it's too cramped in here. We're gonna have to draw it away if we can, then find the Source. It's got to be the stairs somehow, I just can't figure it out."

"Okay. Here's the plan," he started, but Y/n was unfocused, staring down the hallway over his shoulder.

"Lockwood?"

"You figure out where the Source is, I'll hold it off-"

"Lockwood?"

"-and then we'll be out of here and back home with a cup of tea within the hour."

"LOCKWOOD!"

"What? Why are you shou-"

Y/n grabbed his face in both of their hands, pushing him around to see what was behind him.

"Shit," he said, paling. Where there had only been a single Limbless to deal with before, the number of Visitors had gone up, with Shades and Lurkers that the owner had mentioned earlier joining the now two Limbless that were hovering at the end of the hallway. The feeling of miasma was washing over the two of them like a tidal wave, and Y/n pressed a hand to their mouth to try and stop throwing up. "We can still do this?" he said, although it sounded more like a question than an inspirational chat to his teammate.

"Lockwood, we need to just go. There's no way we can do this on our own, your pride be damned."

"Okay, okay. We'll collect as much of our kit as we can then, a lot of it is new and I don't want it being wasted. Do you think you're up for it? You look very ill," he frowned, concern for Y/n working its way into every movement of his body.

"Can't we just ditch the kit and get out?"

"As much as I'd love to, we are incredibly under equipped right now and have to pass through the kitchen anyway. We'd do well to have a few extra supplies on us, don't you think?" His voice was gentle, nothing condescending about his question, and Y/n found themselves nodding when he searched their eyes for an answer. His whole body relaxed, and then he was grabbing their hand and slowly retreating towards the kitchen, hoping not to alert the Visitors to their presence.

They were doing well, nearly past the kitchen threshold, up until Lockwood brushed his thumb over the back of Y/n's hand and they stumbled slightly, scuffing their foot on the floorboards and kicking a cabinet.

The Limbless (both of them) snapped their bloated heads to face the two agents, and Lockwood and Y/n only had a brief second to share a look when the ghosts came soaring towards them before he was tugging them into the kitchen, slamming the door behind them and rushing past the counter.

"Pick up what you can, anything to defend yourself with!" he shouted, wheeling around to grab a bag. They made a move towards the iron chains and added a ring to the circle that they'd already made, doubling up the strength of the invisible wall, then dragged in the kit they could reach and stood within the circle.

"Lockwood! Get in here!"

He made a mad dash for them, eyes wide and face flushed from the cold that was now creeping in to the kitchen. "Okay, what now? We'll be protected for a little while but we can't stay for-"

"Calm down, alright? We can sort out our kit in here, quickly, and then use the back door just there. We might have to leave some of these chains behind though, they're pretty heavy."

"Temperature's dropped significantly. That's not a good sign. Do you think there are more hauntings in here?"

"I wouldn't put it past this place. Besides, it's eleven. The others all came out quite early." They crouched down, starting to work methodically through the bags, but Lockwood stayed standing.

"What would I do without you, hey?"

Y/n tried not to flush at the compliment, remembering that the previous two times they'd been caught up in analysing everything that happened between the two of them they'd invoked danger, and continued going through the bags. "Can you help please? Instead of standing there like a lemon."

It took them five minutes to finish up, bags being zipped and thrown over shoulders, belts checked for stock and rapiers drawn. They would have to leave the chains behind, which was a shame, but necessary if they wanted to be able to move quickly. "On three?" Lockwood asked, glancing over his shoulder to check with Y/n. They nodded, bracing themselves for the run. Lockwood started counting down, and just as he said "Three" the kitchen door blew off its hinges.

~~~

"Shit! Go!" A Poltergeist, manifesting in the kitchen and manipulating the room if the many knives that were now floating in the air were anything to go by. The back door was only a couple of metres away, but the real question was whether they could outrun the blades.

They almost did, launching themselves out the exit and slamming the door shut behind them, and Lockwood breathed a sigh of relief until he saw the blood on Y/n's arm. "It's fine," they said when they caught him looking, moving away from the door. "We should get out of here."

He didn't say anything, instead sheathing his rapier and dropping the bag he was holding to grab Y/n's face and kiss them. Y/n almost dropped their own things, about to reach up and draw him in further, but he was pulling back before they could, picking up the kit and moving away from the house. "Come on! We need to find a taxi!" Y/n stood gaping at his retreating form before they heard the wailings of some of the Visitors inside and quickly followed after him.

~~~

The taxi ride home was awkward.

Lockwood wasn't looking at Y/n, and they were starting to feel increasingly uncomfortable with the amount of silence that enveloped the two of them.

"I'm sorry," Lockwood said, making Y/n jump slightly even though his voice was quiet.

"...What for?"

"For- I shouldn't have- I- For kissing you." He still wasn't looking at them, so he couldn't see the stifled smile on their face.

"It's okay, Lockwood."

"No, I should have just got us out of there instead of- I put us in danger and that was stupid of me," he turned to face them, expression earnest. "And I don't even know how you..." he trailed off, blushing.

"It wasn't... I wouldn't mind doing it again, if that's... where you're going?" Y/n was surprised at the confidence they had to admit that, given how bad they were normally at expressing their feelings for him. Lockwood blushed slightly, his cheeks tinted pink, and his eyes widened.

"Uh- okay," he said, hiding his smile behind his hand as he braced his elbow on the door. "Are you sure you're okay? You're bleeding a lot."

"I'm sure it's fine. I think it's only shallow, and most of the blood is dried now. If it'll make you feel better you can bandage me up when we get back."

