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pennyellee · 3 months

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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈 | 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐁 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐔 pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s word count: 14K beta read by @chaoticpuff17 (ily) masterlist

summary: You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?

warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, emotional distress, teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, jk is selfish af, jk is delulu, oral (fem receiving), forced oral (m receiving) spanking, squirting, cum swallowing, creampie, yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, choking, rough sex, pussy pounding, bruises, manipulation, gaslighting, strong language, oppressiveness

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.

author's note: so as I said in the preview, this did not go as planned but I really enjoyed writing this to the point that I might do a part 2, perhaps 3, but we'll see about that. JK is delulu af here and the reader does not think through everything. For those who did not read preview and came upon this just now - originally what i wanted to build around was how Rachel Green from Friends was offered a job at Louis Vuitton but it was in Paris and Ross did not want her to go - that was supposed to be the whole plot (with slight changes ofc), well and somehow it went a bit darker than i intended so instead of rom-com, i'd rather listed it as dark romance and yandere. Hope you'll enjoy it! Love, always.

1996

“He said what now?!” The sentence burst out of you with a high-pitched tone, nearly causing your latte to spill all over your pristine white blouse and grey blazer. Not exactly the ideal way to kick off a new month, you mused as your friend dropped the bombshell about a certain someone.

“That you’re the future mother of his children,” said your friend, an amused smirk playing on her face. “I seriously don’t know how you can still resist him, girl.” But resist him, you did.

Jeon Jungkook was undoubtedly one of the most sought-after and sexiest heartthrobs of the decade, possessed the best face card in the industry and carried the biggest ego in all of New York City. You could vividly recall the day he strolled inside of your office with the head of your department. A cocky, playful grin plastered on his face the moment his eyes landed on you.

Right from the very beginning, you made it crystal clear to Jungkook that your relationship would be strictly professional during your collaboration on the Calvin Klein project. He was given his own collection of men’s wear, and the job to work with him fell upon you.

You knew that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you to elevate your standing within the fashion circle. Jeon Jungkook’s fame was immense, and your name would be signed on the collection too. It’s not like you are head over heels that your name would be associated specifically with Jeon Jungkook, but you understood right away that this could put you on the radar. Your boss had even hinted at the possibility of a higher position within the department.

He constantly teased you, flirted shamelessly, and crossed boundaries by touching you as if you were his girlfriend. It was wildly inappropriate, especially given that the two of you had never even gone out for a work dinner or lunch alone. There were always other people from the team, and yet he always managed to find a way to sit right next to you. But it seems Jungkook was still living in an illusion where you were his girlfriend.

Your gaze shifted to the majestic Twin Towers, standing proudly in the distance, as you let out an annoyed puff of air.

“He’s ridiculous,” you finally declared.

“Or cute,” countered your friend, opposing your viewpoint. She found this pseudo-relationship with Jungkook amusing, but a small part of her secretly wished you’d just give in and go out with him. It was quite some time since you were in a relationship, and Jeon Jungkook would definitely be a nice catch. You were not interested. Or you tried to persuade others that you aren’t.

“No, ridiculous,” you retorted again, lips pursed, and brows furrowed.

“Oh, come on, give him a chance finally!!” she exclaimed.

“Absolutely not! He’s egoistic, manipulative, a cocky little bastard with damn good hair,” you said, your tone rising as you reached your final proclamation, which had simply slipped out of your mind that way.

“See? One good thing — good hair. Marry him,” she laughed it off.

“Now you’re being ridiculous, and I’m going to be late for work.” You said while dusting your black skirt, grabbing your purse, and leaving a few bucks for the coffee. The song on the radio stopped your departure for a moment, listening to the familiar voice coming from it, you rolled your eyes.

“That’s a clear sign, Y/N. Give it a chance!” she called after you, and you couldn’t help but throw a side eye her way, though a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips nonetheless.

As the day passed, you found yourself increasingly entangled in the whirlwind of meetings, fittings, and photoshoots with an ever-present Jungkook. The photoshoots, in particular, became a source of both frustration and amusement. However today, a bigger problem surfaced.

“Why’s he half-naked, Lucy?!” You hissed at your assistant. Normally, you are very kind and respectful to everyone, but Jungkook had managed to irk you the moment you stepped into your office, finding him already seated in your chair with that smirk you despised. Bringing a coffee for you, which you never drink, or donuts that you always share with the department - not eating one yourself.

Jungkook, adorned in the latest Calvin Klein designs you two had meticulously crafted together, claimed a personal touch of his persona— at least, that’s how he described it. He looked effortlessly handsome, the camera adoring him, but what grated on your nerves was that his attention was solely focused on teasing you.

“We also have shirts, why is he not wearing one?!” You continued, expressing your disagreement to what was before you. What angered you even more was that you could not stop staring at his abs.

“We shot with shirts earlier. They said the underwear and jeans will appear more artistic if his V line and abs—”

“Alright! Alright!” You stopped her in mid-sentence. You didn’t want to look that way nor you didn’t want to admit that showcasing his V-line would enhance the aesthetics of the jeans. Therefore, you took a deep breath and walked towards the refreshments, you were in need of a second cup of coffee.

You heard the photographer call for a break, but you were focused on calming yourself with a steaming cup of coffee. Despite your irritation, you couldn’t deny that he looked breath-taking in the outfits you had designed, and it infuriated you.

Suddenly, two arms were laid flat on the table’s surface, caging you in between. You could imagine his devilish grin. He did this way too often, whether it was his fingers lightly tracing your arm or tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, looking intently into your eyes until you were fighting yourself to not get lost in his Bambi eyes.

“We’re almost done for today,” he whispered seductively into your right ear, his lips almost touching it. Your breath stammered.

“And yet you did not learn a single thing about professionalism or work ethic.” You bit sarcastically, turning slowly to face him.

Jungkook’s grin only widened at your remark, and you couldn’t decide whether you were infuriated or slightly flustered by his audacity. He leaned in even closer, his breath grazing your ear as he spoke in a low, husky tone.

“Tutor me then, in bedroom — preferably” he suggested, his lips still dangerously close to the shell of your ear.

“I don’t think so. You’re beyond help,” you shot back, trying to assert control over the situation. His proximity was distracting, and you couldn’t afford to let him undermine the fact that you were in charge.

Jungkook continued to hover over you, the photographer calling for everyone to regroup for the next set of shots. You seized the opportunity to escape his magnetic pull, smoothly slipping out from between the table and his arms, deciding to escape to your humble office, seeking solace in the calmness it provided.

It wasn’t long before the shoot officially ended, and you knew damn well, that the man wouldn’t leave you alone. The door creaked open, and you turned to find Jungkook leaning against the frame, that infernal smirk still etched onto his face.

“We did a good job, why don’t we celebrate it over at my place, baby?” he complimented, but there was an undertone of something else in his voice. You overlooked his physique and leaned back in your chair, narrowing your eyes, making a clicking sound with your tongue.

“Jungkook, again, this was a professional collaboration. Nothing more,” you asserted, emphasising each word. If you did not say this sentence at least a hundred times you don’t know. He never takes it seriously; it appears as he is still trying to hammer his way into your guarded heart.

He pushed himself off the doorframe and sauntered closer. “We’ll see about that,” he said, leaving you with a cryptic grin as he exited your office. The only thing you could do is sigh.

Before you went to continue working, you heard how Jungkook’s voice echoed from the hallway.

“I bet I can change your mind, sweetheart!”

You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath.

“Not a chance.”

The denim collection with Jungkook was taking shape, and the buzz surrounding the collaboration grew with each passing day. A success, your boss was much more than pleased.

This success, however, meant even more for you. You were on cloud nine, basking in the glory of your hard work and the prospect of a ground-breaking partnership. Totally, forgetting to play unreachable when it came to the clinging boy who starred in this iconic collaboration. And that must have given him a false hope, perhaps a narrative in which you were his girl.

You were sitting in your office when you hung up the telephone after speaking with the vice president of Guess that contacted you earlier last week, offering you a part in a project for their brand, in Los Angeles. A dream come true for you. Leaving this place, after years of building your career from scratch, felt overwhelming. You loved working under Klein, yet it was time for you to take it higher. Your boss did not offer you a new position, and therefore, you did not hesitate to take the job opportunity and elevate yourself in fashion ranks.

It was an offer too tempting to resist, and you found yourself diving headfirst into the project, not even looking at the door when someone stepped in without knocking.

“You may leave the reception reports on the table, Lucy,” you said once feeling a presence in your office, not raising your eyesight from your computer, writing the prompts for the project Guess wants you to lead. Your twelve days’ notice already printed out, ready to be signed by your boss. You planned to stop by his office after you would finish writing the draft and sending it to the Guess team together with the copy of your portfolio that you needed to make before you leave.

When there were no reports left on your table after a good long minute, you looked up.

“You can’t just leave.” he said, standing tall in the frame of the door, stepping inside once you finally gave him your attention. You could sense a hint of desperation and anger in his voice.

You raised your brows at him. How does he know? The mere thought of you leaving for LA, leaving him behind, was enough to make him confess the depth of his feelings.

You leaned to the leather armchair and listened to him closely.

“What are you talking about Jungkook?” His eyes betrayed a mix of anxiety and vulnerability as he blurted out his fears.

“What about us? What about everything we’ve built together?” He stepped closer to your desk, looking directly to your eyes. You were taken aback by the raw emotion in his words. The air in the room thickened.

The once-confident man now stood vulnerable before you, stripped of the bravado that had defined him. And you were utterly confused and surprised how delusional this man is.

“What are you even saying, Jungkook?” you questioned, your tone a mix of confusion and frustration.

“You can’t leave me!” He raised his voice an octave higher.

“Calm your tits. I’m a grown-up woman. I can do what I want.” You sassed back at him, tired of this made up situation-ship in his head. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.

“We’ve built something special, and I can’t watch it crumble because of some job offer!” He continued his rampage. You took a moment to breathe his words in, closing your eyes and counting to ten to calm yourself.

“Jungkook, I appreciate your honesty, but I can’t give you what you’re asking for.” This caught him by surprise. Instead of screaming at him, you chose to play the I’ll stay calm and professional card.

His eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of confusion and hurt clouding his features. “What do you mean?”

Choosing your words carefully, you said: “I genuinely value this project we worked on together, but it’s time for us to part our ways.” To fool him was your goal.

Jungkook’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your words settling upon him. “Who are you lying to, Y/N?” His words shocked you.

“I’m not lying Jungkook, I’m telling you the truth to your face, as you were too stubborn to hear it before.” You stood up from your chair, moving to lean on the front of your desk, to show him he cannot get to you.

The room fell into a heavy silence as Jungkook looked deep into your eyes, searching for the truth in your words.

“So, it’s all about the career for you? You’re willing to sacrifice everything else, including us?” Your jaw clenched, but you maintained your composed façade and with flaring nostrils and clenched teeth, you spoke.

“There is no us, Jungkook. Get it into your head already!” So much for being calm. The room crackled with tension as the argument reached an impasse. Jungkook shook his head, a mixture of disbelief and frustration.

“I can’t believe you’re throwing away what we have because of some job.” Your eyes widened even more and the fact he would not listen boiled your blood.

“Do I need to spell it out for you? I’m not your girlfriend! I was never your girlfriend, and I will never be your girlfriend!”

But Jungkook wasn’t ready to accept defeat. His frustration reached a boiling point too, and without warning, he grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you into an intense, angry kiss. It was a clash of emotions, a tumultuous blend of passion and anger that fuelled the fiery exchange.

Your initial instinct was to resist, to push him away, but the intensity of the kiss ignited a different kind of fire within you. His lips moved fiercely against yours, gripping your ass in his hands, making you moan to his lips. Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers threading through the dishevelled locks as the kiss deepened, your frustration causing to tug them. He growled from pleasure at the sensation.

It was a collision of lips and tongues, a heated exchange that spoke volumes without a single word. Once his hands disappeared under your skirt and the heat intensified, a sudden surge of clarity washed over you, breaking the intoxicating spell.

With a forceful push, you broke away from the kiss, creating a space between you and Jungkook. You locked eyes with him, your chest heaving as you struggled to regain control of the situation.

“I need you to leave,” you stated, your voice cutting through the lingering tension, you leaned against the desk, your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment.

Jungkook, still caught in the haze of desire, tried to close the distance again, but you held up a hand, halting his advance.

“Leave!” You growled, turning your back to him. You didn’t want him to see your face anymore, because soon enough, tears would break from your eyes. You’re overwhelmed.

A loud bang of the door signalled that he finally understood and left. Breaking down with tears streaming down your cheeks you gasped for air. Tears blurred your vision as you struggled to regain composure.

You’ve counted to ten again, wiping your tears. You felt taken advantage of. He went too far this time. But this was only the beginning of his tremulous and wicked plan he had for you.

You packed your purse, ready to leave your office, you just needed to grab your work portfolio that you needed to send over to Guess. But the space it always inhabited, on the conference table, was empty. And you had one lucky guess who the thief was. “Fucking bastard.”

In the days that followed, the chaos in your personal and professional life escalated. The stolen portfolio, a representation of your work, became a haunting absence. As if the life source of your hard work was cut down.

Determined to salvage what remained of your career, you began the arduous task of recreating it. But time was not on your side, and as you delved into the meticulous process, news of your termination from Calvin Klein reached you like a punch to the gut.

The phone call was impersonal, a cold voice delivering the news of your dismissal as if reading from a script. Some Jack from the HR department spoke to you, someone you have never ever seen in the building whatsoever. Your boss did not even pick up the call when you wanted to ask what made them push the decision to let you go. You certainly did not deserve this after years of working for the brand. The reasons were vague and you knew this had to source from someone powerful. In simple terms, someone snitched that you’re planning to leave.

As the reality of unemployment settled in, you clung to the remnants of optimism that lingered, but even that proved elusive.

You were hundred percent sure that he is trying to sabotage your whole life when the call from Guess, a reason you did not fight for your position at Klein’s delivered another blow.

Their decision not to collaborate with you crushed the remnants of optimism that clung to your spirit. The dream that had seemed within reach now slipped through your fingers, leaving you in a free fall of uncertainty.

They hadn’t even granted you the courtesy of waiting for your portfolio, even though it wouldn’t be what they expected. Whatever oral agreement had been in place disintegrated. So here you are — jobless.

All this left you reeling with disbelief. The career you had meticulously built, the dreams that had taken years to nurture, all unravelling at the seams. The pain was visceral, a mix of frustration, anger, and a profound sense of betrayal.

You were certain that Jeon Jungkook himself was pulling the strings behind the scenes. And you hated him for it, needed to confront him and say that shit with your chest right to his face— he can go fuck himself. Set the record straight once you’re there.

Whatever he was thinking by ruining your career will force you to do, he better fix it before you’ll sing to the media about his bunny smile and kind heart being all fake. The line had been crossed, and he would face the consequences of pushing you to the brink. Or so you thought it would go how your brain delusional thought it through.

Hence, with a heavy heart and a determination to confront the chaos head-on, you stood before the front door of his infamous penthouse. Emotions swirling within you like a tempest.

With a deep breath, you knocked, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway. The door swung open, revealing Jungkook’s bunny smile reaching his eyes.

“Well, well well, are we ready to talk like adults, pretty?” He mocked this whole situation because he knew this would end up in his favour, nonetheless.

He moved back to let you in, and you stepped into his apartment, a mixture of anger and desperation in your gaze.

“I know you took it,” you said, crossing your arms on your breasts. The heels of your black leather boots echoed in the apartment when you turned to face him.

“Took your breath away by that heated kiss, sexy, certainly. Otherwise, I did not take anything.” Jungkook scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. The tension in the room was palpable as you square your shoulders, refusing to back down. You blinked twice at his cheesiness. The tip of your tongue moved to rest on the bottom of your upper teeth, your smile spreading on your face. The chuckle came out of you so naturally, laughing at his ridiculously ridiculous behaviour.

“Don’t play dumb, I know it was all you. You malicious sabotaging petty boy—” You retorted, articulation perfectly clear while the words laced with underlying frustration and anger.

He sighed, weariness settling over him. “You think I stole your portfolio to sabotage your career? You’re giving me too much credit, love.” Here he comes.

“I said nothing about my portfolio, Jungkook.” You said playing with his name on your tongue. A tense silence hung in the air as he considered your words, clicking his tongue, clearly annoyed and you were just getting started.

“I managed to figure that out. A drink? —” He offered, shrugging her statements of like snow in summer whilst he moved to the small bar that was a part of his spacious living room.

“I don’t want a drink, Jungkook. I want it back now,” you replied, your tone cutting through the casual offer. The anger in your gaze intensified, fuelled by the frustration of dealing with his nonchalant attitude.

“Let’s talk, baby.” He gestured towards the living room, as if trying to usher you into a more comfortable setting for the impending confrontation. He knew this was just a little shower, the real storm was still far away, giving him space to prepare.

As you moved, you could not help but notice the contrast between your demeanour and his. While your arms were still crossed defensively, his posture exuded a calm confidence that irked you further.

You took a seat on the edge of the sofa, not willing to fully settle into the illusion of camaraderie. Jungkook, on the other hand, sprawled onto a nearby chair, the picture of nonchalance.

“I need that portfolio to get a job because a certain someone has to be bitchy and sabotage my whole career because his big ass ego cannot take rejection. Give it to me,” you fired off, your words sharp and accusatory. He leaned back in the chair, smirking.

“Those are very bold words, Y/N. I would prefer to think of it as a wake-up call for you, not sabotage.” Your incredulous glare only intensified.

“Are you fucking serious Jungkook? A wake up call? You’ve just jeopardised everything I’ve worked for, and you’re calling this a wake up call?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze locked onto yours.

“I can get you a better job.”

You scoffed. The audacity of his response fuelled the simmering anger within you.

“You can’t get a shit, so give it back to me, and I’ll be on my way,” you requested.

Jungkook’s smirk remained, an infuriating mix of arrogance and nonchalance.

“No,” he said, smiling. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, the frustration reaching a boiling point. He leaned back, seemingly unperturbed by your rising anger.

“What do you mean no?!” you shot back, your voice sharp.

“You were about to make a decision that would have consequences beyond your imagination. I had to intervene.”

“What the fuck are you on again?” Jungkook’s gaze remained fixed on you, the intensity of his stare almost unnerving while your voice went an octave higher. Your frustration reached its peak, and you stood up, pacing the room as you ranted. You were breathing heavily, trying to calm yourself.

You needed that portfolio, it was a collection of years of a work and your best work to be specific. The lousy new version won’t get you a job at no high-profile fashion brand and you cannot afford to go lower than your last position.

“Alright—” You said defeated, turning yourself to face him again, you put off your black leather jacket and fixed your low ponytail, slumping back to his sofa. Spreading your arms on the backrest and cross your legs.

Jungkook took a moment to breathe in the sight before him; he was throbbing for you.

“—what do you want?” you asked. He leaned back further into the chair, putting his masculine tattooed arms to rest on the back of his head, showing his abs from under the white tank top he is wearing.

“What do I want?” he mused, as if contemplating the question but he already knew.

“Spill it out.” You barked and he chuckled at your eagerness. He got up from his seat and dangerously slowly walked towards you.

When he reached you, both of his arms pressed to the leather of the sofa inches from you, caging your body. Your breath stammered as you looked at him towering over you, the golden chain around his neck hanging.

“Firstly, I want you to be my good girl, apologise for being a brat the other day and admit there is an “us”. Secondly—” he whispered seductively, closing the approximate distance while doing so. He was right in your face, looking over at your lips evidently, he was controlling himself to not attack them. He invaded your personal space. The sudden shift in atmosphere left you breathless, and you could feel the heat radiating between you.

You squared your shoulders, refusing to succumb to the intoxicating energy he exuded. “I won’t apologise for any shit, now secondly?” You said while trying to hold your horses. You hate to admit your pussy was clenching and leaking under his gaze. He was attractive, and no one could deny that.

His fingers grazed your cheek gently, a teasing touch that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. You swallowed hard, trying to maintain a semblance of composure.

“I want these feisty little plump lips wrapped around my thick cock—” you pushed him away from you once you heard his words. Grabbing your jacket and storming your way out to the door, angry with yourself that you let it go this far.

“You walk out that door, and you’re done in this city, fuck even the whole continent if I want,” Jungkook declared, his tone heavy with a sense of entitlement. The words hung in the air, a threat laced with possessiveness that sent a chill down your spine.

“You’re bluffing.” His eyes darkened, a storm brewing in their depths.

“You’re underestimating the consequences, Y/N. I’ll snap my fingers, and you won’t get a job. Anywhere.” A bitter laugh escaped your lips. You did not believe him one bit, determined to try harder at the job hunting.

“You’ve already done enough. You can’t do worse.” You scoffed, the absurdity of his demands pushing you further away. He stepped closer, the air thick with tension.

“You’re not leaving, Y/N. Either you’ll be my good girl and apologise, or all it will take is one phone call.” As you reached for the doorknob, he grabbed your arm with a force that bordered on aggression.

“I am my own woman, Jungkook.” Your eyes flashed with determination as you wrenched your arm free, emphasising every word of the sentence you just uttered.

With that, you swung the door open and stormed out, leaving Jungkook’s apartment and the tumultuous mess behind. The city lights greeted you outside, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere within.

Your telephone remained eerily silent, devoid of the calls and opportunities that once filled it with promise. Jungkook’s vindictiveness had effectively severed the threads connecting you to your professional life, leaving you adrift in a sea of uncertainties.

A tear escaped your eye as you clutched the piece of paper you fetched out of your mailbox — an eviction notice. You had fallen behind on rent, pleading with your landlord for more time, promising to pay in full for two months once you secured a job. But that ended up not happening, and that’s how you find yourself sitting in a messy apartment full of half packed boxes, no job, little money left, and a bottle of cheap wine.

Moving in with friends or seeking refuge with your parents was not an option. They never supported your dreams enough to provide for you in such dire circumstances, especially at your age. Unmarried, jobless, and on the brink of homelessness, you felt trapped.

Despite your efforts to secure another job, including poorly recreating parts of your portfolio, rejections piled up, and the search for a new apartment proved equally futile. Not like you could afford it anyway.

The city that once held promise now felt like a maze of closed doors and dead ends. The mere thought of dialling his number sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of pride and necessity wrestling within you.

You drank the last of your wine, hiccupped, and cried. With only twenty-four hours to vacate your flat for the new tenant to come in. The friends you once thought you could rely on were facing their own struggles, unable to provide the sanctuary you so desperately needed. You had nowhere to go apart to his clutches if you of course did not want to freeze to death in the bustling city. It confused you how it came to having no other option.

Taking a deep breath, you dialled his number, each ring echoing the surrender of your independence. The telephone rang in your trembling hand. As the call connected, a heavy silence hung in the air and you desperately tried to calm your breathing.

“Jeon speaking,” his voice crackled through the phone. You were shaking in cold sweat, your eyes blood red from crying and alcohol clouded your mind enough to call him.

“Hello?” you heard his voice speak again, and another sob left your lips. The lump in your throat made it difficult to speak, but you pushed through the discomfort.

“I-I’m sorry.” The man on the other line smirked, seemingly thrilled to hear your voice. The next sentence you uttered, however, was even sweeter music to his ears.

“I need you.”

You heard his car park in front of your building the next morning. The boxes were long gone on their way to the heart of Manhattan where Jungkook’s penthouse awaited. It was only you and your suitcase with only necessities packed inside. The reality of the situation hit you as you looked around at the empty apartment. The purple walls, once full of pictures from trips with your friends, were now bare. The fridge stripped of silly magnets you liked to collect, stood empty. Nothing left.

Taking a deep breath, you gripped the handle of your suitcase with a sense of resignation. You glanced out of the window on your way out, finding Jungkook casually leaning against his shiny black Jaguar, smiling directly at you. Closing your eyes, you mentally said goodbye to your small apartment.

Your hair, lazily put into a hair clip when you woke up, had a few stray strands escaping, framing your face that still showed signs of swelling from crying all night.

As you stepped out into the hallway, the door closing behind you, the weight of the suitcase in your hand served as a physical reminder of the choice you had made. Is this really your only option?

The sound of Jungkook’s footsteps echoed in the corridor, approaching closer with each passing second. He ran up the stairs just as you were locking the door. His gummy smile met your gaze, a clear expression of his happiness. The heartthrob had finally gotten you where he wanted you all along.

He was dressed in a denim jacket and jeans from the collection you worked on. As if he was intent on reminding you of something. His long curly locks were gone, replaced by a short mullet.

You, on the other hand, did not feel to dress classy and elegant as you usually did. You swapped heels for a pair of white sneakers, a tight designer skirt for simple blue boyfriend jeans and your upper body was covered by a white shirt layered with a pink shirt you loosely tight on your waist, leaving the buttons half open.

“Baby?” he called out. You must’ve zoned out, as now he was holding your suitcase in his hand, ready to leave.

“M’sorry, I was in my head,” you apologised. You didn’t want to upset him by negatively reacting to the pet name even though you irked to tell him you’re not his baby.

He smiled softly, putting the suitcase down, walking over to you. He caressed your cheek, leaning in for a kiss. Turning your face, he landed his lips on your other cheek. The man chuckled and put the freed strands of your hair behind your ear. “Don’t worry. I got you now.”

The drive to Jungkook’s penthouse was filled with an uncomfortable silence as the city lights passed by in a dizzying display.

“Welcome home!” The words hung in the air, the irony not lost on you. This was far from a home; it was a gilded cage you succumbed to. You did not answer him. You couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

He was saying something about a closet, but your mind totally spaced out looking at the boxes that you packed hours prior, casually sitting in his living room.

“Baby?” You looked at him, eyes wide when you realised you were not listening to him again.

“Do you want to start unpacking or should we head out for brunch first?” He approached you. Jungkook did not stop smiling since he pulled his car in front of your building.

Unpacking felt like an acceptance of this new reality, while brunch felt like an attempt to hold onto some semblance of normalcy.

“I... I think we should talk,” you finally managed to say, your voice carrying the uncertainty that lingered within. Jungkook’s smile wavered for a moment, but he quickly masked it.

You couldn’t ignore the fact that your life had taken a sharp turn, and the unfamiliar surroundings only intensified the sense of displacement. Jungkook threw himself at his sofa just where you were sitting months prior. He motioned with his hand, silently ordering you to sit.

“I promise not to bother you long. I just need you to get me off the blacklist so I can get a job. I can’t be tied to you indefinitely.” You spoke softly, careful to not anger him just yet. You knew he wouldn’t appreciate the direction this conversation was heading, but you needed to set the record straight. This was temporary, at least in your mind.

Jungkook’s expression shifted, a subtle tension in his features. He sighed. Leaning forward, Jungkook grabbed the remote control of the HiFi that was standing proud, setting it on, and whence the soft tones of Isaak’s “Wicked Game” resonated the penthouse, you could not help but raise an eyebrow.

He petted his knee, a silent invitation. You were not stupid to not understand what he wants, yet you opted to sit next to him instead of where he wanted you.

“Maybe we got lost in translation, love.” He spoke leaning closer to you. The music seemed to underscore the unspoken tension in the room.

“You won’t leave me, baby. I’ll keep you so satisfied and happy; you won’t even want to go.” He whispered to your ear. The atmosphere became charged with a palpable desire. His proximity sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of temptation and resistance.

“You can’t keep me here against my will, Jungkook,” you asserted, maintaining a thin thread of defiance. Yet, the allure of his touch lingered in the air, clouding your better judgement.

“Try me, love. I’ve got ways to make you stay,” he countered, his tone dripping with confidence.

It took all you have in you to stand up and storm to the large windows that provided a magnificent view of Manhattan. This time, however, he was right behind you.

You heard him growl. He was angry, and he proved so once you found yourself pinned to the large window, your back facing him. He attacked your neck right away, bruising every single inch. His hand roamed over your breast, squeezing them to the point you had to moan. The situation escalated rather quickly, your resistance made him press you to his back even harder.

“I’m so tired of your running,” he groaned into your neck. You put your hands on the glass trying to push yourself away and give yourself space to free from his grasp, but he has put a majority of his weight on you. You can feel his growing pulsating bulge on your heart-shaped bottom.

“Maybe I should show you, who you belong to, princess.” He cupped your sex through your pants, and you whimpered from the sensation. You knew this was utterly wrong; you should not react to his touch this way, but you couldn’t help to notice the wetness pooling in between your legs once he continues to attack your neck with his soft plump lips.

“Jungkook-” You tried to resist, but his hand was already done with unbuttoning your jeans, sliding right down to your core. Your panties were sticky, your head was spinning, and the part of a window was getting foggy right next to your mouth from your hot breath.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good.” He pulled his hand out of your pants for a second to wet his fingers and put them right back on the little bud that was waiting to be touched. He pressed his fingertips on your clit, circling it painfully slow. The heartthrob rutted his hips into your ass, looking for a friction, making you move your hips towards his hand. He chuckled to your ear.

“If you want that job, baby, why don’t you deserve it first?” you could sense a little hint of mockery in his voice. The pulsating beats of the music seemed to echo the rhythm of his movements. Now slow and calculated.

As the song reached its crescendo, his finger entered your vibrating heat. “Hm?” He pried, his finger moving in and out in punishingly slow, drawing silent moans from you when he brushed up the right spot.

“W-what do you want?” You stammered out of yourself.

“You. All of you of course.” Jungkook replied in a heartbeat. Your heart raced and your head was clouded by the pleasure he was providing. Moving his finger slightly faster, you found yourself bowing forward, your body wanted him to reach deeper.

“Please—” you whimpered when he slowed down the tempo again.

“Give me an answer baby, will you be my good girl?” Now it was your mind that raced, grappling with the implications of his question while squeezing your walls around his finger.