"Okay. I'll put the kettle on, too. I really need a cup of tea right now."

~~~

True to his word, Lockwood put the kettle on the stove and grabbed two mugs out of the cupboard before heading to the bathroom for the medical kit. He then patched Y/n's arm up (who was right about it only being shallow, but that didn't stop Lockwood fussing over them), concentrating far more than he needed to but taking his time with the dressing in a way that made Y/n's heart flutter at his attentiveness.

Now they sat at the kitchen table with steaming mugs of tea, a plate of biscuits between them as they talked about both everything and nothing, the sun rising and casting the kitchen in a golden light. At some point Lucy appeared, making herself her own cup of tea and heading back upstairs to the attic afterwards, murmuring a sleepy 'morning' to her friends as she shut the door behind her.

Y/n shut their eyes, soaking in the freshly made cup of tea (Lucy had made a large pot for the three of them) and the small warmth that the sun pouring through the window provided. They could feel Lockwood watching them, and sure enough when Y/n cracked an eye open he was focused on them, a soft smile on his face while he sipped his tea. "What?" they asked, a smile of their own forming.

"Nothing. You just look really... really pretty."

"Pretty?" Y/n asked, and Lockwood blushed a little, spluttering as he tried to explain himself.

"I don't know how else to describe you! I can come up with something else if you'd prefer, I just thought it fit! You know, with the light on your face and you looked really peaceful and lovely and..." he trailed off into unintelligible mumbles, turning to stare at the thinking cloth instead of Y/n's face as his blush grew brighter. They laughed in response, leaning forward across the small space between them to grab Lockwood by the tie and pull him in for a kiss. It was short and sweet, but still left the two of them breathless and flushed, and the resultant smile on Lockwood's face was well worth the amount of nervous butterflies in Y/n's stomach.

"You're pretty too, Lockwood."

#lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood x you

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cherrycudy · 1 year

Note

soft dom scaramouch x fem reader pls

"Let me take the lead, dear"

Soft!Dom scaramouche X fem!reader

NSFW: vanilla sex, slightly angsty, some story quest spoilers!!!

Note: e/c = eye colour. This is the only prompt I came up with, so pls enjoy, sorry in advance if this sucks, might be cringe 💀, not edited

It's been a while since you've seen your lover. Ever since he left for Sumeru, it's been hell for you. No message after he left, no sign of him coming back. He had left you for 3 months, worrying and in pain. You thought he may have died after you heard all the commotion in Sumeru. You've never broken down in tears like this before, this feeling was new to you, sadness, anger and betrayal. Everything was going to hell, until you heard knocking at the front door. Pulling yourself together, you try your best to hide the tears before opening your front door, to your suprise who was there; your boyfriend, Scaramouche.

Scara kissed the tears running down your cheeks in a reassuring manner.

"It's alright now, my love, I'm here now"

Scara sighs as he pulls you into a tight hug, caressing your hair and pulling you closer, tightening any distance that was between you, his head buried in the crook of your neck.

"I love you so much, I'm so sorry, I would never leave you, ever again..." He bit his bottom lip, tears starting to form. He couldn't believe it. He had been betrayed multiple times, and yet he betrayed his only lover. The woman who loved him so much, he was sure that you would kick him out, scream at him, anything, but he was met with your embrace. This is why he loves you so much, you made him feel everything, but betrayal. You did so much, and he didn't consider your feelings when he took off with the gnosis. He wants to make it up to you, he wants you, he needs you, and he knows, you need him too.

He slowly placed you onto your shared bed, the light were dim and the door was closed. A long veiny hand was placed on your cheek. Regretful eyes met your e/c ones.

"Please, let me make it up to you, my love"

You nod in anticipation. His hand trailing from your face down to your shirt, removing your top gently and throwing it on the floor, you chest now exposed, he wasn't done yet though. Gently, he removed your pants exposing your panties. He undoes some of his buttons of his button up, as he does so, he gently peppers your face with kisses, his hands landing on yours, pinning them by your side, he was on top of you, kissing you passionately, which you kiss back, matching the passion.

A hand ran down your neck as he too slowly moved from kissing your lips onto your soft neck and collarbone, making you slightly moan at the feeling.

"I love you so much my dear, so please, let me pleasure you"

He wanted to make sure you were alright with everything that was happening, he didn't want to hurt you again, never again. You slowly nodded, showing your consent, a smile formed on his face.

"I'll make sure I'm the only one who can satisfy you like this, my dove"

And with that, he began marking your from your neck trailing down to your abdomen, licking and sucking the sensitive skin. His hands holster your legs as he gently slips off your underwear, revealing your now exposed pussy. It has been a while since you last did it with him, so he thought he'd prepare you first before the big thing.

Slow and gentle strokes from his tongue played with your now aching clit. You moan in anticipation.

"Now now love, I won't tease you any further~" he cooed from between your legs. The soft and playful licks near your hole made your back arch from the sudden contact. Scaramouche kept his promise, and waste no time pushing his tongue into your tight walls, earning a satisfied moan that escaped from your pretty lips.

Scara focused on your pleasure and only your pleasure alone as he quickened the pace of his tongue. He could feel his pants tighten from the dirty act, oh why did you have to look so erotic? But he must hold back, this is his way of apology, but this won't be his only apology of course, but he has to make up for the months that had gone by.

With a fastened pace with his tongue, he could tell that you were close. Quickly, he rubbed swift circles on your aching bud with the other hand squeezing your thigh. You swore you could see stars by how much pleasure you were getting.

"Scara! I-Im gonna cum!"

You scream, tears in your eyes from the stimulation. He wastes no time fastening the rubbing on your clit before you finally release. He could feel his own pre drip through his clothed cock, feeling it twitch. He unbuckled his pants as he watched as you gasp for air. The pretty sight earning a twitch from his member. He needs you now, but only if you'll allow him. He wants to make sure you know that he is yours forever.

"Doll, are you ready?"

He asks as he leans on top of you, this time, he leads your hands to place them around his neck. You hum in approval, showing him that you're ready. Slowly, he aligns his member with your entrance, kissing you passionately while doing so. He begins with a controlled pace, earning eager moans from you, and small grunts from him.

"I-Im want to do better for you, love, I want to be better for you..."

His pace begins to gradually quicken from a slow pace. You both can feel your highs, a need to release into each other. His hand goes back to your clit while the other finds its way to your nipple, rubbing circles around it too. Finally, you both release into each other, feeling the thick warm seed drip out of you, you let out a tired moan.

"I love you, y/n, I promise, I'll never leave you, abandon you like that ever again..."

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #wanderer #scaramouche smut #scaramouche fluff #genshin fluff

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stayboba · 2 years

Text

𝕷𝖊𝖙 𝕲𝖔

‘Let Go’

Jisung (Han) x fem!reader

Your feelings for Jisung and the jealousy you have for a certain staff member cause you to distance yourself from him, until one night the truth comes out...

Word Count: 6.9k

Genres: Friends to lovers cause i’m a sucker for this trope, Slight Angst (happy ending), Smut (18+ minors DNI)

Warnings: A lil angsty, smut, mature content (18+ minors DNI), negative self-talk, reader cries, jealously/insecurity themes, oral/fingering (f. receiving), overstimulation (f. receiving), spitting, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of voyeurism, mature language

‘have u gotten off work yet?’ You hear a ping at the arrival of Jisung’s text. You read it as you simultaneously lock your office door, closing up for the evening.

‘just did, what’s up?’ You type back, rounding the block. It doesn’t take long before your phone goes off again.

‘wanna come hang out at the studio? it won’t be long, we should be finished with what we’re working soon.’ Your hand tenses around the device as you scan over his response. Another message pops up under the one you’re reading.

‘plus, changbin is starting to get rowdy cause we’re kinda stuck on this one track... we could use the extra pair of ears pls.’ This one is followed by the emoji with the teary, black eyes and the mouth drawn into a pout.

You sigh, letting your shoulders drop. It’s not that you didn’t want to see your friend. Lately, you've just developed a tendency to be avoidant of Jisung. Especially when it comes to being in the studio with him. Nonetheless, this time you decide to swallow your pride.

‘yeah, sure! that sounds good :)’ You respond, shaking yourself out of your mood.

‘yay! that’s good because i already placed an order for takeout and i need u to go pick it up before u get here pls. lolololololol...’ You roll your eyes yet change your route towards yours and Jisung's favorite restaurant.

As you approach the recording room, you can already feel the pressure building in your ear canals. The bass spills into the hallway, resonating throughout the walls. You struggle to open the door with the large takeout bag that you’re carrying in your arms. Somehow, you can hear the sound of Jisung’s footsteps scurrying over to you.

“I got it!” He shouts over the music. He takes the bag from you and sets it on the coffee table in front of the couch. Your arms feel like the noodles you ordered as you go to shut the door behind you.

“Hey, (Y/n)! Thanks for stopping by!” Chan turns around in his chair at the computer desk to greet you. Changbin sits next to him, clicking away at the computer mouse.

“Arrggh!” He yells, snatching the pair of headphones off his head. He turns to Chan, then sees you out of the corner of his eye.