“Maybe you need a little more convincing, hm?” He softly bit your earlobe whilst inserting his second finger into your heat, making you moan louder than before. You pressed your forehead onto the glass and looked down at his hand in between your legs. The sight made your pussy clench even harder. A small tear escaped your eye, you are overwhelmed, and the pleasure is clouding your sound judgement.

“What will it be, baby?” His fingers finally raised the tempo, and your eyesight was getting blurry, biting your lip from the sensation.

“Fuck—” you nibbed at your bottom lip a bit harder, trying to fight with yourself. But you couldn’t. He was playing a game, and he was winning this round.

“Yes!” you screamed louder than you intended when he hit the sweet spot, making you see stars. You did not necessarily want to agree. It was more of a reaction to how good his fingers feel inside of you. But Jungkook’s interpretation did not align with yours.

What you did not expect is the sudden feel of emptiness once his fingers abdicated its place. You protested with an unpleasant whine of frustration.

He spun you to face him, being quick enough to grab you below your ass, illocutionary forcing you to jump up. Jungkook leaned in to kiss you while he navigated the apartment blindly, right to the master bedroom.

Now you were feeling thrown. Literally. Your body bounced a little while Jungkook stood at the foot of his king sized bed adorned in black sheets. You could smell his expensive cologne on them. He was very eager to continue what you started.

His shirt was long gone and so were his pants when he was pulling down yours, alongside with your through-and-through wet panties. He very quickly inhabited his head in between your legs. Licking all the dirty juice your pussy was producing.

You could not help but to bury your fingers into his hair, slightly tugging on it once he decided to abuse your clit, sucking on it, his piercing cold against your skin. You were starting to feel the knot inside your lower belly, moaning and panting out loud.

“I’m gonna!—” you breathed out heavily. Squeezing your eyes shut, feeling the heat rushing your body.

“Not yet,” said the heartthrob, parting away from you. You shot your eyes open to look at him towering over you, his briefs thrown away somewhere in the room, and his pride leaning proudly against his abdomen, angry and red. The perfect opposite of soft. You gulped down. He was definitely not lying when he suggested he is thick.

The heartthrob helped you get rid of the rest of your clothes, bending down to lay a single kiss right above your clit, maintaining eye contact with you all the time. Sticking his tongue out yet again, making a straight wet line up your belly, ending at the valley between your breasts.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He groaned, squeezing your tits while pumping his dick, he could not take it anymore.

He spread your legs further, making space for him to fit right in. Your walls are trembling from excitement, especially when he presses the length of his cock to your lips, coating himself in your juices.

“Condo—” you went to say when his lips silenced you in a hard passionate kiss. He moaned to your mouth, pressing the tip of his cock to your entrance, stretching you open. You pressed your hands to his chest, parting away from him. He looked at you with confusion and you repeated yourself.

“Condom, Guk,” you said, using the nickname in an attempt to soften his hard features. Something told you that you might have just pissed him off. The heartthrob sighed and involuntarily got up, walking all the way to the bathroom, giving you a million-dollar view of his ass. Your gaze then shifted to his muscular shoulders, involuntarily admiring his impressive physique. You couldn’t deny he was hot as hell.

Your nipples were perky from the thrill that your body was going through. It was quite some time since the last you got laid. Maybe that’s why it took him minimum effort to turn you into a whiny, needy little bitch.

You heard the light switch going off in the bathroom, and the man himself appearing in the doorframe with the little shiny square in his hands. Tearing it open, he returned to sit on his knees on the bed while sliding the condom on.

He grabbed your legs under your knees with one swift movement, sliding you closer to him. One hand aiming his cock to your entrance the other finding its place on your throat, holding it with the right pressure to elevate your pleasure. Pushing all the way through, you whimpered loudly at the intrusion. He was big, and you felt like you’re going to explode. The heat rushed through you like a momentary fever.

The heartthrob could not wait for you to adjust to his size, and he started to snap his hips into you in a punishing tempo, making your body bounce up at every thrust and clench your eyes shut tightly. Loud moans coming out of you.

“You take me so well, baby.” He whispered into your ear seductively, panting and groaning from the pleasure. He was on cloud nine, finally having the woman he longed for quite some time.

“Got me waiting for this pussy almost the whole damn year.” You met his hungry gaze, your moaning synchronised with his. He crushed his lips to yours one more time before thrusting his cock in and out of your heat faster and deeper.

You bit down on his lip, him groaning at the sensation, slapping your ass in the heat of the moment.

“This pussy was fucking designed for me.” He claimed you.

He was hitting all the right places, making you squeeze your eyes shut again. He upheld his promise to fuck you good. You can regret this after, now it’s not the time.

“M’wanna pound this pretty ass too.” He pulled out of you, turning you to lay on your belly, slapping the already reddened skin before setting you on all fours, ass up. He did not hesitate to rut inside of you again, feeling him all the way in your stomach, you screamed his name.

“Jungkook!” his thrusts set a brutal pace that you were not sure if you’ll survive. Their moans continued to echo in the room.

“You belong to me.” He growled, pounding your pussy, the sound of skin slapping was audible ten times louder than usual. The knot in your lower belly appeared again, got you moaning uncontrollably.

Jungkook sensed that your climax was near and went to rub your clit with the desire to make you cum all over him while getting himself off with you.

“Guk—” you choked on your words, your legs and hands were trembling, tears springing out of your eyes. You desperately needed to cum.

“I know, baby.” He kissed the arch of your back, making his hand and hips move even faster, hitting your cervix. If this is heaven, you don’t want to leave.

“I-I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!” You shouted, feeling the knot untying itself rather quickly. Jungkook growled right to your ear. He was close too, dangerously close.

“Baby!” He whimpered, feeling the tension rising.

Your juice splashed the sheets as you squirted all over his cock, crying, the orgasm hitting you way too hard. Jungkook’s hips did not stop while he chased his own release, complimenting you, your body, and how you are such a good girl while doing so. With a loud moan and one last deep thrust, he came in you, holding you still while he emptied himself. The warmth of his release felt too authentic, but you were too fucked out to notice.

As you were also too fucked out to notice the empty abandoned condom laying on the ground.

“I love you so much baby—”

It was getting dark outside when you woke up, your head pounding as you looked over your naked body and evident ache in between your legs. The sheer curtains that are covering the floor to ceiling windows, once airy and light, now filter the early evening light into a soft, diffused glow, creating a cosy atmosphere. You cuddled the soft sheets that were wrapped around your lower body, thinking that you could sleep some more.

But when you heard the muted notes of En Vogue’s Whatta Man blasting somewhere in the penthouse, any hopes of serenity were shattered. A curse slipped through your lips as the reality of your surroundings hit you.

“Fuck,” you muttered through your teeth, the small fists pounding against the bed. To muffle the scream of mixed emotions, you seized a leopard-patterned pillow, pressing it against your face.

You had willingly let this happen, all for the pursuit of a damn book and damn fucking job and your damn fucking career. But why was it so precious, you might ask? Your portfolio wasn’t just a collection of pages bound together; it was a culmination of dreams, aspirations, and relentless hard work. Each design you made over the years, a carefully curated piece of your artistic vision, held a piece of your soul.

The portfolio was your identity as a designer, a visual storyteller who poured emotions, creativity, and skill into each piece of clothing. It was something you presented yourself with, and you believed it held the power to open doors. It got you your first adult job after you spent two years in the big apple on your own, dreaming big while washing dishes behind the counter.

And it got you the second job of your early fashion career, a higher position than sales assistant, the head designer at the men’s wear division at Calvin Klein. You were aiming to become the head of the department when a better offer came your way, from Guess.

The project they offered you to be a part of was a kind of interview to get through and sit as the executive director of the women’s department. You were thrilled to accept as you always wanted to design for your gender.

And he fucked it up. So, you have to excuse yourself by letting your guard down, giving him a chance to sway you. You are doing this for you and your career.

You sat on the bed, eyeing the modern bedroom that screamed his name as did the smell of the room. Just like you remembered before you blacked out from all the pleasure he forced upon you.

Sighing, you moved your sore naked body to the edge of the bed. A black leather armchair caught your eye, a clean set of underwear laid out on it, burning under your gaze. You gulped down. This was your mess after all. You let him come too close—extremely close, judging by the recurring ache between your legs.

“Fuck it, it’s fine.” You’d manage somehow, or at least, that’s how you decided to play along with his nonsensical fantasy and possessive behaviour.

You tiptoed down the penthouse, searching for the devil. You knew you were going the right way when the music grew louder. Peeking from the narrow hallway into the living room, he was nowhere in sight. Only the RCA telly with MTV on indicated that he must’ve been there.

The sizzling sound of something cooking and a pleasant aroma hit your ears and nose. He was in the kitchen, cooking. Jeon Jungkook was in the kitchen, cooking. A certain degree of domesticity welcomed you as you stepped into the all-blue kitchen. His kitchen was way nicer than yours, you noted. Large cabinets, the island full of food ingredients he was preparing. Your gaze lingered as your eyes traced his masculine, naked back, tattoos shouting at you. Your knees felt weak at the sight, your body reacting to him as if he were the alpha wolf.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip. He was swaying his hips to the rhythm of the song. Even from this point of view, you could tell he is in a very good mood. It seemed like he was glowing.

You leaned against the arch, contemplating whether to make your presence known or observe from the shadows. Before you could decide, he turned around, planning to cut the vegetables, his eyes locking onto yours immediately. Bunny smile plastered on his face, reaching his ears — a juxtaposition to how anxious you looked in his big shirt.

Quickly circling the kitchen island, he reached you in a matter of seconds. The heartthrob was beaming with happiness seeing you in his kitchen, in his shirt, barefoot, face raw, and all his. At least, that was his perspective after he finally got you where he wanted you.

“Baby!” He squeaked happily, pulling you by your wrists. The movement causes your petite frame to collide with his naked torso. Jungkook did not let you speak even if you wanted to, instead he pulled you even closer, pressing his lips to yours. You yelped, surprised by the unexpected collision. The vulnerability you felt in his presence only heightened as he claimed you, his happiness seemingly derived from having you exactly where he wanted—vulnerable and dependent on him.

The kiss lingered for a moment, and as Jungkook pulled back, his eyes locked onto yours again, gleaming with an unspoken mischief you could not decipher. He seemed to revel in the flustered state he had induced, and a cocky grin played on his lips.

“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered, his warm breath grazing your ear as he finally released your wrists, pecking your lips softly again. The shirt you wore clung to your form.

“It’s almost five pm.” You muttered back after you gave the digital clock on the stove a glance. He laughed it off, not replying.

“How do you like your steak?” he asked, his tone casual as if the passionate kiss hadn’t just occurred.

“M-medium rare,” you stammered, still processing the sudden turn of events. He chuckled, the sound resonating in the cosy kitchen as he came back to the stove to resume cooking, what you assumed is your dinner. Your stomach growled loudly when the delicious smell hit your nostrils, loudly. Jungkook even looked your way, encouraging you to take whatever you wanted from the fridge that was next to him, until dinner was ready.

You looked at the silver double-door fridge, and suddenly, your hunger vanished. Those were your magnets that were on your fridge just hours prior. He went through your boxes and unpacked them. The world was spinning, and your stomach was dangerously twisting.

He noticed the change in your expression, the playfulness in his eyes fading as he followed your gaze to the fridge.

“Something wrong, baby?” he inquired. You swallowed hard, attempting to mask the unease that threatened to bubble to the surface.

“No, nothing,” you replied, forcing a tight smile. His attention returned to the stove, the sizzling sounds and savoury aroma filling the kitchen. The clock on the stove continued its indifferent march towards evening. But your mind stopped.

“I-I think—” you stammered, it was hard for you to speak when there was an evident lump in your throat that wanted to emerge to the surface.

“Baby?” he raised a brow at you, letting everything he was doing to approach you again. You gulped down, trying to breathe it out.

“I think... I need—,” you tried, the words escaping in a breathy whisper. Jungkook’s expression shifted from curiosity to concern as he stepped closer. That got you even more anxious and a quick escape was a way you opted.

Your legs carried you back to the room where you knew a bathroom would be near. You heard him calling your name, but he did not run to get you. He must have thought that you’re trying to run again, but when he saw you going the way the master bedroom is, he did not push it.

You slumped right to your knees, emptying your already empty stomach into the toilet. Tears stringed from your eyes. Before you could calm or clean yourself the door creaked open, and Jungkook’s concerned voice seeped into the bathroom.

“Oh my god! Are you okay baby?” He hovered in the doorway, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. You didn’t have the strength to respond, only offering a weak nod as you continued to empty the contents of your stomach.

His footsteps approached, and you could feel him kneeling beside you, one hand tentatively rubbing your back.

“Easy, baby. Easy,” he murmured softly.

After a moment, the nausea subsided, and you leaned back against the cool porcelain, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Jungkook remained by your side, a true concern readable in his eyes.

As you caught your breath, you couldn’t help but notice the familiar objects around the bathroom. Toothbrush, hairbrush, all your makeup and even your pyjamas, had found a place alongside Jungkook’s in the bathroom. He was blurring the lines between your lives.

Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you winced at the sight of prominent hickeys and bite marks adorning your neck. You caught Jungkook’s worrying gaze but did not pay attention to it longer than you needed to.

“When was the last time you ate properly, baby?” he asked, caressing the small of your back, kissing the top of your head. You touched the tender skin on your neck, a mix of shame and regret settling in the pit of your stomach.

You knew very well that this wasn’t a doing of the lack of nutrition within your body but it did stop you to think for a second. When was the last time you had a proper meal and not a cheap ramen noodles from a convenience store near your building? You did not recall, so you rather opted to shrug your shoulders and reach for your toothbrush that could have melted under your gaze at this point.

“Why don’t you freshen up, and I’m going to finish dinner.” He sighed and kissed your temple. You’ve let him. He has done worse. As he left the bathroom, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being exposed—physically, emotionally, and now even in your most private spaces. Your eyes lingered back on the assortment of makeup and personal items neatly arranged beside his.

Brushing your teeth never felt so foreign and unnatural. Your eyes darted around his room after you finished, and that’s when you noticed what you did not when you woke up —a closet, half-filled with your clothes. Neatly folded, hanged right beside his. Even your jewellery was sorted by the type of metal. Your shoes, your skirts, dresses, everything. He had seamlessly integrated your wardrobe into his, as if signalling an intention far beyond a temporary stay.

Then all your pictures scattered on the walls as you walked down the corridor back to the heartthrob who swayed you here. Feeling the unease building in your stomach again.

Jungkook stood by the table, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched you approach. His eyes flickered with a mixture of amusement and possession. This all seemed like a stage for a performance you hadn’t signed up for.

The steak, perfectly cooked to your liking, accompanied by a side of vegetables. The spread looked delectable, and your stomach rumbled again, reminding you that you hadn’t had a proper meal in days. The scent of the meal teased your senses.

As you picked at your food, a question lingered in the back of your mind—how had it come to this? Have you really had no choice but him? Was this worth the trouble? Perhaps.

Your parents would think of you as a failure if you returned home. and your pride did not allow you to pick up your old job and be a girl for everything. You worked in the fashion industry and you were willing to do anything to maintain it.

“Are you listening to me, baby?” Jungkook broke the stream of your consciousness, his voice soft yet insistent. You hummed in response but your ears could not pick precise words that left his mouth.

“There’s Grammys next week, do you have any design for the red carpet so we could match—”

“What about the job?” You interrupted him, setting your fork down, staring at him viciously.

“So the Grammys—” he tried to continue without replying to you but you were having none of it.

“So the job, Jungkook.” You said through clenched teeth one more time. You weren’t about to let him sidestep the conversation about your career.

He sighed, the corners of his mouth twitching with a momentary annoyance. The room crackled with tension, the unspoken power dynamics unravelling before you.

“You’ve been a very good girl so far—” he lifted the handkerchief he had on his lap and placed it on top of the table next to his glass of red wine.

“Why do you have to misbehave now.” His attempt to redirect the conversation towards your behaviour only fuelled your frustration.

“I’m not misbehaving, Jungkook,” you shot back, your voice sharp and unyielding. “I need to know about the job. I need to know that you’re actually doing something concrete to help me, not just playing puppeteer with my life.”

“There’s an opening at Givenchy, and Prada or Dior but—” your eyes were full of false hope.

“—until I can be sure you won’t leave me the second you get the new job. You won’t go to any interview.” He leaned back, a predatory gleam in his eyes, as if enjoying the power play.

Your mind raced, torn between ambition and self-respect. You had worked tirelessly to establish yourself, and the taste of success was within reach. Yet, the cost demanded by Jungkook was steep—an indefinite surrender of your autonomy.

“That’s not what we agreed upon—” You whined out, anxiety clutching your insights in tight grip.

“Oh but we did baby.” He answered swiftly, smiling sweetly.

“I—” you wanted to protest, but he was quick to dismiss any argument you wanted to come up with.

“I said I want you, and you agreed, baby. You can’t take it back.”

“What does that even mean?!” You whined out.

“That I won’t let you slip through my fingers again. You belong here with me, and you better learn your place or prepare for a farewell with the magnificent fashion world of yours.” The ultimatum echoed in your mind as his gaze was trying to make you submit. Jungkook’s possessiveness loomed over you, a suffocating force that sought to confine your wings.

“You can’t force me,” words slipped past your lips, a proclamation of your refusal to succumb to his dominance.

“You underestimate the lengths I’ll go to keep you, Y/N,” he retorted, his voice low and laced with a dangerous edge.

“You’re sick.” You spat out at him, standing up to leave when he grabbed you and held you tight. You were looking up at his face, seemingly angry with your words. His eyes darkened, a fleeting moment of anger crossing his features.

“Aren’t you a bit ungrateful, my love?” he seethed, his voice a low growl. The possessive tone sent shivers down your spine, but you refused to cower under his gaze.

“I’m providing you with shelter, food, money and most of all my love.”

“It’s sick, Jungkook. This isn’t love,” you shot back, your voice unwavering. He leaned in, his face inches from yours, his grip unyielding. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.

“You’re testing my patience, Y/N. You’re mine,” he retorted quickly, not letting you go. You wanted to protest, to tell him to fuck off, and even worse things, but he was not finished.

“Think with your pretty little head, won’t you?—” you glared at him, defiance burning in your eyes.

“—you can live like a princess, you can have your dream position and on top of that a loving significant other — me.” The seconds felt like an eternity, the weight of his possessiveness pressing down on you.

“What is success for when you cannot share the joy with someone you love.” He whispered, a sinister undertone in his words. You had a feeling he’s not only talking about you. You had to think, and you had to think quickly.

“You’re asking me to give up my autonomy, Jungkook.” You shot back, your voice unwavering. He scoffed, the air heavy with tension.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good, Y/N. You need me—” He chuckled, a condescending tone lacing his voice.

“—what were you gonna do if you didn’t come to me? Hm? Your mami and papi who are disappointed in you or your fake friends who did not bat an eye to try and help you out?—” You turned your face away from him, not wanting to let his words affect you.

“—I helped you. I am here for you!” He shook you, still holding a tight grip on you.

“All I’m asking in return is you to give yourself to me.” With a defiant push, you broke free from his grasp, leaving him seething in frustration. Covering your face with your palms, you sobbed.

“Love and loyalty is not that big of a price when you think about it.”

“You promise?” you choked out through your tears. You were tired, exhausted to the bone, and this was taking a bigger toll on you than you would expect. You wanted to trick him and instead he tricked you. But you needed to play by his rules to win in the game he started. His eyes softened momentarily, a twisted form of concern flickering in his gaze.

“I promise, baby,” he murmured, his tone almost soothing. The fire has ceased for now. Or so you thought. Despite the fragile promise, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were dancing on the edge of a precipice, held by the strings he so skilfully pulled. But the stakes were high, and you couldn’t afford to falter. You had no shelter, almost no money and no one to turn to. For now. You promised yourself, this is temporary. You will find a way out of this arrangement.

You finished your dinner. He insisted. You stripped naked while he was drawing the bath. He again insisted. The penthouse, filled with music and the fragrance of expensive candles. You allowed yourself to be led, like a puppet, your exhaustion overshadowing your instincts. As you sat there in the hot water, vulnerable, he wiped away your tears.

The water lapping against your skin is like an ominous reminder of the depths you found yourself in. Jungkook’s hands traced patterns on your back.

Jungkook, seemingly attuned to your exhaustion, wiped away your tears, the gesture carrying a strange mixture of care and control.

“It’s all gonna feel better once you accept it.” Said he, right to your ear, sending shivers down your naked body. You pressed your legs to your chest to hide yourself, a futile attempt at preserving some semblance of privacy, even though he had seen it all.

“I cannot grasp why you would do this to me, Jungkook,” you sobbed, letting him hold you against his chest.

“I did it for us, baby.” His hands firmly gripped yours now, making them stop hugging your knees. The heartthrob wanted you to relax in his presence. A laughable request considering the circumstances that led you here.

“Stop being delusional. There is no us.” You finally let him move your hands only for you to grab the frame of the bathtub and attempt to pull yourself up and away from him. He did not fancy this attempt of yours, and he let you know that by grabbing a large portion of your hair, dragging you back.

Your body slammed to his naked torso with a loud slap caused by the wet skin on skin contact. It took your breath away for a good minute.

“You didn’t seem to argue about it earlier today when my cock was hitting all-the-right-places, making you squirt, hmm?” Said the raven haired man, still holding your hair in his fist. He did not intend to hurt you, no, it was not as painful as the whole humiliating scenery and the fact you could not break free of him. He’s putting an example of what will happen once you stop behaving again. Putting you in your place — that’s what he called it.

“Matter of fact, Imma show you again that there’s us baby, until you realise it yourself.”

Trying to wiggle out of his grasp, you whimpered every time you pulled your hair back to make you stay still. And as if he changed his mind, your body was pulled out of the warm water, letting your hair go, making you fall down to the bright rug on the floor of the bathroom. Soaking it wet you looked up to him towering over your shivering physique.

“It was about time for you to show me how you are grateful to be my good girl—” he stepped closer. You did not want to look at him, knowing well what he is talking about.

“Open up baby—” you shook your head, pulling away from him and his hard member that he was holding just inches away from your face. You felt it meet your cheek and immediately retrieved yourself again which made him even more frustrated. His cock was painfully hard, and you were not cooperating.

The tattooed hand in your hair pulled you right back, his eyes bore to yours with a hard stare, and you swear they got even darker. His other hand was clutching your jaw, harder and harder until you involuntarily opened your mouth wide enough.

Taking the chance right away, he slipped his thick and hard manhood into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. He hissed at how your teeth slightly scraped his dick. You choked on it, but he was unfazed by it, continuing to thrust into your throat, making tears fall down your cheeks.

“I knew you could be my good girl.” He groaned, praising you with each of his hard thrusts into your mouth. Your breathing was shallow, and you tried to get as much air as you could. He was moaning loudly, the wet sounds of his cock slipping in and out of your mouth, covered by your saliva made him even more aroused and hungry for you.

“You just need a bit of a re-education.” He was getting lost in the pleasure your mouth was providing him, and you were deprived of the air you needed. Your hand hit his pelvis when you thought you’re going to pass out soon.

“Just a moment more, baby. I know you can take it.” He said through gritted teeth. Jungkook was panting loudly, mixing it with loud moans of your name.

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re my heaven.” Your nails were scratching his abdomen, trying to break free, but his hold was too strong. You were drooling all over his cock, and your hand started to spin from the lack of oxygen and how quickly your head was bobbing.

He was getting dangerously close and his sloppy movements reflected that. He managed to pull one last thrust before he was cumming down your throat. He was letting his dick soften, pressed on your tongue while the hot semen was springing out of his tip.

“Swallow.”

The night wore on, shadows dancing on the walls as you lay there, pressed to his chest, his hand limply laying on your hip, contemplating the surreal turn you took.

If anything arose in you during the intercourse you wish you would wipe out of your mind, it was a determination to break free from the suffocating grasp of the penthouse.

Jungkook laid beside you, his breathing steady, a façade of tranquillity painted on his features. As he drifted into a seemingly serene slumber, you waited for the right moment to seize the opportunity.

When you were certain he was deeply asleep, you carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, a shiver running down your spine as you tiptoed through the room.

The moon cast a pale glow through the sheer curtains, guiding your movements as you tiptoed across the room. Your hand grasped the cold doorknob, the soft creaking of the door threatened to betray your escape. Your body frozen in time, your pupils shaking, fearing what happens if he wakes up. You wait a minute to make sure he is not coming to drag you back before you open the door in one swift movement.

You rethought the tasks you listed in your plan. Find the portfolio and get the fuck out as quick as possible. Everything else is replaceable for you. The mindset that the portfolio is the only key to all your problems, remained.

The adrenaline surged through your veins, the pulse of your heart echoing in the quiet hallway you walked through to get to the front of the penthouse.

He never took you upstairs, therefore you assumed that’s where he must’ve hidden it.

You approached the staircase, the carpet soft beneath your feet. The air seemed to grow heavier with every ascending step. The possibility of him waking up was not zero.

As you reached the upper level, you noticed the subtle shift in the ambiance. The hallway, adorned with pieces of art that whispered tales of luxury, and all his awards he won during his career, displayed to show his success. You passed several open doors, a home recording studio in one of them, be ridden of what you were looking for.

The hallway led you towards a set of double doors. That must be it. The doors creaked open, your gaze scanning for any sign of your portfolio. Your eyes flickering between the meticulously arranged accolades and the sprawling desk. He must be using this room as his office.

The seconds stretched into minutes, the urgency escalating with each passing heartbeat. You began with the drawers of the glass table, trying to be as quiet as possible. You cannot afford to cause commotion.

Anxiety wrapped around you, a vice tightening with every passing moment. You went through the library too, looked under every surface, you could not find it.

With a deep breath, you steadied yourself. There must be another place he could have hidden it. Your eyes fell upon the stack of papers, leaning your head to the side you examined the tabloid underneath with your face on it.

You fished it out in mere seconds, eyeing it unbelievably. If you were on the cover of a tabloid you would for sure know that. But you were not aware that your face appeared in Star magazine, right beside Jungkook. “Jungkook’s Mysterious Muse Revealed!” the headline screamed at you.

It was not only you after all. Society has convinced Jungkook that you two are sort of an item. A clandestine affair, a narrative spun by the society, linking your name with Jungkook’s in a tale of intrigue.

It was dated right when you started working on Klein’s campaign, back in April. It is almost the end of November now, and this is the first time you’re seeing this. You couldn’t fathom how deeply the web had been woven around you. The urgency of the situation intensified, and you combed through every conceivable hiding spot.

A sudden noise from downstairs snapped your attention. Fear gripped you, and your heart raced. Did he wake up? The urgency of the situation intensified, and you felt the weight of the clock ticking against you.

You sobbed and when you went to rub your eyes, they fell upon the other room diagonally from the one you were searching now. The doors were slightly ajar and you could see soft shades of colours within. In a last-ditch effort you marched towards it.

But ever stepping inside you regretted. The whole scenery that was revealed once you opened the door swiftly caught your breath in your throat.

The soft shades of colours painted a haunting picture—a baby room, unfinished and untouched by time. The sight startled you, sending a shiver down your spine. This can’t be.

“No..” You whispered to yourself, panicking. Your hands found their place in your hair. He is one delusional man. There is no other explanation, he is sick in the head if he thinks he is going to baby trap you.

A sense of dread overwhelmed you, and in your shock, you stumbled over something on the floor, hitting your head in the process. You groaned from the pain, forgetting that this commotion must have been loud enough for Jungkook to wake up.

As you rolled to the side, your eyes widened in disbelief. The portfolio was taped to the bottom of a cabinet. Without a second thought, you ripped it free, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

The rain outside intensified, a symphony of droplets against the windows. With the portfolio clutched in your hands, you ran down the stairs, right to the front door you prayed would not be locked. Would he be that careless? Yes. The degree of his mental instability was enough for him to believe that you are his and you would not think of running. He cut off every single option you had.

First, by making sure that your former employer would get to know you’re planning to leave the brand, enough for them to let you go. Second, he successfully obtained your portfolio that you were stupid enough to not make a copy of, which resulted in not meeting the deadline with Guess and losing that job opportunity too.

Third, he did not expect you to not stay the first you went to his penthouse but he was determined to go to extremes. So, every single fashion brand that had department stores in New York and in the rest of the world, backlisted you. No job application you sent, assistant buyer, a visibly lower position to what you had at Klein, would be turned down.

Fourth, make sure your landlord has already a tenant replacing you, ready to pay double for your apartment if they can move in as soon as possible.

That you’re alienated from your parents played his cards right and he never wished anything bad upon someone else, but how he thanked God that your friends have either too small apartments for another person to live in or they were struggling even more than you were. But lucky for you. He was right there, waiting for your call.

The handle felt too cold in your hand once you pushed the front door open merging the distance to the elevators, you were madly pushing the down button.

The seconds felt like an eternity as you waited for the elevator. Your breaths came in short, erratic bursts, mirroring the frenetic pace of your heart. Quickly stepping inside the metal box you heard it.

“Y/N?!” Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. His eyes momentarily locked with yours. You were clutching your portfolio to your chest, the other hand pressing the close button, praying it will close faster.

He must have heard you running down the stairs, or perhaps when you tripped and fell. You even forgot that you’ve hurt yourself. The adrenaline was overshadowing the pain.

“Come back right now!” He was mad, that much you could tell.

With the last determined push, you closed the door on him, severing the visual link between you. Letting out a relieving breath, you knew that this is far from being over. The elevator descended, carrying you away from the penthouse.

He cannot make it all the way down in time before you’ll disappear from the area. You prayed, he would not.

The lobby welcomed you as the doors opened, the room blurred as you stormed towards the exit, your heart pounding in rhythm with the rain. You burst into the rain-soaked night. Clutching the book tightly, a surge of triumph coursed through your veins.

The cold drops pelted against your skin. The relentless downpour soaking your clothes and hair. Running towards the street, you waved at the cars, hoping a taxi would stop.