“Oh,” His ears go red when he realizes you've seen his mini tantrum. “Hey, (Y/n).”

“Hey guys!” You laugh, taking a seat next to Jisung on the couch. You give his shoulder a smack as he reaches into the bag.

“Ow!” He retreats, grasping his “injury” with his hand. “What did you do that for?”

“Why the hell would you put the order name under ‘J.ONE’ and not tell me?” At this, Jisung bursts into a fit of laughter. This earns a few giggles from Chan and a sly smile from Changbin.

"What do you mean?? I use that name at that place all the time," He clasps his hand to his chest, faking a heartbreak. "How could you not remember?"

“Liar! That cashier looked at me like I was stupid,” You grimace, snatching your food container out of the bag. “He had to go back and read all of the recent orders one by one! I was holding up the line!” Jisung just snickers at the account of your awkward experience.

“Alright, alright! Maybe I recently started using it to troll,” He’s removing the lid to his own food, already slurping away at a mouthful of noodles. “But you haven’t uh... well never mind.” His eyes fall from yours to the floor.

You feel a twinge at your heart when you realize what he might have been about to say. This is the first time you’ve gotten food together in a while, the first time you haven’t made an excuse for not coming to see him. Still, you opt not to take the discussion any farther and instead begin to eat your food.

You keep to yourself like this for a while, munching away at your teriyaki chicken while watching Chan and Changbin fidget with the computer. You try to ignore your own guilty thoughts and the occasional burn of Jisung’s eyes into the side of your head. Unable to bare the strong silence, despite the loud music snippets playing every now and then, you clear your throat.

“Ji said you guys were stuck on a track?” You asked the two at the computer. Chan replies with a sigh.

“Yeah, we can’t decide what beat works best with what we have so far.” Changbin turns in his seat again, glaring over at the youngest of the three producers.

“Hey, Han! Why don’t you get back to helping us make a decision!” He shouts at him. Jisung sinks into the couch beside you.

“Okay, okay... I’m almost done.” He starts to eat the rest of his noodles one at a time, making you giggle. The two of you exchange a look for a few seconds before you avert your gaze away again. Chan suddenly looks over his shoulder at you and gets an idea.

“Why don’t we just play them for (Y/n)? See what she thinks?” Now all three pairs of eyes are on you.

“Well... sure. I’ll try!” Changbin gets up, offering you his chair. You sit yourself down, putting the headphones on over your ears. Chan plays his first, then Changbin. You nod your head to the boom of the bass, understanding why this is such a hard choice to make now.

“Han, come play yours now,” Chan says. Jisung sets his noodle container down, walking over to the desk. Your breath hitches when he leans over you, standing so close. His hand brushes yours as he reaches for the mouse. That’s when you hear the door open.

“Hey, Sori!” Your heart drops as you whip your head around to see a woman walk into the room, her bright smile practically lighting the place up. Your eyes instantly flit over to Jisung, and your lip goes into a frown when you see he’s looking at her with a smile just as bright.

“What’s up!?” There’s an almost sickly, sweet tone to her voice.

“We’re just trying to decide what kind of beat we want to use for the bass on this track,” Chan says, gesturing over to the computer. As Sori’s eyes lock with yours, you want nothing more than to either disappear or kick yourself for coming here.

“Hi (Y/n)!” Sori chirps, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, hey!” You say, trying to hide any signs of unease that might be on your face.

“I was just about to play the one I made.” Says Jisung.

“Cool! Can I have a listen?” She looks to you, pointing at the headphones.

“Oh, yeah sure!” You hesitate before taking them off and handing them over to her. You get up so she can sit down in your previous spot.

“Okay, ready?” Jisung’s eyes are full of anticipation as he looks down at her.

“Mhm!” He hits the play button, leaning on the desk. You watch Sori’s face in the silence as she listens to the music. Her brow furrows before an impressed grin spreads across her face.

“Oh my gosh, this one! This is it, you have to use this one!” She gawks. Jisung begins to shake his fists in excitement.

“Really, you think so?” She brings her hand up to rest it on his leg.

“Yes, definitely! This sounds really good, Jisung!” You cross your arms across your chest in hopes of making yourself smaller when you hear her call him that. You’re screaming at yourself to look away but at the same you can't resist the urge to watch.

“Now hold on! You haven’t even listened to mine yet!” Changbin argues, and the whole room laughs. You’re mustering a fake smile while trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

“I’ll be right back, I’m going to the bathroom.” You blurt out before leaving the room. You walk at a hurried pace down the hallway. Much to your relief, you find the restroom empty when you get there. You hunch over the sink, peering up into the mirror.

You knew deep down that Sori was just a staff member, someone who worked with Jisung. You also knew that she was just a friendly person, which of course she fucking was because everything about her was perfect. She was probably just being nice whenever she interacted with Jisung or any of the other members. And so was he, always striving to keep things professional.

But these rational pieces of knowledge could never stop you from feeling on edge whenever she was around. No amount of reason could lighten the dark shade of green on your face from every smile, every laugh, and every harmless touch that Sori and Jisung shared.

All because you are in love with your best friend and pretty much always have been. This was probably most unfortunate of all because you knew that you couldn’t be with him. A relationship with him would be seen as a scandal, it would be a blow to his career, and you could never do that to him. So, you’ve kept silent all this time.

Yet this didn’t stop the growing envy you felt when Sori was around and in turn, your jealousy could never deter your feelings for Jisung. You were simply caught in the middle of the crossfire of emotions within you. You had to let go of him before you got yourself, or even worse: him, hurt.

Somehow, you manage to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. You pull yourself together before leaving to go back to the studio. Before you can make it over, you see Jisung in the hallway. His lips go up in a thin smile when he catches sight of you.

“Hey, you okay?” He asks. You give him a nod.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” His eyes linger on your face for a minute before he lets out a hum.

“We finished up. Chan and Bin have some other stuff to do but I think I’m ready to get out of here,” he says with a laugh. “If you’re not busy, do you want to come back to the dorm with me? I think it’s just Seungmin, Felix, and Jeongin there. We could watch a movie or something.” You feel bad for admitting it but getting away from the studio (and away from Sori) with him sets your mind at ease.

“Yeah! I’m in...” You breathe out. His smile gets wider as the two of you start to walk down the hallway together. You wrap your jacket tighter around yourself as you step out into the cool night air.

“I’m glad you came by today" Jisung tells you as you round the block. “I haven’t seen you in a while.” You gnaw at your lip as the familiar feeling of guilt creeps in.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry. I’ve just been busy...” You lie. He shakes his head, waving it off.

“Ah, it’s okay. If there’s anyone who should understand, it’s me!” You stride farther down the pavement before coming to a crosswalk. While you’re waiting for the sign to go, Jisung turns back to you again.

“You’re not mad at me, or anything are you?” His words appear to be a joke at first, but the tilt of his head tells you his question is somewhat genuine.

“Of course not, Ji,” You try to sound as reassuring as possible, which was hard to do. Not because you hated him but because of everything going on in your head.

“I haven’t forgiven you for the ‘J.ONE’ thing exactly, but I couldn’t ever be mad you. Not even for that!” He smiles as the sign turns green and the two of you begin to walk again.

“Good, because I would really hate it if you did...” You direct your head away from him, so he doesn’t see the red tint on your cheeks.

“Wanna make a convenient store run? Snacks are on me!” The corner of your mouth raises in a half smile.

“For sure!” You exclaim, skipping into the store with him.

Jisung struggles to get the keys into the door with the pile of snacks tucked in his arms. And you have it no better, pretty much carrying the same amount. Instead, he opts to knock/kick the door while yelling for someone to come let the two of you in.

“Jisung! You’re gonna wake the whole hall!” He looks back at you with a shiny grin on his face as you scold him. A moment later, Felix comes to answer the door, hair disheveled and eyes heavy with sleep.

“Why didn’t you use your key?” The blonde grumbles. Jisung holds out the snacks in response.

“I’ll take that, thank you!” Felix takes a bag of chips from the top of the mountain, stepping aside to let the two of you walk in. You immediately drop all of the snacks onto the kitchen counter, rummaging for the ones you wanted to eat first.

When Jisung has his haul picked out, he settles on the edge of the couch. He grabs the remote to start looking for a movie to watch. Felix plops down next to him, opening the bag he took earlier. Jisung glares over at him.

"I thought you were in bed earlier." Felix holds up a chip in Jisung's face.

"It's late night snack time!" He explains before popping it into his mouth. Jisung rolls his eyes but doesn't tell him to leave. You're still in the kitchen, slipping your shoes off and fixing yourself some water. That's when Seungmin and Jeongin tread into the room. Jeongin's eyes are like beacons in the television lighting.

"We're watching a movie!?" The youngest member says, excitedly, jumping onto the couch beside Felix.

"Hi, (Y/n)!" Seungmin waves at you as he joins you in the kitchen. The two must be caffeinated or something, probably taking a break from a video game marathon.

"Hey, Min!" You say back. He eyes the snacks on the counter.

"You can take some if you want." You go ahead and tell him.

"Thanks!" He says, taking some type of chocolate snack from the stash. He goes back over to the living room, sitting down next to Jeongin.