It took a minute for some yellow car to appear at the curb, not wasting time, you ran towards it.

A smile appeared on your face after a long time. You did not know where you’re going, nor what you’re going to do next but Jungkook was never supposed to be your option and now you got the chance to choose differently or not? This is your second chance, and you’re willing to take it.

Your hand touched the handle of the yellow vehicle, opening the door and planning to leap inside as quickly as possible.

A strong tattooed hand closed abruptly. You gulped down an enormous lump in your throat, almost not breathing. How could this happen? It was mere minutes. Did he run the stairs? Did you take too long to catch a cab? Should you just run as far as possible?

Every single thing you could have done differently would not change the outcome it seems. And every single thing worked out in his favour, again.

His palm pressed on the taxi door firm, you could not open it anymore nor he would let you hop in the front seat. Your heart pounded in your chest, the tension and fear to face him was killing you. The portfolio now felt like a burden, if you make peace with losing it and your career, would you avoid this?

You could feel his eyes burning holes to the back of your head.

“I will not go back.” You said, voice resolute, but inside you were shaking. You could feel his hot breath on your cold skin, similarly you could feel his body pressing to your back. Once he reached your ear, you felt his lips mere inches from it, whispering.

“You will.”

I N T E R L O G U E

Jungkook settled into the plush leather chair after he finished carefully unpacking all your belongings, believing he is helping you to settle down. His fingers deftly dialled his mother’s number. As the phone rang, he gazed out over the city lights sprawling beneath him, a realm he had conquered with ruthless determination.

His new song, obviously written about you, was an enormous hit, granting him another Grammy nomination. But what was his success for when he did not have his love to share it with?

He smiled to himself, he got you. After long months of chasing you, then giving you the space you needed to realise he is your best shot in this world, you’re finally where you belong. Next to him.

The familiar voice of his mother greeted him, warm and comforting.

“Eomma—” Jungkook said, his tone affectionate.

“Jungkook, dear! How is my baby?” His mother’s voice held a blend of joy and concern.

“I’m doing well, Eomma. I have some news to share,” he said, his eyes glancing toward the bedroom where Y/N lay, unaware of the conversation taking place.

“Oh? Do tell,” his mother replied, anticipation evident in her voice. Jungkook leaned back, a subtle smile playing on his lips.

“Y/N moved in.” His mother’s delight was palpable through the phone. Jungkook let her know the very moment he stepped into your office that he is very much interested in you. That he met the special one he wants to grow old with.

As he spoke, he subtly weaved a narrative of love and destiny, carefully crafting the tale of their supposed connection. His mother listened attentively, hanging onto every word.

“Are you going to propose over Christmas like you wanted, Kookie?” His mother gasped with excitement. Jungkook glanced at the bedroom once more, satisfaction settling within him. The diamond ring well hidden deep inside of the closet. But that’s given and final in his mind, there’s something more he selfishly wants. Not only will it make sure you won’t be able to leave him any more, it will give you reason to grow to love him back. After all, he would be the only person who you can grow old with.

“We’re trying for a baby, Eomma.”

©pennyellee. please do not repost

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Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! ♥

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

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roturo · 10 months

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Written All Over Your Face dick grayson x reader

→ summary: “Well, you know what they say, Love and Hate are two sides of a very, very thin line. For what I can see, you have a pent up sexual frustration written all over your face Dick.”

→ warnings: SMUT. p in v, unprotected sex (don't be dumb and wrap it), enemies to lovers, heroe!reader, breeding kink, bulge kink ¿?, not proof-read, possessive behavior, begging...

words: 2k

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK. THANK YOU. ENJOY. SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

Being a heroe wasn't easy. Neither being considered a competition for Nightwing. The Ex-Robin. The Dick Grayson.

Both being ¨super-heroes¨ with no powers brought many controversial articles between you two, not only at the Gotham-Batman times, but also now at the new Titans times.

You never thought seeing him again and his boyish smile and attitude. No wonder why he has many girls falling for him, not only as Nightwing, but also as his real identity. But this rough times between the heroes, made the destiny bringing you together again.

Both of you had mutual friends, and when Dawn invited you to meet the new Titans, and asked you for help to train them, you never thought of seeing him again, neither of both of you training teenage kids how to become high quality-trained super heroes.

¨Sorry.¨ Were the last words you heard from Dawn, when she left you with bird boy at the training room, giving you an apologetic smile.

God bless her natural charm and being the trusting friend she is because you couldn't hit her face right now with the rage you're feeling.

¨Hi!¨ A green-haired boy said to you, he had the same, maybe not as pretty, boyish smile like Grayson. ¨Hello...?¨

¨Gar.¨ He told you, not putting down the smile.

With just a nod and a not so happy smile, your eyes moved into a purple-haired girl, who just smiled at you and said her name. ¨Rachel.¨ She hit the boy next to her with her elbow, murmuring his name.

¨Jason.¨ He said, ¨Is this your girlfriend Dick? Because she's pretty good looking for a guy like you. But yeah, what she's doing here anyways?¨

Oh. Yeah. Bird boy. He's here.

¨Yeah Grayson, what’s going on?¨ Completely ignoring the fact Dick was about to answer Jason’s question with furrowed brows and you obviously knowing why you're here since Dawn explained you. ¨And no, i'm not his girlfriend.¨ You looked at Jason with a smile which changed into a fake smile when your eyes returned to Dick. ¨He wishes.¨ You said, your head turning to the side, obviously trying to make him angry. At which he only scoffed, knowing you well enough to know what you were trying. ¨Yeah number two, maybe we can just pass at me explaining you why you´re here.¨

Number two? He WISHES.

¨I know why am I here. I don´t know if your little brain remembers you made Dawn bring me here to help you train this kids.¨ You got closer to him, not breaking eye contact. ¨And number two? pfft, If you were number one, maybe you wouldn't have been replaced by new Robin here.¨

That got him exactly where you wanted him. He might seem like a strong and rough guy, but behind all that image of big boy, there’s nothing else but trauma.

You couldn’t help but notice how his jaw clenched at the small giggle Jason let when you mentioned Dick being replaced. Side-eyeing him, Jason stopped. Dick sighed trying to calm himself down.

“First. I didn’t know Dawn brought you here, she just told me about bringing the perfect person to help me train them, I was not expecting you.” You could tell he was still angry at the remark, so he wanted to correct you. “Second. I didn’t got replaced. I left Wayne by choice of mine.”

“And third. I’m not longer Robin.”

It got into a really tense vibe between you and Dick trying to kill each-other with just your eyes, everyone in silence, clearly uncomfortable at this new encounter.

“Can both of you stop eye-fucking eachother and can we finally start the training?” Jason said, trying to bring both of you back to earth.

That clearly caught both of your attention to what Jason said, clearly annoyed at the wrong remark of how both of you were looking at each-other. “We’re not “eye-fucking” each-other Jason, stop getting into other’s people conversations.” With that, Dick started grabbing everything for the training of today, moving on. Jason just raised his arms at the air, (like when they’re showing they’re not armed), with a small smirk on his face.

“Well, you know what they say, Love and Hate are two sides of a very, very thin line. For what I can see, you have a pent up sexual frustration written all over your face Dick.”

That brought a hard, and big laugh to your face, how could Jason say that? This kids don’t even respect their “leader” This was going to be a funny training.

After what seemed like 1 hour of training, and getting to know the kids, you could get which were the flaws and weaknesses. Maybe you couldn’t understand quite well Rachel’s powers, but some time will do it.

You asked Gar where you could sleep the night, since it was already getting late and your most likely staying some days here, you'll also need some extra clothes at least for today.

Gar told you to stay in the spare room next's to Dick's, great, what a nice neighbor you have. He also gave you some clothes you could use tonight, tomorrow you could go back to your place and get some clothes, your skincare.... and I guess your super-hero suit.

When going out of the bathroom after a long shower (which you deserved), Dick was standing there, shirtless, all sweaty, and just with some grey sweatpants on... he looks.... nice, yeah. Obviously annoyed but when he saw you, his face turned into... panic?

He doesn't know what's happening to him right now, might be stress he needs to get relieved, yeah, sure, that's the reason he feels his pants getting tighter every-second he keeps looking at you right now.

¨Are you okay bird-boy why´re you just static over here, I know you have problems, but this a new one.¨ You looked up and down at Dick's figure, obviously checking him out, not like he needs to find out, noticing he´s quite handsome, not like you would tell him also, he's hot, and he knows it.

¨That´s... That´s my shirt¨ Was all that Dick could say, well, shit.

You knew the t-shirt had a distinct laundry soap scent which remind you of someone, and maybe a pint of perfume, but who could blame you?! Might be Gar's or Jason's!

¨And those... are my boxers.¨ double shit.

You could see he was obviously blushed and you're sure you are too, but what a coincide. It's like you could hear Rachel, Gar and Jason's laughing at the both of you.

¨Well... do want me to give them back at you?¨ You broke the tense silence, trying to take your, his, shirt-off, completely forgetting you're in front of him, you needed to find a way out of here.

¨No, no, no, stop! Leave it there, then you give it back to me.¨ He assured you, grabbing your hands and pulling them down with your, his? t-shirt. ¨And it looks better on you anyways.¨ That's all he said before speed entering to the bath-room.

¨Hey Dick!, Wait.¨ To say you couldn't feel the wetness of your pussy going out and asking for some relief, would be considered a crime. ¨What do you ne-¨ You cut him off by entering the bath-room closing the door in the process, both of your lips connecting in a perfect symphony like they were made for each-other. He left a sudden whine at the loss of the soft touch of your lips.

¨Oh.¨ Was all he could say, you don't understand what happened to you, it wasn't definitely a normal behavior between you two. ¨Oh my god. I'm so sorry Dick, I don't know what happened to me, i'm-¨ You couldn't finish the last sentence when you felt his lips in yous again. A little hesitant this time, he stops, unsure of his actions, but he lose it all. ¨Do it again.¨

That's all he needed to continue kissing you, hands caressing you neck, positioning them as a chocking posture, later going to trace your jaw as he continues kissing you.

He started giving you kisses trailing down your chin, making you moan at the specific spot that made your legs shake, he started leaving love bites between your chest, later going down on you, pulling your t-shirt upwards, getting between your breasts and marking them as his.

¨Please Dick... Please make me feel good.¨ It´s like something got into him when his hands started roaming your body like crazy, pulling your shirt off, your hand reaching his sweatpants, and later his cock, noticing he has no underwear under neat it. ¨It's like you were ready for this bird-boy, ah!-¨ Even when you try to tease him, he finds a way to tease you back even in a better way, his fingers playing with your nipple had you giddy and trembling. ¨Be a good girl if you want me to fuck you.¨

All you could do is nod and start stroking his hard cock, already leaking pre-cum which made the stroking easier, playing with the head had him as a moaning mess.

“Fuck, wait — shit. Mm— fuck. Wh-where did you learn to do that?” He left a whiny moan at the lose of your touch.

“Well, the noises you make are a pretty good indication of how you like it.” He man-handled you, turning you around, making you see yourself at the mirror.

“…God you sound so fucking cocky right now and it’s turning me on even more.” He ripped apart the boxers you were wearing. ¨Don't worry, I have plenty more.¨ Fuck him and his fucking pretty smile.

With no more waiting, he positioned himself, and started thrusting into you. He fits just right, and could touch all the places you couldn't reach.

“Let me know if I’m doing anything wrong, okay? I want to make you feel as good as possible.” Even when he's fucking your brains out, he finds a way to be that kind and nice guy he is.

“O-Okay.” Was all you could tell him, before & after some moans and whines from both of you, one specific thrust had you seeing stars.

His hand lingered down your tummy and he moaned at the bump he could feel, when he was going in and out with his thrusts. ¨Oh baby, I'm going to make you mine, fill you up.¨

He started playing with your clit, it had you crazy all the feelings of his body, his thrusts, him.

¨´You´re so good for me, all for me... 'm gonna' fill you up with my babies, 'm gonna make you a mommy, full of my cum every-day just to make sure.¨

That was all you needed to cum, with just some last thrusts he came inside you too, fulfilling his promise of keeping you full of his cum. He waited for you to calm down, before he inserted two of his fingers, recollecting the cum that was falling out your hole, inserting it inside you again, making you moan at the sudden intrusion.

He got the tub ready, and got you inside it, in front of him while he cleaned your sore body while kissing it.

¨I can't believe it took me all this years to realize how I feel about you.¨ Your heart was anxious at how your confession would be received.

¨Doesn't take an idiot to figure out. You couldn't tell I was and I am in love with you because you were too busy trying to beat all that rivalry. I was in love the moment you kicked my ass for the first time.¨

You chuckled at the confession, and laid your head on his shoulder where you could see his dumb smirk. ¨You have that stupid smirk on your face again, can't you have a serious conversation with me?, can we fight again?¨

He laughed at your comment ¨Not a possible thing for me when you look this cute all marked by me and confessing your feelings for me.¨ The small pecks he started leaving on your neck and back had you giggling.

¨I love you.¨

¨I love you too, bird-boy.¨

#dick grayson x reader smut #dick grayson smut #dick grayson #nightwing smut #nightwing x reader smut #dick grayson x reader #nightwing #nightwing x reader #titans x reader #titans smut #jason todd smut

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buckets-and-trees · 3 months

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The Only Way of Knowing You [Nick Fowler x Reader]

Title: The Only Way of Knowing You Characters/Pairings: leshy!Nick Fowler x curvy female!Reader Word Count: 7.8k

Summary: When you visit a cabin, you're drawn more and more to the forest, the flora and fauna, and a handsome stranger you cross paths with in the woods.

Content Warnings: explicit smut - nipple play, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse, initial consent to questionable/dubious consent ending, kidnapping, intimidation, implied stalking and explicit stalking, human to monster transformation, monster fucking

Logistical Notes: Very belated, but this is my addition to the Enchanted Birthday Fest and my humble gift to all of you who come around and read what I write. Incorporating Mania (obsessive love - stalking) for @the-slumberparty's Eight Types of Love challenge. Thank you @goldylions and @sgt-seabass for blasting this with your beta energy. It certainly benefitted from your poking, prodding, and polishing.

Narrative Notes: There's a lot of leshy lore that's evolved over time since differing versions existed across Europe and you've got modern media takes. I took pieces that stuck out to me as I combed through. The most significant trait I adopted was that a leshy king could shape shift into human or animal and would adopt disguise to hide, adapt, or even lure people into the forest.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You gasped and stopped on the trail.

“A dog,” you whispered to no one but yourself, a grin splitting across your face.

The wilderness of the forest around you rose into a small, banked ridge on the left. You had only just heard the rustle of leaves that drew your attention over to that side to see the creature. You couldn’t tell the breed for sure – all dark fur, pointed ears, looking something between a husky and a wolf – but with him being so calm and willing to come this close to the path when he’d undoubtedly heard you walking, you assumed he couldn’t be too wild or feral. He had piercing blue eyes that locked with yours.

You were so tempted to try to call him over, but if he was wild, it was probably better not to, and if he belonged to someone, you didn’t want to lead him away from where he needed to go.

So, after another beat, you continued along your path.

After the four hour drive to your destination with some of the team from your office, as soon as you had unloaded and eaten lunch, you had been eager to get away to stretch your legs and to have some time away from everyone else, and you had some time before the rest of the team arrived for the work retreat your boss had put together. You had six days of training, strategizing, and team bonding ahead of you with a professional consultant and facilitator flown in who had built the agenda. There were breaks built throughout the day, and as you set off for this first walk, you imagined both the physical movement and the time away from the group would help keep you focused, energized, and from actually strangling your co-worker Rachel who regularly burst into song during casual conversation.

You saw the dog again as you took the same path the next day when your group took a mid-morning break. This time, he walked alongside your path, keeping his distance off to the side, but only kept pace with you for about five minutes before wandering off.

You were hopeful to see him when you headed out in the afternoon.

But instead of the dog, you encountered a man in almost the same area, approaching you on the path.

The man was dressed in sturdy hiking boots, dark jeans, a dark green flannel over a white shirt, and a tan jacket over that. He was tall, well-built, with short brown hair, and entirely too handsome a person to encounter in real life, especially with his devastatingly blue eyes – eyes that were the same color as the dog.

You groaned internally for comparing his eyes to the dog’s.

“Hello,” he said, nodding at you a few paces before you were about to pass each other.

“Hello,” you managed to return – it was mostly automatic, but the intensity of his gaze almost prevented you from the customary politeness of fellow trailwalkers.

After he passed, you shook your head. No need to be flustered by the momentary passing of a stranger.

You looked back over your shoulder, and then your heart thudded to discover that he was looking back at you, too. He smirked, turned, and kept along his way.

You shook your head at yourself and then kept on your way.

The walking path through the forest was narrow in parts, wider in others, and rambled on for a mile or so before it split, allowing its travelers to eventually circle clockwise or counter-clockwise around a still, blue body of water that was bigger than a pond but not quite large enough to be classified as a lake. The trees ran right down to the water in many areas, and the path, as it circled, sometimes came very close to its edges, and in other places only came within ten or fifteen meters of the shore.

On day three, you saw the man in the morning, and the dog in the afternoon.

The man, the same you saw before, came towards you after he'd done a circle around the lake. You reached the two forks before having to directly pass him, to which he waved and said hello, the same casual niceties.

In the afternoon, the dog approached you slowly but directly, and you knelt happily and held out your hand to encourage him to close the gap. He did, and after a quick sniff, let you pet him and scratch his ears.

“No collar?” you asked as you pet and admired his smooth, shiny coat.

After a minute, you stood and said, “You seem pretty familiar with this forest, well-fed, and so friendly. I don’t need to worry about you, do I?”

He circled you quickly, wagged his tail, and you laughed. “You want to join me for my walk this time?”

He trotted ahead a few steps, then looked back at you and waited.

You laughed. “I guess I’ll join you for this walk then.”

The two of you kept pace with each other all the way around the small lake, and then shortly after you got back to the main forest length, he trotted off the path into the forest again with only a small look back and a happy bark before bounding away.

That evening, because you had gone on so many walks, the rest of the group at the cabin decided to take an evening stroll around the lake. The planked wooden path made an adventure after dark doable enough. You didn’t see either of the strangers – dog or man – but there were a few times you had the keen sense you were being watched. In the dark it was impossible to tell, but the feeling came and went.

The next morning, you made your way down the deep forest path without encountering anyone and took the right fork to make your way around the lake.

At nearly the same place the dog had approached you the afternoon before, the man came striding your way from off the path.

“Hello,” he greeted as soon as he’d stepped out of the trees.

It was evident he intended to speak to you.

“Hello,” you said, trying to be friendly, but unsure how this would unfold, and a little nervous over engaging with the stranger.

Your heartbeat sped up the closer he got, but not because he was still a stranger, but because you were reminded he was altogether too handsome of a stranger. This was made even more obvious than your brief passings the previous two days, as now you could only stand still and watch as he approached you.

You remembered he was tall, but today he seemed taller. Those blue eyes had you rooted to the spot where you stood, and his face had a small but easy smile. You tried in vain to keep your heart from racing the closer he got.

“I’m Nick,” he offered, once he was close enough for conversation.

You gave your name in response.

“Nice to actually meet you,” he said as he stepped up onto the boardwalk. “You’re not from around here. Staying in one of the vacation cabins?” he guessed.

You nodded. “And you are from around here?” you surmised. “Do you live here? Work here? Both?”

“I suppose you could say both.” A calm but crips breeze swept through the trees around you, rustling through the leaves.

“Oh, are you the caretaker?”

“Guardian, caretaker, king of the forest,” he joked.

You laughed, and it was an easy laugh.

He echoed your laugh. “What, you don’t believe me?”

“No, of course, I do,” you said.

“If you let me join you, maybe I can prove my place here in the forest, share some of the history of the land, and some of my expert knowledge.” He raised his brow in a questioning look.

You were torn equally between hesitance and intrigue, but you were more unsure of how to decline, nor did you actually want to, so you nodded, and the corner of his mouth ticked up. He swept his arm to the side, gesturing at the path, and as you started walking, he fell right in step with you.

“So, what brought you to the forest?” he asked.

You explained how your boss had booked the large corporate retreat cabin for your team, planning many days of bonding and strategy conversations and leadership workshops with the consultant flown in from New York City.

As you walked together, he made good on his promise to tell you more about the forest and the lake. He pointed out some of the flora and fauna, showing his care and consideration for the wildlife and growth of the wilderness.

“It must be nice living out here.”

“You would like it.”

You looked over at him, finding he was already watching you, and then turned your head back to the path. “I think I might. Being out here the past few days has me contemplating quitting my job, selling off most of my stuff, and just finding a small cabin in the woods and writing or something.”

“You should.”His concentrated attention both unnerved you and put you at ease at the same time. It was a strange feeling. There was something within you that wanted more time with him like this, but it was silly to want. This was only your first conversation with him. You wouldn’t be spending day after day stumbling into walks with him any more than you would be abandoning your city life to embrace a secluded existence in a cabin in the forest.

But it might be nice, you thought.

“If only,” you finally sighed.

He was quiet for a moment. Then he cleared his throat. “When are you supposed to leave?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

He hummed in thought. “That seems like an awfully long cabin retreat for a team of colleagues.”

You laughed. “It certainly is. My boss has too much money and got very excited. It’s mostly a good office of people, and there are about ten of us here, but I definitely like my time away from the group – we’ve been encouraged to spend our breaks however we need.”

“And you took to your walks in the woods.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed and smiled softly. “Oh, actually, do you know about the black dog running around out here? I’ve seen him every other day, but not yet today.”

“He caught your heart, didn’t he?”

You grinned and nodded. “Does he have owners out here, or is he wild? He doesn’t have a collar.”

“No owners.”

“Not unlike you?”

“Oh, have I caught your heart, too?”

Your jaw dropped slightly, and you tried not to let your pace falter. “I–”

He gave a chuckle, but he also let his fingers brush against yours as you continued to walk side by side. “Don’t worry, if I didn’t want to see you, I would know how to go unnoticed by you in this forest.”

“Oh.” It was a small response, especially compared to the burst of warmth that bloomed in your heart, but you weren’t quite sure how to respond. You were flattered with the flirting and his insinuation that he did want to see you. A whisper in the back of your mind wondered how many years he must have walked these woods to know its secrets and be so confident that he could wander it undetected, but he gestured for you to listen to the faint call of a pair of birds nearby. He identified them as veery thrushes, and then you were carried along into learning about them and some of the other animals that inhabited this area of the forest during the rest of your short morning walk.

Nick came across you walking again in the afternoon. He told you more about the forest and its history, but more and more he started to ask more questions about you.

You liked that he asked about you.

It seemed impossible that this unbelievably tall (was he even taller than he was before? Surely he wasn’t), dark, handsome man was so keen on your company, but you couldn’t help but take to him, and to the warmth of the attention he shined on you like the sun that filtered through the leaves of the trees to bathe the rest of the flora in the forest.

It may have been silly to dream about him that night when you went to sleep, but you had no real control over that, and although this whole excursion was for work, a small, inconsequential crush on someone you would never see again when you went home was fine.

The next morning, you didn’t run into him during your walk, but you were happy to run into your furry companion again, and he stayed right at your side while you took the loop around the lake. You were only a little sad there was no sign of Nick, but even though he clearly spent a lot of time there, you couldn’t expect him to always be in the woods.

So, when you were just starting along the path for your walk and hear footsteps coming up behind you, you eagerly looked over your shoulder, only to see two men walking some twenty to thirty yards behind you. You sighed and kept walking. You hadn’t seen a great deal of people on the trail over the past few days, but these weren’t the first strangers, as it was an area with enough scattered cabins throughout the forest to merit the establishment of the sturdy planked path in the first place.

But as you continued on, the men seemed to keep pace with you, speeding up when you did, and slowing down and maintaining some of the distance when you tested it, and that made you nervous. You would feel better even just to see the wild dog so you could call him to you. You were sure he would deter the men. But there was no sign of him either.

As you approached the fork that created the lake loop for the path, you didn’t know which to hope for – that they would take the other path and you would have to potentially pass them, or take the same one as you and you could hope that they would keep their distance.

They went the same way as you.

And they started to close the distance.

You thought you were imagining it at first, but when you increased your pace, theirs quickened even more, and there was no more of the hum of talking between them.

You didn’t want to panic and run. They both had a height advantage with longer legs, and if you could simply continue to walk more quickly, you could at least stave off the need to run until there was no more choice – because you were sure the second you ran, they would follow suit, and you didn’t know how long you’d last.

Especially now that your heart was already racing.

“Hey sweet thing,” one of them called out.

You focused on keeping your quick pace and didn’t look back.

“Nice day for a walk,” the same gruff voice added.

Still you refused to engage. You expected this now and then in the city, but it wasn’t supposed to happen out here. You didn’t have a phone to suddenly get on and call someone or keys in your pocket to thread through your fingers for makeshift protection.

“Nice day for more than a walk, don’t you think?” the second man chimed in.

“Yeah, maybe a little afternoon delight.”

Your skin crawled.

“A little fucking,” the second one jeered.

Maybe you did need to run.

And then suddenly at a bend in the path, you turned and there he was.

Nick.

Your heart leapt in relief, and you rushed to him.

He had to have instantly seen the panic in your eyes as his own blue eyes changed immediately into a dark storm, and he looked beyond you as he quickly strode forward to meet you. He saw the men immediately as they, too, turned around the bend, and you heard their footsteps slow immediately.

Nick pulled you into his side, wrapping a protective arm around you.

“Afternoon,” one of the men said, both of them nodding, trying to pass off casual greetings as if they hadn’t been closing in on you, making their intentions clear.

“Turn around, pack up, and leave this forest,” Nick said, voice flat and threatening.

“Hey! Look, man,” the other started, but Nick cut him off.

“Turn around, pack up,” he repeated, enunciating each word with more fury, “never come back.”

They stopped walking, putting them only ten yards away.

“Now,” Nick growled.

A ripple of fear shot through you at his tone, and it wasn’t directed at you. There was a sudden groaning and crashing of trees in the distance that only added to the tension of the moment, and then the two men turned around and retreated.

“I know where you’re staying. Don’t make the mistake of thinking my directions are idle or that I won’t check to make sure you’re gone,” he spoke loudly enough for them to hear as they got further away.

With them no longer in sight, Nick turned his full attention to you, taking both your hands in his. “You alright?”

You took a deep breath in then let it out to release the tension from the fear-driven adrenaline and nodded.

He murmured your name, pressing in concern, ducking slightly to gaze directly into your eyes.

You smiled softly at his worry, the seeds that bloomed earlier in your heart coming to life and blooming a bit more. “I’m fine now,” you reassured him, giving his hands a gentle squeeze.

He narrowed his eyes.

“Really,” you promised. “Not the first intimidating creeps I’ve ever encountered.”

“Okay.” His face relaxed, but only a fraction, and you had the impression it was only to help ease your tension. “If you’re sure.”

You nodded.

He dropped your hands, and you reminded yourself not to let your face drop as he did.

“Sorry I didn’t meet up with you earlier, I-“

You cut him off, “I wasn’t expecting you to meet up with me, and I don’t always get to steal away for these walks at the same time.”

He nodded. “I know. But I want to show you why time got away from me.”

“Okay.”

His face split into a bright smile. “Follow me,” he said, turning around and trekking into the trees.

You trailed behind him as the ground gently sloped toward the lake. The trees and underbrush were abundant yet thin enough to allow the two of you to pass through. The wooden path varied in how close it was to the lake as it wound around, and here it was less than a minute before you could see the water’s edge. Nick abruptly stopped and put his arm out for you to also stop.

Since he’d been walking so quickly, you did bump right up against his arm with a small mumbled, “sorry,” and he turned his head to smile. Then he turned to look ahead and pointed to a cluster of rocks right at the shoreline.

You squinted to study them, and then you gasped when two little furry heads popped up over the top of the rocks.

“Otters!” you whispered.

“Yes,” Nick confirmed. “Freshwater river otters. I think we’ve got a clan of at least four that have only appeared today in the lake. Probably migrated down the river from the lake further up. They’ve been getting a bigger tourist draw up there, and I imagine they don’t want to be constantly disturbed by humans encroaching on their habitat.”

He took slow, measured, unassuming steps closer, and you tentatively followed. The two otters both perched up higher on the rocks, giving tiny yelps.

Nick motioned for you to kneel as he did. He held out his hand toward the pair of mammals.

“They’re a curious and friendly species,” he said, and even as he said the words, the two darted up and over the rocks, coming closer by a few feet before pausing. The slightly larger one gave a little trill and took a couple more hops forward. Its companion sauntered right up next to it, but then took a few more steps forward, bopped its nose against Nick’s hand, huffed and turned away, darting right down the bank and into the water, gliding smoothly away. The other came forward, gave Nick’s outstretched hand a little more of a sniff, then turned its head to you, and edged your way. You quickly but carefully stretched your hand out, received a couple of sniffs, and then this otter also snorted and trotted away and into the water, trilling as it slipped into the clear water.

“No fish, no interest,” Nick said, and the two of you laughed.

He moved to sit on the ground, and you sat next to him. The pair of otters re-emerged, swam up to shore, and dove back in and out of the water frequently as the two of you watched and talked.

You only stayed there for a short space of time, and then Nick seemed to sense without you needing to prompt him that it was time to get back to your walk. He stood and gave you a hand up. He held onto your fingers for just an extra moment, looking at your hands together, before letting go and brushing himself off. You did the same, and then fell into step with him, heading back to the path.

Easy conversation, just like the day before, continued to flow between you. He appeared to have endless questions about you, and again his rapt attention was its own warm, addictive rush, and that thing in your heart continued to grow, vines starting to sneak out of your heart and around your chest.

Suddenly he stopped, and you stopped another step ahead and turned to look back at him. “What is it?”