“Oh yeah, sure guys! You can join us!” Jisung states, sarcastically. The three younger boys stick their tongues out at him in sync. You walk out of the kitchen with your snacks, realizing there’s no more room on the couch. Jisung shoots his members a glare but then he gets an idea. You watch him as he parts his knees.

“You can come sit here.” He tells you, lips pressed into that familiar, thin smile. That’s when a memory pops into your head.

One night you were upset about something, you can’t remember what it was now. But you had called Jisung and he dropped everything to come over and be there for you. You were crying so hard that you couldn’t even heave yourself up on the couch. So he just sat behind you, leaning over to hold you just like that. But then it became a habit whenever you were hanging out with him, to sit like that during movies or while you were playing video games together... so it has its happy memories too.

“Okay...” Your heart begins to flutter as you settle yourself down on the floor in between him. Jisung presses play on the movie and you rest your cheek on one of his knees. That's when you feel his hands absentmindedly combing through your hair. Your eyes are glued to the screen but nothing about the movie registers with you. All you can focus on is his touch.

But rather than bringing you comfort, it brings you heartache. You know the truth is that there was nothing more to his gesture than friendliness. It's merely platonic. Maybe it's because he wouldn’t see anyone for the sake of his career, maybe it was because he was secretly dating Sori... a million different scenarios flood your thoughts. No matter what the reason might be, you told yourself over and over again that you would always be friends with Jisung and nothing else.

You finally felt all the emotions that you had bottled up that day spill over. A tear began to fall down your cheek. You try your best to keep the boys from noticing the hiccup in your chest. You sniffled and you fell Jisung’s hand pause against you at the noise. You slightly panic as it moved over to the side of your head, brushing the hair out of the way to expose your face. Before you could turn away his fingers were already brushing a tear off of your cheek.

“Hey...” He says in a hushed voice so only you can hear. You slowly turn your head back to face him. Your glassy eyes lock onto his and you notice the mix of emotions that he's holding within them.

“We’ll be back...” Jisung mutters to the other boys before getting up and pulling you off the ground. The others make a few grunts of acknowledgment, too invested in the movie to give much thought to the fact that Jisung was now leading you down the hallway to his room, alone.

Once he closes the door behind him, he gently guides you to sit down on the bed with his hands pressed to your shoulders. A soft sob forces out of you as you bury your face in your palms.

“What’s been going on?” He asks, voice soothing. “Talk to me... I’m here.” You shake your head, throwing your hands up to drop into your lap.

“I’m sorry, I’m being stupid...” Your lip trembles as you speak. You couldn’t believe you had let your feelings get this far and all because you just couldn’t learn to let go. Jisung starts to rub at your shoulders.

“No, you’re not,” he says, reassuringly. “I knew something had to be bothering you. You just need to let it out, so go ahead.” You shake your head once again in protest.

“I can’t tell you...” You whisper.

“Of course, you can! (Y/n), you know there isn’t a thing in this world that you can’t tell me.” He wraps his arms around you, and you welcome it, letting your head sink into his chest.

“It’ll change everything.” His hold tightens around you.

“Maybe it will, but it can’t change the fact that I am your friend and I’m gonna be with you and you with me no matter what. It has and always will be that way.”

"But I don't want to be friends..." You mutter against his sweatshirt.

"What?" He questions, pulling away to look at you again. You let your eyes linger on his concerned face for a moment before you finally reveal what your heart had been wanting all this time.

“Ji... I’m in love with you.” He doesn’t say anything, surely just processing, but your heart drops anyway. You quickly continue in order to distract yourself from the shift in the air.

“But... I know it’s not appropriate for you to be in a relationship with your image and everything. So, I completely understand. It’s why I haven’t said anything but...”

“(Y/n), I don’t give a shit about that stuff anymore.” He says, cutting you off. “I mean yeah I used to when we were getting started but... I promise it doesn't matter to me anymore."

“Oh...” Your feet begin to fidget at the sudden tension within the room, making you blurt the next part without thinking. “So you must be with Sori then.”

“What?” Jisung asks, furrowing his brow at you.

“Hey, It’s okay! I won’t tell anyone! I get it if you’re trying to break it to the public slowly or...”

“(Y/n), I’m not with Sori.” He tells you, leaving you taken aback once more.

“Wait why?” But his smile is already answering your question for him.

“Because she’s not who I want,” He takes your hands in his. “You are...” You thought you misheard him. Did he really just say that? Or are you so hysterical right now that you hallucinated it? Are you dreaming?

“Wh-what? Wait I-” His finger comes up to press against your lips.

“Stop talking,” He coos. “Save those pretty lips for something useful...” With that, he’s cupping your face in his hands and bringing it to his. Warmness spreads throughout your chest as he presses his lips to yours. You had always wondered how this would feel...

“Ji...” You whisper against him when you finally part. He pulls you to sit in his lap, latching his lips back onto you as his hands enclose around your waist. His kisses leave you breathless, the plush of his skin against yours making you feel faint.

“It’s always been you. I’ve always loved you and I’m an idiot for not telling you sooner...” He looks up at your flushed face, intertwining his finger with yours.

“It’s okay,” You say, shaking your head. “We’re here now, that’s all that matters.” His face scrunches as you place a kiss on his nose. He lets you shrug off your jacket before going back to kissing you. His hands wander anywhere they can, eager to make up for lost time.

He decides to then carefully lay you down under him, allowing the kiss to become more feverish. The warm, wetness of your mouth makes his head grow cloudier and he can’t help but slip his tongue in. You moan into him for the first time and it’s a sound he wishes to relive over and over again.

“Fuck, (Y/n)...” He pulls away, leaving the two of you gasping for air.

“We don’t have to keep going if you don't want to.” He tells you, lips hovering over yours with sheer inches in between them. “But if we keep carrying on like this... I’m not gonna be able to stop myself.”

You contemplate, staring back up at him with weighted eyelids.

“Don’t stop now, Ji,” You begin to plead. “We’ve kept ourselves from each other all this time, please don’t stop now.” You watch the look in his eyes take a dark turn as they scan across your face.

“I’m sorry, hang on...” You’re confused when he suddenly pushes himself off of you, going to reach for his phone. You sit up and peer over his shoulder, eyes going wide when you see he’s texting the three boys out in the living room.

‘get out or turn the movie up...’ He tells them. The three text bubbles show up instantly.

‘Dude...’ ‘why???’ ‘bruh’ Jisung scoffs, throwing his phone across the bed. He looks back at you as if he’s going to eat you alive. Suddenly, he’s pushing you underneath him again. Without warning, his lips cascade down your neck, kissing and licking over your sensitive spots. What takes you even more by surprise is when he slides his knee in between your legs, rutting it against you.

“Ji!” You moan loudly. That’s when you hear screeches of terror come from down the hall, followed by the front door slamming and the TV volume blasting up.

“Well, that worked like a charm.” He chuckles, amusingly. Wanting to coax more out of you, Jisung goes back to kissing your neck, occasionally leaving a nip or two. You feel a tingle run down your spine when his hands go under your shirt, fingertips dancing across the soft skin. On top of this, he hasn’t removed his knee from your heat and your hips involuntarily grind against him.

“Can I take this off?” Jisung murmurs in your ear, wrapping his fingers around the hem of your shirt. You nod your head, but he perches himself back up to look at you. “I need to hear you say it, (Y/n)."

“Yes, Jisung. You can take it off, please take it off.” You breathe out. He smirks, grazing his lips beside your ear in a kiss. He lifts the fabric over your head, watching intently when you arch your back to help him. Once it’s off, he crumples it and tosses it over the edge of the bed. He lets his kiss-swollen lips travel all over the expanse of newly exposed skin, his nose tracing a soft trail behind them.

You gasp when you feel his kisses become wet when he reaches the part of your breasts peeking out from your bra. Your hands instinctively fly up to claw at the material of the back of his top. He takes your arms and pins them down beside you in response, not wanting you to throw him out of focus. He is practically drunk off of your skin alone. You whimper when you feel his strong grip encircle your wrists.

“Ji, you too.” You beg him. He hums against you, leaving one last peck on your neck before sitting up again. Jisung quickly shimmies out of his sweatshirt, letting it fall beside him. Your eyes, hiding shyly behind your lashes, snake up his tone torso. He exhales sharply when your hand comes up to run over his smooth skin and muscle. You don’t stop until you reach the side of his face, cupping his cheek in your hand. He sighs happily, placing his hand over yours. He puckers his lips around your palm before looking back down at you with the most adoring look.

“You’re so beautiful,” He murmurs, placing a second kiss on the inside of your wrist this time. “Absolutely beautiful.” He leans back over you, kissing all over your flushed cheeks, making you giggle.

“Come here...” He pulls you up to sit on your knees so that you’re face to face with him now. He hurriedly fills the space in between you, landing his lips on yours again. That's when he realizes your hands are shaking.

"Hey..." He pulls away, placing his hands on your hips to steady you. "You still doing okay?" You nod reassuringly.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You go to wrap your arms around his neck. "It's just a lot... in a good way! But still a lot." The truth is, you really couldn’t believe what was happening. The feeling of Jisung’s lips and hands caressing your body is still fresh in your mind, and you knew it would be forever burned into your brain. The closeness you had been sharing with him, that you had only dreamed of until now, was overwhelming.

“I know,” He coos, kissing your cheek. “Am I being gentle enough? I’m not hurting you, right?” His eyes, filled with concern, bore into yours. You reach up to push his hair back out of his face.

“No, Ji. Everything about this is perfect...” You let your pillowy lips brush against his and your chest swells with pride when you hear his breath catch in his throat.

“I’ve wanted this for so long...” He lets his eyes fall shut, hanging on to every last one of your words.

“God, me too, baby.” Your grip tightens around his shoulders to keep yourself from crumbling in his arms at the name. He takes the opportunity to lower his head down to kiss your neck again. You lull yours back to give him more access. That’s when he begins to lead you farther up the bed, laying you down on his pillows.

“Just relax for me,” His breath is delicious against your ear. “I’m gonna take really good care of you, baby.” Your skin begins to flush as you feel him slide his hands behind your back, unhooking the clasp of your bra. You watch as his slim fingers wrap around the straps, sliding them off of your shoulders.

“Mmmh, fuck me.” He groans when he finally sees your breasts perking up. “You’re stunning.” He begins to retrace his previous trail of kisses down your chest, lightly biting at your collarbones this time.

“Ji...” You whine, squirming away as his lips travel lower.

“Nuh-uh, where do you think you’re going?” He tsks at you, pinning you down by your hips. You gasp when you feel his tongue lick up the valley in between your breasts.

“Jisung!” You mewl out. You feel him smirk against your skin.

“Glad to see you’re finally making those pretty lips useful,” You turn your face away as you blush at his words. “I guess it’s my turn now.” Your head plunges further into the pillow when you feel him enclose his lips around one of your breasts, squeezing the other in his hand.

“Shit, Ji.” Your ears tune into the lewd sound of him sucking your nipple into his mouth. He moans around you. The vibrations from his voice turn into chills that spread all throughout your body. He shifts his head to your other breast to pay it the same attention.

“I fucking love your mouth, Jisung.” Your eyes widen at your own declaration. He lets go of you, cocking his eyebrow up.

“Oh yeah?” He teases, but he can feel himself twitching in his pants. “Well, you’re about to love it a lot more...” That’s when he begins kissing down your stomach, wet lips smacking messily against your flesh. Your hips buck up at the feeling of his tongue jutting out on you. You tense up when his nose tickles the skin below your belly button. He waits until he can sense your anticipation, before starting to kiss horizontally above the hem of your jeans.

“Ji, please...” You pant. You could let him kiss everywhere on your body for hours, but the growing need in your core makes you desperate for his lips to be elsewhere...

“I know, sweetheart...” You exhale in relief when his fingers go up to undo the button of your jeans. “I’m gonna give you everything I should have a long time ago.”

You wiggle your legs, helping him get them down. As soon as he’s got them off your feet, he wraps his hand around your ankle, holding your leg up for him. He makes sure his eyes are locked with yours before his lips and teeth begin to rake down the skin. You would protest his stalling if it weren’t for the animalistic look he’s burning into you, the flame in his eyes becoming brighter as the distance between him and your core closes in.

“Hmm...” He hums against you, satisfied by the fact that you’re already soaking through your panties. You sigh as soon as you see him hook his fingers under the waistband. Your heels dig into the sheets when he places kisses over the hood of your clit when the skin becomes exposed. Once he slides the garment off of your ankles, he tosses them over his shoulder before inching his face back over above your heat. He licks his lips before diving in.

“Ah, yes! Ji!” Your legs open more, letting him get as close as he possibly can. He’s already moaning into you at the first taste, hands coming up to grope at your tits.

“Shit, you taste amazing...” His praise is muffled as he covers your slit with his open mouth. He lays his tongue flat against you before moving his head side to side.

“Oh fuck!” One of your hands goes over his on your breast and the other runs down your body to pull at his locks. His eyes roll back as if he’s getting high off of your taste. Your mouth opens in a silent moan as you feel the sharpness of the tip of his tongue running up from your sopping entrance to your clit.

“Jisung~” You call out his name over and over again as he laps at your needy bud.

“That’s it, baby,” He paused to place a kiss on your thigh. “Keep moaning my name like that. Like it belongs to you and only you~”

“Fuck yes...” You yelp when you feel his teeth lightly graze your folds. “Jisung!”

“I’m all yours,” He whispers, kissing your clit. “All yours.” He starts to make circles around your entrance with his fingertips before sliding one into you. Your hands pull harder at his hair, pressing him deeper into you. He takes the opportunity to suck more of your clit into his mouth. Your vision goes white and you’re only able to focus on the feeling of his tongue flicking against you while he curls his finger up against the sweet spot within your walls.

“Mmm, baby let go one moment.” You do as he says, taking your hand out of his hair. He lifts his head up, eyes still trained on your messy cunt as he lets a string of his spit fall from his lips onto you. You moan as you feel it trickle down your folds. He leans back down, lapping his own saliva up along with your wetness. He slides another finger into you, pounding them into you without warning. At the same time, his tongue and lips feel like they’re everywhere at once.

“Fuck! Ji, I’m gonna cum...” You cry out as you begin to feel the pit in your stomach tighten. He hums against you in response, eager to drink you in. As you finally release into his mouth with one last moan of his name, his hand squeezes tighter around your breast. He lets himself completely drown in you, helping you ride the wave of your high.

As you begin to come back down, Jisung stays put in between your legs. You look over at him, curiously, as you continue to catch your breath.

“Ji? What is it?” You ask him. That’s when he suddenly grabs your thighs, pushing them up into your chest. His head drops back down to tongue furiously at your clit again.

“Jisung! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” It takes all of his strength to keep your legs in place. Your knuckles turn white around the sheets, nails threatening to tear into them.

“Ji! I c-can’t...” When you feel another orgasm about to rip through your body, he pulls away and lets go of your legs. Before you can register what he’s doing, he’s sucking at your tits again. His tongue swirls sloppily around your nipples, smearing your juices along with his saliva. You moan out, burying your nails into the skin of his shoulder, spurring him on further.

“I’m sorry, baby...” He moans against your chest. “I just want this to last forever.” He sucks dark marks into your skin as one of his hands travels down to rub fast circles around your clit.

“Ji...Ji...” His name is the only thing on your mind right now as he brings you to ecstasy again. You whine as he holds you tight against him, kissing over the marks he had left.

“Thank you for being so good for me...” He praises, lifting himself back up to give you a sweet kiss. You don’t fail to notice how beautiful he is. Sweat making his messy hair stick to his face, eyes blown out with your arousal staining his lips. He hisses when your hand comes up to palm him through his jeans.

“Ji, I need you now...” You plead.

“Oh, baby, you have me~” He says with a wink, sitting up so you can reach the button of his jeans. Your eyes don’t leave his as you go to undo them. You push them down to his knees so that he can kick them off. You pull him back down to kiss you while letting your hand slip into his underwear. When he lets out a groan, you slide your tongue into his mouth, and he only gets louder as a result.

“Fuck, (Y/n)...” His eyes squeeze shut as you wrap your fingers around him, sliding them up and down. He presses his forehead to yours, lost in your touch. Becoming impatient, he makes swift work of taking his boxers off, finally freeing his hard cock. His eyes travel all along your body as he bites his lip, giving himself a few pumps. He slowly moves his hips over to meet yours, carefully guiding himself into you. Your head falls back and his falls onto your shoulder once he’s all the way in.

“You feel so damn good,” He whispers in your ear, kissing just below it. “And you look so good too, so fucking beautiful... even better than how I imagined you would be like this.” His words make you wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him in deeper. You bite down on the inside of your cheek when he begins to move, his tip already kissing your sweet spot with every thrust. Your head goes dizzy at the sound of his deep breaths in your ear and your fingers go to grasp at his tone back. He grunts at the sting of your nails scratching down the skin, encouraging him to pick up the pace.

After a while, he gets up on his knees so that he can hold your legs open to watch his cock disappear inside you over and over again. The sight of your pretty face lost in pleasure makes him grow even harder against your walls. That’s when he thinks back to what you said earlier.

“(Y/n), I need to say something...” He rasps out. Your eyes shift up to look into his, unable to form words with the way he’s rocking into you. He pauses for a moment to place a kiss on your knee beside him before resuming the rhythm of his hips.

“You’re the most beautiful, most wonderful girl in my life,” He tells you, “The only girl for me...” He leans back on top of you, earning a whine from you when you feel your nipples rub across his glistening chest.

“I’ll fuck you in front of Sori myself to let her know her place if that’s what it takes to get you to see it...” His voice is low in your ear as he finishes his statement.

“Ji!” You groan in embarrassment burying your face in his shoulder. Despite this, his words still make you clench around him even harder. He chuckles, kissing your face as he drives into you faster. The sweet, familiar pressure begins to build back up within you. You can tell he's also getting close too by the way he's throwing his head back, sweat dripping down his Adam's apple.