“We’re at the spot that leads up to the cabin your group is staying in,” he answered, a broad smirk on his face.

“Oh,” your cheeks heated, and you ducked your head to laugh. “Oops.”

You didn’t want your last walk with him to suddenly be over.

“You’re quite taken with all of this, aren’t you? The forest calls to you.”

You let out a wistful sigh and looked back up at him. Damn those impossibly deep blue eyes. You were overcome with a terrible ache that radiated from the base of your throat and the top of your chest, and you desperately tried to tamp down the thick emotion.

“But I have to go home tomorrow.”

“Come walk with me tonight.”

You bit your lip.

“Come on,” he urged you. “It’s your last night, and it’s a full moon. You have to see the forest bathed in the full moon's light. Come with me.”

“Yes,” you heard the word tumble out of your mouth, unable to deny him.

His eyes darkened and sparkled. “I promise you’ll see things you’ve never seen before.”

Though Nick wasn’t far from your thoughts, you focused well enough on your last evening with the group, engaging in dinner and the evening’s bonding activities. Wine and mocktails were poured for a final night looking up at the stars around a fire in the firepit on the balcony, and you made sure to enjoy that time, too. You had liked some of your coworkers before the retreat, but now you had a better understanding and appreciation for all of them.

However, once it got closer to ten, you anxiously started taking stock of the minutes passing away further into the night. Two of your group said goodnight at ten, but that was too early. You determined you would do well to stay with the balcony group until at least half-ten so you didn’t get too anxious about seeing Nick later.

At ten-thirty, a few more peeled off from the group, and so you retired to your room so that your timely departure didn’t seem unnatural to anyone.

You showered and messed with your hair for a bit but didn’t bother with makeup since it was after dark. You put on your favorite pair of joggers, a crewneck, and good walking shoes. You certainly hadn’t anticipated taking to the forest with so many walks each day, it wasn’t anything like how you were at home – busy with work and taking care of your life in the city – but it had been so natural to take to the outdoors while you were here. This final walk before your party went home in the morning wasn’t going to be like any of the others. You tried not to feel foolish for indulging in a walk at midnight with the hulking man with the most captivating blue eyes you’d ever seen who could easily take your breath away and whisk you off your feet.

But you had said yes because when else would you ever do something like this?

The answer was never.

And there was no harm in taking a handsome man up on his offer for a midnight stroll in the moonlight.

You put on the watch your grandmother had given you and the simple necklace you typically wore. They weren’t much, and you told yourself you didn’t need to dress up anyway, but they were small touches all the same.

Looking briefly in the mirror, you smoothed your hand down over the front of your shirt and took a deep breath. It’s fine, you thought. He’s seen you plenty before now, and it’s going to be dark, and it’s only a walk anyway. You checked your watch, and it was just a few minutes before eleven-thirty, which is when Nick had said to meet him.

You slipped quietly out of your room, down the stairs, and out the back door. The full moon was bright out here so far away from any city lights, illuminating the familiar path from the cabin that would take you down to the main boardwalk trail.

So many times Nick had simply appeared in the forest, but he was waiting for you right at the end of the path. Your heart raced just a little as his lips turned up in a smile.

“Hey,” you said softly.

“You came.”

He studied your face intently. You were unsure what he was looking for and simply focused on returning your gaze as unassuming as possible, telling your heart to settle and stop beating so fast. Yes, he made you feel things, but one of those things over the past few days had also been a sense of calm and safety in his presence, and you concentrated on that.

After another moment, finally, you responded with a simple, “I said I would.”

The corners of his mouth turned up. “Then let’s go.”

You fell easily into step with him, the trail so familiar now, though it had been less than a week, and knowing this ramble down to the lake and back, your chest started to feel thick in anticipation of missing it already. As you walked and talked, you thought you were keeping pace with Nick, but maybe you were more tired than you thought because it seemed like you were working to stay in stride with him as you hadn’t had to before. Either that or his legs were longer than before, but that – of course – was an impossible thought.

You shook your head.

Nick paused and turned. “What are you shaking your head at?” he asked. “I’ve lost you, haven’t I?” His tone was soft and teasing.

“Sorry, I got distracted, and my imagination got a little carried away with impossibilities.”

He cocked his head slightly. “Maybe more is possible in this forest than you might think.” His eyes danced with a hint of mystery.

“Is that so?” You played into his mischief.

He leaned closer. “This is an old forest, and it’s a full moon. Anything could happen on a night like tonight.”

Your body seemed drawn into him, leaning closer as well. “Anything?”

“Anything,” he whispered, and his eyes flicked down to your lips.

The moment hung between you. You tilted your head up, and your eyes fluttered closed. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your face.

And then he tugged on your hand, yanking you out of the moment. “Come on, pretty girl, we’re almost there.”

You sighed, letting out the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

But with how tightly his hand held yours as he led you off the boardwalk and into the trees, you didn’t feel too disappointed.

He was quiet now, but he also kept you close as he led you through this part of the forest. The trees were more thickly woven together here, with girthier trunks, and you couldn’t help but feel how they were older the further you wandered in. There was no trace of a path now, but Nick kept a confident pace, clearly knowing each inch of the forest intimately, and his surety allowed you to let yourself be swept away further and further along.

His steps were swift but nearly silent, and you tried to walk as quietly as possible. The sounds of the forest at night were soft but present – soft wind whistling through the trees, the song of nocturnal birds, and the chirping of crickets. The light filtering through the branches was minimal, and it had to be tricking you because you knew he was tall, but it felt like he was somehow taller tonight. It had to be the nature of how you were keeping so close just behind him, focused on the square of his shoulder and the gentle pull of his arm leading you.

He wasn’t taller now than he was earlier today, was he?

“Just up ahead,” he said, looking back over his shoulder at you, one of the easy smiles that made your heart sigh painted on his face.

His pace quickened, and your anticipation built as you hurried to keep up.

Seconds before the tree line broke, you heard the rippling sounds of water before emerging into a glade. Nick stopped a few steps into the clearing, and you came to stand right next to him. The first thing to draw your eye was a stream running into a small pool. The meadow on the side of the stream where you stood sloped gently down to the water, and it was covered in blankets of wood anemone, reaching right down to the bank and springing up and sprawling away again on the other side. The trees surrounding the glade were certainly some of the tallest you’d seen in the forest, and they rose as giant sentinels toward the inky black sky, which was studded with stars around the bright full moon.

As you looked up and around, the coupling of the simplicity and the majesty of it all had you enraptured, and you let out a soft sigh of contentment.

Nick brought your hand up to his face, pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, and your heart stuttered in your chest. You turned to look at him. His eyes almost appeared to glow an even brighter blue.

“I said it earlier, but this forest calls to you, doesn’t it?”

Your brows furrowed.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

You did.

He dropped your hand, and you let it fall to your side.

“Take a deep breath,” he whispered.

You inhaled slowly, letting the breath fill your belly and lungs, fresh, clean, and calm. You tipped your head back, your face craving the moonlight in that moment.

Although you didn’t hear him move, suddenly you felt the warmth of Nick standing behind you. “Now, listen and feel,” he murmured softly in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. You shivered but remained rooted to the spot. His fingers brushed along the backs of your hands and began to trail slowly up your arms. Your whole body was humming at his touch.

He pressed one soft kiss to your neck, and you sighed and let your neck fall to the side. When his hands landed on your shoulders, he pressed another soft kiss at the bottom of your neck, then turned you to face him.

“You should stay with me.”

Before you could respond, he took your head in both his hands, cradling your jaw. He searched your eyes for any hesitancy, but you knew you couldn’t summon any, nor did you want to. Instead, you pushed up on your toes, seeking his lips, and he met you halfway, claiming your lips with his.

Your hands came up to clutch at his wrists as he held your face, and you leaned in, longing to feel your body close to his. His tongue teased at the seam of your mouth, and you let him in, allowing the kiss to deepen, to sear into your very soul. His left hand moved, quickly coming to press at the small of your back, drawing you flush against him. One of your arms wound around his broad chest, and the other came up to mirror how he was cupping your cheek, feeling the trace of stubble along his jaw with your fingers. You stroked his tongue with yours, moaning into the kiss, and he reciprocated stroke for stroke. You quickly became so consumed by his kiss, feeling lightheaded but not sure if it was him or a lack of air, because you couldn’t tell if you were still breathing. It was a fevered kiss driven by something you’d never felt so strongly before, and you needed more.

Nick sank to his knees, and you went naturally down with him. He sat back on his heels, and you followed, perching in his lap. He held you there, your core over his groin, for a delicious moment, and then suddenly he lifted you up and laid you softly but swiftly onto the soft flowery bed of the meadow, his lips never leaving yours. You gasped and giggled against his mouth.

“What a lovely sound,” he said tenderly. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, a satisfied grin on his face.

Whether it was smug or sweet, you weren’t sure, and you felt your cheeks growing warm under his hungry gaze and his soft praise.

“I wonder what other lovely sounds I can draw from you,” he added as both of his hands moved to your hips. He began kissing you again, having only given you a moment of reprieve, then his hands slid slowly up your waist, skimming up over your ribs, pushing up the fabric of your sweatshirt. When his thumbs brushed up against the underswell of your breasts, he pressed back and forth a few times, teasing you, drawing a little whimper, before he let his thumbs run up and over your nipples. They were both peaked, and you shivered in pleasure, the teasing through the fabric of your bra its own unique sensation, but you were eager for more, so you moved your hands to begin quickly unbuttoning his flannel. He took the hint, helping you by shrugging off his jacket, and when he leaned up for a moment to pull off his flannel and remove the t-shirt he had on beneath it, so you shifted beneath him to pull off your sweatshirt and reach for the clasp of your bra, tossing that to the side as well.

You hadn’t hesitated to rid yourself of your clothes, but you were hit with the rush of baring your chest to him now as – with his own clothing discarded – he froze and looked down at you from above. You flushed with heat, but as you moved one hand to tentatively cover yourself, he grabbed it in his, drew it up to his mouth, and kissed your palm.

You were aware of every imperfection as his eyes roved over your body, but when he looked into your eyes and said, “gorgeous,” his face was so serious, so hungry, you didn’t question that he meant it.

He lowered himself back down over you, supporting himself by planting one forearm on the ground next to your side, and this time his lips sought your chest. He kissed down your sternum, then took one breast in his mouth, and palmed the other with his free hand. You moaned as he sucked one nipple and rolled and teased the other with his fingers. You arched beneath him, your body responsive to his diligent ministrations. He switched to the other breast, flicking his tongue over the nipple before lapping and sucking at it. You hadn’t cum before from nipple play alone, but he had you wondering if you might as the pleasure mounted.

You trembled and whimpered beneath him, and as you began to writhe more desperately, he took his mouth off your breast with an audible pop. He moved back up your body, and his hand cupped your face again, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek, urging you to open your eyes and look at him.

“Tell me you never thought about it, about staying here with me after I left you earlier today,” he said.

You were already breathless, or else the powerful drive in his deep blue eyes would have stolen your breath once again.

“You must let me have you,” he implored.

You couldn’t answer, but only because you were overcome by the desire in his eyes. For you.

Your name fell from his lips, and his voice was soft, deep, and controlled, but you could still feel the edge of the desperate plea as he uttered your name.

“Yes,” you keened, and you rocked your hips up against his.

“Say the words,” he said. “Say my name and tell me I can have you.”

He slipped his hand down, hooked two fingers into your waistband, and pulled teasingly along the edge from your hip to just below your navel. The torturous movement along your soft skin only drove the hunger that was building for more.

He had to know how he was mounting and playing with the anticipation. But if he needed you to say it, you’d say anything to get what you wanted right now under the light of the full moon from this inimitable figure of a man, nearly unreal in his beauty.

“Nick, you can have me!” You cried.

He wasted no time in pulling your trousers and underwear down in one go. You tried to kick off your shoes, but slightly struggling to do so, his hands helped remove your shoes and socks more deftly, and he was able to more easily toss it all away. And as your legs settled back down on either side of him as he knelt above you, you realized he was suddenly somehow as naked as you – though you didn’t know how he managed that so quickly, so quickly it felt like magic. Everything about tonight felt illusory, and yet it was all tangible and indisputable, and you gave yourself over to it. When else would you ever find yourself in such an enchanted set of circumstances like this ever again?

So what if it felt like a dream?

You took a deep breath and let your fingers tangle in the grass and the stems of the wood anemone. Your eyes traveled up his thighs to a cock so thick and long and hard for you, then up further, over his hips, defined abs, chiseled chest, and broad shoulders, and you whined. Every inch of him ignited heat through your body, and when your eyes met his again, your pulse stuttered.

You could dream like this for one night.

Keeping his eyes locked on yours, Nick settled back on his haunches and pulled your thighs up over his, drawing you up over him, angling your lower half up as an offering, and his piercing cerulean gaze moved to your core, fully on display. His fingers brushed over your lower stomach, the touch so light it tickled, and you jerked, but his other hand held your hip firmly in place. His fingers parted your folds without hesitation, and he licked his lips.

“Such a pretty, wet cunt, my little nymph,” he said, and you felt both shy being so exposed to him, and desperate for him.

“Nymph?” you couldn’t help but question, surprised by the pet name.

“Mhmm,” Nick hummed. He traced your wet folds with one finger, in no rush. “You belong to this forest.” He spread your wetness along those lips with the attention of an artist to his canvas. Then he slipped two fingers inside your cunt.

You gasped, and your eyes fluttered closed.

He pushed them all the way in, then gave a few slow, shallow thrusts in and out.

You never wanted to wake up from this, but you needed more.

“Nick, please!”

He withdrew his fingers and then pressed them to your lips. “Taste your sweet nectar, nymph.”

The digits easily slipped into your mouth, and the urge to suck was a near primal reaction. He applied gentle pressure on your tongue as you sucked, and it only drove the craving in your core further. You were entirely lucid, and yet you felt thoroughly intoxicated by him, by everything around you.

“Open your eyes,” he said, and you did.

You swore he could see into your soul when he looked at you so intensely, but rather than fear, it soothed your nerves. It also more deeply stoked your desire for him, and as much as you wanted to linger in this moment, there was an undeniable pull you couldn’t ignore.

“Kiss me,” you breathed.

He shifted to lean down over you, remaining rooted between your thighs but shifting forward so you were nearly chest to chest. He bore his weight on his forearms, caging you in. As he settled, lips only a breath away from you, you felt the weight of his large, thick cock rest on your stomach. You lifted your head to pull him into the kiss you wanted. You ached for him to fill you up, but you also wanted to give everything just to this kiss for a few beats longer.

It was like he was drinking you in. One of your arms came up around his back, the other brushed up along the side of his arm, seeking and ultimately finding his hand, and your fingers instinctively entwined together.

He moved his other hand down briefly to guide the head of his cock to your weeping hole, and you gave a little moan into his mouth as his head entered you.

As he seated his cock fully inside of you, the tip nudging your cervix, you had to break off your kiss to concentrate on breathing. Nick dropped his forehead to yours, seemingly unable to refuse some form of intimate closeness as he rocked into you again. “You can feel it,” he spoke, the warmth of his breath still close to your mouth.