“(Y/n), I’m gonna cum soon,” He pants, hips rutting into you harder, “Where do you-”

“Inside! Please I want to feel it inside me...” You trap him within your legs so he can’t escape.

“Fuck. Okay, sweet girl...” With that, he brings a hand down to rub at your clit, making sure to send you over the edge before he gets there himself.

“Mmm! Jisung!” You come apart underneath him, the sight of you making him spill into you soon after. Your body shivers when you feel how warm his seed is inside of you.

“Ah! Fuck, baby~” Jisung lets himself fall into your arms, lazily grinding himself into you as he continues to fill you up. Once he's spent, he rests his eyes, listening to your calming heartbeat. You kiss his forehead, soothingly running your hands through his hair. The two of you stay like that for a couple of minutes, catching your breath.

"This was long overdue..." He remarks, making you laugh.

"I'd say." You reply.

“I’ll go run a bath for you.” Jisung whispers, kissing your cheek before pulling out of you. He pushes himself off the bed before disappearing into his connected bathroom. You turn over on your side, pressing your thighs together so that his cum doesn’t drip out of you. You let your eyes shut against the pillow you’re cradling underneath you.

Just before you can drift off, you feel someone tapping at your shoulder. Your eyes flutter back open to reveal a smiling Jisung with his cheeks puffing out.

“Come on, sleepyhead. Let’s get you in the tub.” He helps you to your feet, both of you not failing to notice the slight shake in your leg as he guides you to the bathroom. He carries you in, setting you down in the warm water. You sigh as the tension in your muscles fades away, laying back against the wall of the tub. He lets himself admire your relaxed form before turning to leave. You stop him by grabbing his wrist.

“Come join me, please?” He can’t say no to the big eyes that you’re giving him. He sheds the underwear he had put back on before climbing into the tub with you. He immediately opens his arms up to you, to which you gladly indulge. Your back is pressed firmly to his torso, head resting comfortably on his shoulder.

“Did everything feel good?” He asks you. You hum contently, nodding your head.

“I’m afraid you’ve got me in deeper than I was before,” You joke, looking up at him. “You’re stuck with me now...”

“That’s fine by me,” He chuckles, pressing a kiss into the side of your face. “Because now that I have you, I’m not letting go...”

“Me neither, Ji.” You smile.

Ahhh, hello! Thank you so much for reading! I know this fic was longer than what I normally do, but I really loved the plot I developed for it so that’s why I went a little crazy lmao. I came up with this by mixing a couple ideas I received together so thank you to everyone who submitted ideas for a Jisung fic when I asked! Please don’t forget to reblog, comment, and interact with this post/my blog if you liked this, I would really appreciate a little more than just a like :)

Another thing I should mention is that I am unfortunately going to be closing my requests for one-shots at this time :( I have a good bit of requests right now that I need to write for but I will let you all know as soon as I open them again! If you still want to submit a hard/soft thought that you want me to make a note on or write a little drabble for, feel free to do so because I still want to be active and interact with all of you!

Okay, one last thing this note is as long as the fic I’m sorry.. I just wanted to take the time to thank everyone for reading my stories and supporting my work in the short time I’ve been writing! I didn’t expect to see my content get as much attention and positive feedback as it is and I am so so so thankful to everyone who interacts with what I post! So again, thank you so much, and thank you again for reading this! <3

🏷: @biscuitslino @sydsownworld @lovebella

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myunghology · 5 months

Text

࿐ i wish you roses.

— ✦ gn! reader, fluff, song recco while reading : i wish you roses by kali uchis! [ a/n : this was so fun to write~]

you never knew your little vampire could do origami.

you had originally bought coloured paper for a project you had to do in school, unintentionally leaving it on your desk.

fortunately— ritsu stumbled across your classroom and saw your desk filled with the said papers, checking to see if anyone was around before coming inside the room. he sits on your chair, and starts to wonder. you don't need this much paper, do you? you surely wouldn't mind if he used some.

ritsu's long and delicate fingers picked out some of the coloured paper, specifically red and green. luckily for him, you left your bag there too. he takes out the scissors from the front pocket, and starts cutting the paper.

smiling softly to himself, he's thinking about all the things you've done with him or for him, feeling an unfamiliar flutter within his stomach. i mean sure, he's felt this way with mao before, but it's different. a soft blush covers his cheeks, whilst he feels all giddy.

“maa-kun, can you buy me plain clips and glue pls? ^3^” ritsu messages mao, a few minutes later he eventually replies with a “sure.”, he smiles, thinking about your reaction when you see what he's made you.

mao arrives, not taking long. “what do you need these for?” he asks ritsu, placing it down on the desk ritsu was using. “for [name].” he mutters quietly, and mao was quick to decide that he should probably leave him alone.

“good luck then.” he whispers to ritsu, whilst he nods, sending him a soft smile. after mao leaves, he eventually glues all the paper roses one by one so it'll stay still. in the process, he takes a beige colored paper and makes it into a little bouquet.

he glues them all together, making a little rose bouquet. and then for a little touch, he takes a mini cologne bottle out of his pocket, lightly spraying the said rose bouquet so it'll smell like him.

ritsu looks at the plain clips, already knowing what to do with them. he takes more red paper, cuts it into smaller pieces, and makes mini roses.

once he's done, he carefully takes three clips out of the small plastic they came in, gluing one mini rose on each clip, thankfully, he glue was pretty strong. so it wouldn't remove that easily. maybe using a hot glue gun would be better— but he didn't have that right now.

he cleans up his mess on your table and throws the remaining paper he didn't use in the trash, right before leaving the tiny bouquet on your desk but bringing the three clips with him, he tries to find you.

ritsu eventually finds you in the room where they record their songs, just chilling. he smiles softly. “i got you something.” he says, making you jump from the sudden noise, but curious, you ask what it is.

he pulls out the three clips, “you don't have to use all three,” he mentions, putting two in your pocket and putting one clip in your hair.

“you look pretty.” as ritsu says that, your heart flutters whilst a pink blush spreads across your face. but you immediately excuse that feeling— clearing your throat. “im always pretty.”

the male scoffs, “i guess you're right.”

and.. you were definitely flustered when you got back into your classroom with the small bouquet of roses on your desk that smelled exactly like him.

#ritsu sakuma #ritsu sakuma x reader #enstars ritsu #ensemble stars x reader #ensemble stars #ensemble stars headcanons #enstars #enstars x reader #jian’s works!

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moochalove · 4 months

Text

Last Nights Mistakes and New Beginnings (Part 4-5)(Final)

(yandere!kazuha x pregnant!reader x scaramouche)

Did you know they call me the yappinator? Anyways i’ve been meaning to finish it but i’ve been busy w school but now i have the time so i will be yapping away more (posting a little more)🗣️ Get cozy bcs this is long asf!

Reader is bi-icon! (+ trauma) If imma be fr, the beginning is a little off bcs i wrote it weeks ago (im lazy and i will not fix it🥶) ANYWAYS ILL STOP YAPPING! TY FOR READING 🤭 (if u do😡)

word count: Pretty fucking long ❤️

proofread: HELL NO! 😋 fill in the gaps/mistakes for me pls🫶

TW: Stockholm syndrome

Arriving at the mall you think about making a break for it but these heels prevent you from doing so. With enough for the heel would surely snap though… Noted. Reaching for the door handle you’re stopped and pulled into a kiss. It’s a little uncomfortable but you play it off with a smile, “Don’t worry Kazu, I’m not gonna run off~” “I know darling, but this is the start of our new life so allow me to take the lead. Don’t worry your pretty mind about anything.” With that, he places one last peck onto your face. Once again, he is opening the door for you and you guiding you to the some shops. Immediately you notice his firm grip on your waist, and it’s uncomfortable. He said you would be buying clothes but you now realize he meant he was picking clothes FOR you. You’re in the dressing room and he has you trying on all these cute coquette clothing. It feels a little uncomfortable but you try to get used to the feeling of the outfits. Some are loose, and some are tighter. In your mind, you already knew which ones you liked based on the texture, design, etc..

Whenever you came out to show off an outfit you felt like a real couple. Showing off your outfit and making comments, no matter what you wore he seemed to agree it looked good on you, even if you didn’t think so. Something feels wrong about this but you can’t help but smile when he looks at you so adoringly.

You guys go to about three more shops, all of them having a different theme. By the time you were done, it was mid-afternoon. Both of your feet were killing you… not to mention you were hungry… You both agree to stop and get something to eat.

You arrive at a very familiar restaurant… Weren’t you just here? When was that though? If it was important surely you’d remember!

•

Scaramouche was frantic, to say the least. You weren’t answering his messages… Has something happened? He needs to get to you asap, but how? What if you’ve been removed from your home? If it came to it he could ask his mother to track you down, since she had that kind of power.

Knocking on the door he’s anxious, and hoping he would be met with a bright smile and worried hushing telling him that you were okay. After about a minute he knocks on your room window… No reply. Should he wait around? No, that’ll take too long. After some contemplation, he decides to reach out to his mom.

They have a long talk before she eventually caves. It feels like it’s been forever since she’s seen her child and when he comes back he’s on an adventure trying to get his girlfriend back. She didn’t think situations like that existed but he’s shown her the possibilities are endless. The way he talked about you so dearly gave her the impression you were a thing. Since she’s such a good and caring mother, it’s the least she can do for her future daughter!

Maybe he should’ve emphasized that you were just friends even though he wished for more

From what some super normal and not shady people told him, you were last seen at that restaurant you both had visited yesterday. Why were you there? That didn’t matter right now! Furrowing his eyebrows he sat there and thought long and hard. How was he going to get to you? Kazuha would most likely be glued to your side so directly approaching was out of the question. Could he signal you to him from afar? No, that probably won’t work… Pounding his forehead slightly he couldn’t form a good plan.

“You seem troubled, Doll.” A sly finger guided itself through his short purple locks.

“What do you want, Miko? I’m busy and-“

“You know it’s nice to run away then come running back when you need help. Your mother was on edge for weeks. Spending whatever free time she had looking for her poor child. Always looking for you despite her own needs.”

“Did you come to ask me what’s wrong only to turn around and try to guilt trip me? You don’t change, do you?”

Without saying anything she placed a bag next to him and then made her way to the door. Peeking through the bad he looked back to her fleeting figure before shouting out, “Wait! What is this for? You really expect me to forgive you with this bag full of clothes?! Plus, this has girl stuff in it anyways-“ “Silly Kuni! This is to help you get your girl back!” “Excuse me?!” Miko sighed while shrugging, “And you say your moms are no help! C'mon, you have to think outside the box, silly!” Taking the bag back she pulled out the cutest dress you’ve ever seen along with tights and heels. “It’d be stupid to approach her directly. You have no idea what kind of mental state she’s in, she may not trust any other man or claim she’s fine with her captor.” Digging deeper into the bag she pulled out a long wig that happened to be the same shade as his own hair, “So you have to coax her out as someone willing to understand and help her out of the situation!” Before he knew it he was all dolled up, shifting uncomfortably in the dress and trying to adjust his posture and his footing, constantly brushing his much longer locks back while puckering and rolling his lips that had a gloss applied to them. Would this really work?

“Miko, I don’t think this is gonna work… I don’t make a very convincing girl….” he awkwardly fussed with his bangs before glancing over at her. Miko held her phone up and with a click and a flash the very image of… whatever this was… saved onto her phone and probably being backed up to her cloud. “Oh, you look just like your sister!” Placing her phone back in her bag she shooed him out of the car before, then rolled down the window offering a few words, courtesy of her never-ending-kindness! “Just be kind to her, her heart will surely realize who you are... Or don’t! Maybe she’ll see through all of this!” Scaramouche could only grit his teeth as she motioned her hand at him. “I’ll be waiting here so once she comes to her senses I won’t be far. Plus! Wouldn’t want you to try and be all hero-like only to trip and fall in those cuttteee heels of yours!”

•

Spoonful after spoonful you swallowed whatever food had been shoved into your face. Were you even hungry? Not that it matters. At this point, you’ve come to treat this as if it were a real date! Yet your heart doesn’t skip a beat when he cups your face. A couple of people do glance over at you both awkwardly but that smile of yours tells them you’re just a young couple in love. It goes on like this for a few more minutes before beautiful swaying locks catch your eye, it’s true you’ve been ignoring the faces of those who’ve been passing by, but this face is stunning. Your heart skips a beat when your eyes meet each other. Now something about all this feels familiar but you can’t quite pin it down just yet. Kazuha notices how your attention is drawn away from him and he immediately pulls your chin towards him, “Is something the matter my love? You seem distracted.” He bluntly states as his eyebrows furrow slightly in frustration. “A-ah, no, I just…” Perhaps you were scared or maybe still stunned by that girls beauty but you can’t seem to form a coherent thought. He shifts around in his seat a little, ever so slightly moving his chair to block your view of the girl. With a short ‘ahem’ you brush it off as just seeing someone you thought you recognized.

If you look past his intense gaze you can still kinda see her fussing with her long hair. A waiter shows her to her table that so happens to be next to yours. You bite your tongue to hide a giggle when you see her awkwardly try to walk in heels, maybe she’s not used to them? Once she sits down it’s obvious she’s not used to wearing such feminine clothes, the way she keeps lifting her feet off the ground and sliding them farther out, or how she pulls the hem of her dress down even though it’s past her knees. The way she covered her mouth and spoke in a quiet meek voice told you maybe she was shy. Kazuha glanced at you both, almost trying to understand the connection you guys had but signed in defeat, “I’m gonna use the restroom then pay for our food. Don’t go anywhere.” And with that, he was gone but surely it wouldn’t take him long to be back.

Scaramouche had to be quick about this. The least he could do is get you outside.

Trying to keep his ladylike demeanor he tried starting the conversation with something normal. Of course, this meant he would have to speak a little louder in order for you to hear in the louder environment. He would be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t “practiced” his female voice.

“Isn’t the food here the best?”

Taken aback by how cute she sounded you cover your mouth slightly. “She even has a cute voice!”, you thought to yourself. Once again stunned you take a moment to respond.

“Y-yeah!” your response is a little fast-paced but she just smiles in response. “Haha, you seem a little nervous, what, too stunned by my looks?” Even though he was supposed to be portraying a meek, innocent girl, he couldn’t help but still be cocky. It’s as if you were on autopilot with the way your response was the same yeah…

Part of you felt like that’s something he would say. Who was he again?

“It’s a little stuffy in here, don’t you agree? How about we get some fresh air?” The girl suggested so innocently that you’d completely “forgotten” what Kazuha told you NOT to do. As if you’d been under a spell you followed a girl you didn’t even know the name of out of the restaurant. Her name! You need her name! This can’t be the last time you see each other you need her contact info! You reach to where you would normally keep your phone only for your attention to be stolen away by her.

She handed you her phone that had a picture of a very certain cat. Your heart fastens as you start to recall some things, you couldn’t submit to someone who only half-loved you. No, you had to get home to your first baby. Tears threaten to spill as everything comes back faster than you can comprehend.

He didn’t love you, no, he never did. If he did he would’ve stayed the first night. He was just looking for something to sedate his own woes. You come to the realization that your delusions you made up to protect yourself were false. You haven’t been in love for years like your mind had told you, you don’t know what he really feels, you just filled in the blanks with lies your mind fed you. In reality, you’ve probably only really known each other for a couple of days, during those 4 months you spent pregnant and alone your brain spun a story as if you were real lovers. Hating yourself could come later but for now, you need to get a grip and get out of here. Suddenly you’re caught up to speed and all it feels like you’re gonna vomit, your clothes feel tighter and you can feel your own skin, every pore feels open and you hate every second of it. What feels like hours is only a matter of seconds.

A hand is gently wipes your tears away,

“It’s time to go, Y/n.”

“I cant.. I’m sacred. I-“

“Don’t be. I'm here now, and I’m not letting you go.” He looked so serious, although a little funny since he was still in his getup.

Reaching for your wrist he gently and slowly led you farther away from the establishment and closer to your getaway car.

Both of your steps got faster and faster. You didn’t want to look back, no, you shouldn’t.

A voice you’ve come to hate shouts out to you. Ears pound loudly and your heart skips several beats when you hear fastened footsteps approaching. A wave of pain crashes onto you when your lower back aches in pain. You stop even though you don’t want to and clutch your stomach in retaliation.

You have to move right now otherwise he’ll catch up. Scaramouche turns back around for you and effortlessly picks you up and carries you to the car. When he turned to place you in the car he’s sure Kazuha has seen his face. Crap… Not like it mattered right now. He rushes to the other side of the car but is pulled back by a hand that is placed on his back, it’s cold and uncomfortable. Almost as if it triggered something in him he shouts and pushes him back into the ground.

Once Scaramouche is in the car Miko doesn’t hesitate to slam on the gas pedal and get you both somewhere safe.

Final Part:

When you wake up you’re in a very comfy bed. Moving your legs a little you wince uncontrollably. Memories come flooding back and your eyes dart to where Scaramouche is sitting. A smile makes itself known on your face and you reach out to him. He melts into your touch but avoids looking at you. You know you messed up big time by not running away from Kazuha like you should have… But you were in a deranged state! Surely he won’t blame you completely. Breaking the silence you ask him what’s wrong.

“I know we kinda just met but I hope you know I love you…” he trailed off, still avoiding eye contact. “I always have… It’s a shame you don’t remember me. If you did then I guess you could technically say we didn't just meet.”

Huh? You two knew each other? Maybe he’s got the wrong person. Innocently you ask, “Have we met somewhere before? I’m sorry but I don’t seem to ever recall-“ “Just take a good look at me and try to recall. We used to be playmates when we were little. Your parents were busy like mine so they would drop us off at that one daycare.” Your eyes squint as you take a good look at him, “And we went to school together for a little while- I tried stealing your pen-“ Eyes widening you can’t help but burst out laughing.

Now you remember him!

“It’s you! I- How could I forget? Oh my gosh, it seems work has made me forget my younger days!” Covering your mouth to hide a smile you can’t help but laugh a little louder. His face seems upset but eventually melts into a smiling one along with you. For a couple of moments you both laugh and exchange playful banter. Everything in the world is right at that moment.

But once again, your mistakes will catch up with you.

After the laughing dies down he squeezes your hand and places a handle on your stomach. This causes you to shift uncomfortably but you try to play it off as a cramp.

“When the Doctor came to relay your status he told me one bit of information that… you probably didn’t want me to know.”

Oh shit. Oh shit- Your heart fastens and you try to muster out a response but it hitches in your throat. “I-I canexplain p-please let me-“You fumble your words and tears pool up in your eyes.

With an affirmative squeeze to your hand he smiles softly, “It’s okay.”

“But it’s not- I messed up and now-“ You covered face with your hand, attempting to hide yourself away from him.

“And now- we can work this out, together. I promise I will do my best to be a good parent. If you’d just give me a chance- A chance to take care of you and your child. I would do anything to be with you once and for all. Please, Y/n, don’t leave me again.” His hand came up to yours pressed against your face, and slowly removed it from you.

A part of you feels raw, and exposed, yet, this time it’s different. Part of your brain tells you to run from his affection but the other part feels so defeated that you just want to cry into his chest and beg him to stay with you. Lucky for you he was willing to stay with you. Even if you were going to have your kidnapper's baby. Leaning into him you cried out all your sorrows that had been bottled up for the past couple of months. All he could do was rub your back and listen to you cry your heart out.

It felt good to finally tell someone how you truly felt. How much has been troubling you? Although you’re sure if you were to tell this to a professional you’d been locked up….

After you’re done crying you wipe your tears and take a deep breath. Your chest and shoulders feel lighter. The whiplash of everything could hit you later, you couldn’t care less right now. All you wanted to do was eat, stretch, and take a nap.

Scaramouche looked at you dead in the eye and you feared the worst. Was he joking? Did he actually hate you and never want to see you again? Did-

“Goddamit- I dropped my wig…”

You stare at each other for a second before you burst out laughing. “That’s a shame! You didn’t look half bad in it~” you joked. “Oh please- You were head over heels for me and you know it!” “Ah, you got me there! Who knew you’d make such a fine girl! If only you could say the same about you know-Ow!” he punched your shoulder gently, but considering your current state it hurt more than he intended. “I’m sorry, Y/n- I-“ He checked the area to see if it was bruised or anything but was immediately met with a flick to the forehead. “Ow-!” “Haha, got you!” “You little-“

Both of your bickering would soon die down as soon as his parents would enter the room. It was obvious how you both turned stiff as boards. Acting as if you weren’t pulling each other’s hair like you once had.

Ei placed some flowers on the bed stand and Miko would sit down on the bed with some sweets in hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Y/n.” Ei bowed politely, “I’m not sure if my son had mentioned us to you. If not it’s alright- But we are his parents.” Miko started feeding some cake with a fork as she nodded along. “I’m very happy to see you make my son happy. It used to worry me that my son would die alone-“she feigned a tear falling from her eye. “MOM.” Blush spread across Scaramouche’s face as he crossed his arms. “Ah, excuse me, that’s beside the point! What I mean to say is that you shouldn’t worry about the wedding founding- Your new moms will buy you everything you will need-“ “THATS NOT ANY BETTER!” He exclaimed even redder. She smiled so innocently all while still looking a little confused. Miko finally chimed in, “What she means to say is that she supports you both no matter what. Even if you don’t think she agrees with you,” she turned her head towards him, “she believes you both will make the right choice. We hope you both can treat this as a new beginning. As I like to say, carpe diem!” “You never say that.” Ei tilted her head with a soft smile. “Well, I do now!”

All four of you burst out laughing. You guys talk a little more before they leave for their business dinner. Once again you and Scara are alone.

“Are you really sure you’re okay with marrying a pregnant woman?” “Of course I’m fine with it, since it being you and all.” Rubbing the back of his head he laid his head down on the bed, “Are YOU sure you wanna get married right away? Just because my mom mistook us for dating already doesn’t mean we should skip that part… Plus, what if you don’t like who I am…” You pet his soft purple hair with a smile, “Well, as long as you promise not to be a complete asshole, then I suppose we’ll be just fine!” “You think I’m an asshole?” “Haha, anyways…. What kind of wedding cake should we have? I was thinking of a [favorite flavor] cake! Ooohh and we can look at the different types of venues! Ah, I guess after that we need to plan a baby shower!”

He’d completely tuned you out and just stared at you, lovingly. Your skin glowed perfectly from the artificial light, and that smile of yours was perfect. You no longer looked tired and stressed; instead, you looked happy and not so tired. He couldn’t blame his ex-friend for falling for you. Although he feels a little jealous that he’s seen parts of you that now belong to his eyes only now.

Fingers tap up and down on the bed as if he’s contemplating something. You take notice and tap his shoulder, you ask if he’s listening. Suddenly he gets up- His soft lips are placed against your slightly chapped ones. It’s warm. Your eyes widen in surprise as you slowly melt into the kiss.

Once he pulls away you’re both gasping for air. Out of embarrassment, he hides his face in your neck. He’s embarrassed- you are too. “A-a little warning would’ve been nice. I was talking yknow?” “Shut up before I kiss you again..” You knew he was too embarrassed to do it again so you teased, “Yeah, I think you’d like that-“ Instead of another passionate kiss he instead peppered kisses all over your face. “I hate you.” “I love you, Scara.”

•

The wedding went amazing since his parents had done most of the planning (of course you both directed them) And your baby shower went just as well! Initially, you were both worried a certain someone would catch wind of it- and you’re sure he did. Thankfully the place was heavily guarded (, courtesy of Miko) and was also in a secluded area, along with there being a very strict guest list. You both already knew the gender so the part just consisted of fun baby shower games and many gifts from your friends and families.

You had been getting intensive therapy for the rest of your pregnancy. Those couple of months left you with deeper wounds than you had thought. Of course, you still have trouble with going out on your own and you’ve completely dropped going out (since you’re a mother now ofc) When you do have to go out alone you wear your hair differently each time along with a mask and sunglasses. Whenever someone gets a little too close they happen to get stopped by someone. Your bad dreams usually consist of you trying to run away but your legs move slowly or trying to scream but nothing comes out, and other things you’d rather not discuss...

Your delivery went well and luckily you gave birth to a healthy baby boy. Ei and Miko informed you that you had a week to name him. On the fifth day, you and Scara decided on [name], since you both liked the name and agreed on it. When both of the families came to see him you got the chance to meet Scara’s aunt and sister (who both happened to be named Makoto, although Scara called his sister Raiden since she was “scary”) The boy was blessed with your hair color (he has a red streak through it) but had his fathers eyes. At first, it scared you but with some affirming words from both sides of the family and your lover, you’ve grown to love them.

Some of your friends and family didn’t approve that Scara wasn’t the father, some even berating you and calling you names. The name-calling mostly came from Scara’s side of the family. Area

On your son's first birthday, he spoke his first words. “Mama!” You nearly cried tears of joy when he said that. Scaramouche frowned and pinched the boy's cheeks gently with a huff. Much to his surprise the boy spoke again, “Daddy!” Now both of you were crying tears of joy. You swaddled your boy in the softest blankets before you both cuddled him off to sleep. Both not believing you had been blessed with such a joy.

Once your son has gotten a little older he learned how to say the cat’s name, always gesturing his hands and babbling, “Meowmeow!” The now healthier cat would come to the boy and rub its head against your son accompanied by a purr.

Once he turned two years old you noticed how he started taking after his father, often mimicking him by making an angry face and huffing. All you could do was smile and kiss him while his father pouted behind you both. One time you had joked around with your young son by asking him, “What face does daddy make when he’s angry” and your son crossed his arms with a scowl on his face. You burst out laughing while your husband messed with his hair pretending to be upset.

You went back to work while Scara was a stay-at-home husband. On stressful days you would come home, sore and tired, but the moment your eyes laid on Scara’a resting figure along with your sons. Well, your heart simply melted into mush as you took about 30 pictures of them from all angles. You were convinced that all of the time you spent alone and suffering was worth it for this moment.

It felt like that person was a bad dream- but now, you’re wide awake and ready to face the future with your loving husband, and adorable son.

Gawdamn I don’t stop yapping🙏 If you read all of this ty pookie!! there will be a $10 mil block of gold under your pillow when you wake up 😍😋 I will be writing some hcs (maybe) and a scenario where u encounter kazuha w your kid soon!!! (i promise) Anyways i’m knocking tf out… BAI><!!

♡ taglist: @swivy123

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin x y/n #genshin fluff #fem!reader #genshin angst #kazuha x reader #pregnant!reader #scaramouche x fem!reader #angst to fluff #stockhom syndrome

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