“Yes,” you panted. Your legs wrapped around his torso. He resumed thrusting, slow, deep thrusts.

“I can feel it, too,” he murmured along your jaw. “You’re answering the call of the forest.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, hardly focused on what he was saying, but the deep warmth of his voice made the words swell through your mind.

He continued his unhurried thrusts, almost methodical in nature, and after a few more minutes, his cock began to swell inside you. And it continued to grow.

You moaned – or groaned – you couldn’t decipher if what you were feeling was real and whether it was painful or pure ecstasy. Your hand clasped his more tightly, and his answering squeeze was accompanied by tendrils of vines sprouting and circling around your hand and down around your wrist.

“What?” Your eyes flew open, and then you gasped. “Nick!”

He was transforming before your eyes. His face remained familiar, but a crown of horns appeared around his head, and emerald moss and glossy leaves intermingled and sprouted throughout his dark hair. Two enormous, magnificent antlers had emerged from his temple and were still slowly growing, just as he was still slowly growing inside you as he continued his steady thrusts. His shoulders broadened, and you knew he was growing in stature.

You trembled beneath him, tears springing to your eyes, in danger of spilling over.

“I told you, my little nymph: I’m the king and guardian of this forest – it speaks to me like it wants to speak to you. You’re answering the call, and I can’t,” he paused to groan, and with a shiver, you felt the ridge of his spine shift from skin to a supple tree bark. “It’s midnight, and with you giving yourself to me and the forest, I can’t hold back my true form.”

He began to thrust more quickly in and out of your cunt, a few of the strokes a little erratic. You whimpered, overwhelmed, and a few tears spilled over your cheeks.

“No, none of that,” he scolded, but kissed away the tears. “You didn’t want to leave, and now you don’t have to, nor can you.”

His free hand moved between you and found your pulsing, puffy clit, applying immediate, furious little circles that refused to let you feel anything but pleasure in response to his ministrations. His lips reclaimed yours once again, and as your body continued to tremble, his thrusts sped up even more, your channel never more full, making the mounting wave of pain and pleasure so exquisite as the waves grew that you let out a sob as your orgasm crashed over you.

Unrelenting, as your cunt contracted around him, Nick more demandingly sought his own release. He moved both hands to grip your ribs below your wrists and railed into you with abandon, punching the air from your lungs over and over, and ultimately pushing you into a rushed second orgasm only seconds before he roared his own ecstasy, his hips stuttering as he spilled deep loads of his seed inside of you, a warmth you could feel permeating you.

And then Nick petted your face, showering kisses softly over your lips, cheeks, and eyelids before ultimately resting his forehead on yours, and gently caressing your neck.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you, for this, and now you're mine forever.”

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

If you enjoyed this at all, read the other two fics from the Enchanted Birthday Fest! They're both exquisite!

#nick fowler #sebastian stan #nick fowler smut #teratophillia #terato #female reader #nick fowler x female reader #tw: dubcon #sebastian stan smut #aspen wrote something #aspensenchantedbday

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eleanore-delphinium · 5 months

Text

For Sauce Weekend: Day 3: "Put This On For Me"

This idea isn’t mine completely, this came from a book in goodnovel (app) titled ‘ Yearning for Her Return’. And it bothered me so this is me amending it to make it make sense.

Also, The Life of A Vampire & A Witch in the Woods, was supposed to be a halloween special. I forgot to say it there and it has bothered me for days.

And A03 link for this fic if you read there (my ff.net is fucked my stats always shows 0 for 3 months now.)

Disclaimer: Modern AU, again not really smut more on domestic fluff. CEO Dami, MATURE.

For Sauce Weekend: Day 3: "Put This On For Me"

Word Count: 10 310 (ish)

~.~.~.~.~.~

"Put This On For Me"

Damian Wayne and Rachel ‘Raven’ Roth were arranged to be married and on the evening of their wedding, Raven was shipped out of Gotham like some unwanted child after a divorce. She didn’t even get to have her long-awaited wedding night, not that she was actually anticipating it.

People had told her such wonderful things about the wedding night, all the bells and whistles you could ever think of. But she was aware that her wedding was nothing but a show and that expecting all those promises was foolish.

She knew they only told her that to comfort her.

It’s been three months since her wedding and she never saw or heard from her husband. But it didn’t matter, she had other things to worry about, like finishing up her university and getting her degree in Metropolis.

She returned to her apartment rather early in the morning, having not slept there because she was out doing a project. When she opened the door, she wasn’t really paying attention as she was tired and closed the door the moment, she opened it. Her back turned to the living room instantly. She leaned against the door as she locked it, sighing aloud.

“You should pay more attention to your surroundings.” A male voice came from behind her and she yelped, jumping to the door and hitting her head on the wood.

“God, and I married you?” The voice said and Raven turned to the voice and she gasped taking a step back, her back now pressed on the wooden door.

She’d recognize that face anywhere. Even though she had only seen him once. On their wedding ceremony.

He wore a black suit and a dark green dress shirt underneath. It matched his eyes well. He was the most handsome man Raven had ever had the honor to meet if she'd be honest. His green eyes that were locked on her were nothing less than intoxicating. Or maybe it was his effect on her. He was just that handsome.

“How- how did you get in here?” She asked, trying to breathe normally.

“I’m your husband.” He just answered back and she frowned.

“I should talk to my landlord.” She mumbled under her breath.

“I will deal with that for you, dear wife, but first we have other pressing matters to deal with.” He approached her and she watched him come closer to her.

She nervously gulped, “Like what?”

“Like the fact that you ran off right after our wedding?” There was an edge to his voice and it annoyed Raven.

She frowned and the annoyance became anger, “You were the one who sent me away!”

Damian froze and she watched his jaw tighten and his gaze turned even colder, “What?”

Raven wasn’t dumb, she could see it in his body language that he didn’t send her away. Then he continued making his way to her, she was shaking in her spot against the door. She didn’t know him on a personal level, so being afraid was quite natural.

“How about you changing your number?” He asked, putting a hand beside her head, pinning her to the wall.

She got even angrier, “What are you talking about?” She glared at him then placed both her hands on his chest, pushing him harshly, “You blocked me!” But he didn’t even budge and her hands on his firm chest felt like they were burning.

His chest was really hard underneath all the layers of clothes.

Damian’s face softened a little but not significant enough, even so, she noted how his brows looked less close to one another. His other hand that wasn’t near her head, rummaged inside his blazer pocket and she couldn’t help but look down. He took out his phone and then showed her the screen.

She pulled her head away a bit and blinked as she looked down at the screen. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the light.

After a few seconds he said, “Isn’t this your number?”

Raven frowned and then nodded.

“Then press the call button for me.” He stated as she looked up at him, looking like she wanted to say no but still did what was asked.

“Sorry, the number you have dialed is out of service.” She looked genuinely shocked hearing the robotic voice of a woman tell her that her number is out of service.

For a moment, the anger subsided, “I never changed my number…” She mumbled to which he raised a brow at her.

Then she tried to push him away again, “But you blocked me!” She countered recalling how many times she tried to reach out to him. And to prove a point, she pulled out her phone and did the same thing he did.

“This is your number, right?” She showed him his phone number on her phone and he nodded. She quickly dialed it and they got the same robotic voice.

Her husband’s angular jaw seemed sharper as he clenched his teeth. “Looks like someone is playing tricks on us.”

Raven pressed her lips, she had nothing to say, and had no idea who would go to such lengths.

“Well, now that that mystery is solved– What are you doing here?” She asked carefully and he studied her.

He smiled, a quite enchanting smile if she may add, “Well, I didn’t get to have my honeymoon.”

Her body stiffened then the words sunk it, “You sent me away!”

“I didn’t.” His smile and gaze were alluring and distracting her.

The next thing she knew, his hands were on her waist as he took one step and now his face was just a breath away. One of his hands caressed her spine.

“I didn’t block you nor did I send you away.” He inhaled deeply. “We were robbed of our own wedding night. As a responsible husband, it seems like I owe you a lot due to your grievances. That includes our first night as a couple.” He whispered and she swallowed her saliva.

Raven only realized now how deep his voice was and how dangerously close he was. His mouth was hovering over hers and, to be honest, she was anticipating the kiss. His eyes locked on her lips and she didn’t notice it but she had licked her dry lips, making the corners of his lips twitch.

The next moment his lips were on hers and the couple continued to explore each other’s mouths.

Eventually, he pulled away, “Tell me where the bedroom is or I am having you on this damn floor.”

She swallowed and raised an arm while her eyes fluttered, pointing at a door almost directly across the entrance.

He nodded and smiled at her then lifted her up by the waist. Her eyes widened as he pulled her to him and she naturally wrapped her legs around his waist. He carried her with ease while also groping her ass.

Raven felt embarrassed but they were married.

“I’ve been waiting for this since our wedding ceremony, you can imagine my disappointment when I heard you just left.” There was a tinge of anger in his voice and yet, she just felt even more embarrassed by what he said.

He looked forward to fucking her?

The nervousness couldn’t be controlled, not with his implications.

The next thing she knew, she was placed gently on her bed that had white sheets and he lightly lifted her chin, “I will rectify this issue and I will treat you well, but I expect the same from you.”

She didn’t even know why, she just nodded.

He kissed her neck, “I mean I don’t want you cheating on me, wife.”

Raven snapped out of whatever trance he induced in her. She poked his shoulder harshly, “Shouldn’t I say that to you?”

He lifted his head from her neck and raised a brow at her, “And why is that?”

She frowned, “Business meetings? Women and half their tits out bouncing to get your attention?”

He chuckled casually, “I don’t think that is a business meeting, beloved.”

She choked, oh how easy it was for him to pull out a pet name for her out of thin air.

He stroked her jaw, “Don’t you think it suits you? Beloved?”

She couldn’t answer, she couldn’t even look at him. But she felt that her face was crimson red.

“We will discuss other details later, for now,” His hands found their way under her shirt and to her slim waist. “Let’s have our long-awaited wedding night.”

He was overbearing. She knew this the moment she met him. And as he tossed and turned her for hours, all she could think about was how right she was.

He was so overbearing.

He did make her feel good though. And tired.

Raven sighed as she woke, she remembered that she had a class. She tried to get out but strong arms wrapped around her.

“Where are you going?” He sounded displeased and even though her mind told her to obey, even though she was sore, she knew she had a class. So, she fought through her desire to comply with whatever he would demand of her.

“I have a class.” She mumbled trying not to shy away from his presence. She was her own person before she met him.

The strong arms that she was wrapped around with were starting to feel familiar to her and he easily pulled her back to his chest. He twisted a little, trapping her between his body weight and the bed.

“Skip it.” He just mumbled back, lips finding her neck.

“I have never skipped a class in my life.” She struggled to escape his stronghold as she spoke.

“Well, there is always a first.” He answered back and she sighed loudly. “Your husband came all the way here to Metropolis to see you. We’ve been apart for long enough. You can afford to skip a class.”

She pinched his arm hoping he would let her go, but he didn’t even flinch.

“We didn’t get the chance to get to know each other. Why don’t we take this fine opportunity, dear beloved wife?” He whispered into her ear and she stiffened. She felt him angle her body so that her butt touched his growing erection.

She gulped, “You seem to like giving me a lot of pet names.” She tried to focus on other things and refused to move an inch, but he had other plans.

He pressed himself against her supple ass, rendering her nonmovement useless, “I think ‘beloved’ suits you the most, but I have to get used to the idea of having a wife. With that said, you should call me husband so the idea doesn’t get forgotten, don’t you agree, beloved wife?” He blew against her ear.

Raven’s eyes were swimming, she couldn’t focus, not with the goliath poking at her butt.

“Wife?” He sang grinding against her with one stroke of his hips and she gasped and gripped the sheets. She couldn’t see how his lips curled up cunningly.

He really was overbearing. And she was married to him.

When he was done with prying and probing every inch of her body, yet again, he studied the woman before him. She was laying on her back on the bed, her legs spread before him forming an M, her chest rose and fell carefully with eyes glazed and lips ajar. He was kneeling in front of her between her open legs.

His hand traced her collarbone then went down between her breasts and pressed her lower abdomen as he watched his cum slip out of her slit. A soft moan came out from her lips.

Then his eyes suddenly lit up, not with desire but a sharpness that could not be identified as a good or bad sign.

“Are you on birth control?” The question from his lips made Raven wake up from her trance. She propped herself up quickly with wide eyes.

She gasped, “Oh my god! No!”

The sharpness in his gaze turned dark. “Do you not want children?” His jaws tightened but his companion did not notice this.

“Of course not!” She pulled away from his touch as she twisted and tried to get off the bed. “I have to finish university; I don’t want to be pregnant yet.”

Damian looked pleased with her answer, ‘yet’ was the word that calmed him, not that she noticed his distress. His hand wrapped around her ankle and she was suddenly pulled back to the bed, putting her in the same position she was previously laying.

She looked at him confusedly.

“I will have someone buy you some pills, so don’t worry about it.” He simply stated and all she could do was study him. “But I would like you to decide on what kind of birth control you would prefer in the long run.”

“Okay.” She quietly answered, she didn’t know why but it felt like he was talking to her like a business partner. Although to be fair, their marriage is business for their families.

He leaned down to her, “I don’t mind you getting pregnant, after all, you are my wife and there is nothing wrong with that. But since you want to focus on your studies, I will adhere to your wishes.”

With the way he looked at her, she was really convinced that this was merely business for him.

“Alright. I understand.” She repeated meekly.

Damian felt that she sounded like a schoolgirl being scolded by her teacher and he sighed. He then lifted her chin with his fingers.

“Raven,” He called her name and she looked up surprised, eyes locked onto his lips, “You are my wife, and I respect our union even if this marriage is arranged. I will treat you the way you deserve. Do not doubt that.”

She gulped nervously and nodded and he hovered over her body.

“I will deal with whoever tried to make us have this misunderstanding. You do not have to worry about anything. In the meantime, for now, we have to act as if we have not–” His finger swiped her crotch, putting stray liquid back in her, “finalized this marriage.” His green eyes were firm on her face.

He leaned back into her, his face just above hers, “I will honor this marriage and I hope you can do the same.”

She nodded and he frowned, tugging at her chin and tilting her head closer to his face, “I need words, beloved.”

“I will honor this marriage.” She answered quietly, chest rising from the tension he was causing.

He smiled and it took her breath away.

“Good.” He kissed her forehead. “I will have someone buy us new phones; we shall communicate through them as well as acquire your pills.” He pulled away as he got off the bed.

“It’s best we still keep our old phones and use the new ones to exclusively communicate with one another. We would need to make whoever is behind this plot think we haven’t made contact. And I came here in secret if you are wondering.” He explained as he picked up his phone. He could feel her eyes on him.

Was it bad that Raven kind of felt like she just made a deal with the devil?

Damian then got back onto the bed and pinned her down.

“Why did it sound like you don’t want my kids?” He suddenly asked, his sharp eyes studying her, “Other than school.”

“I’m a virgin.” She just answered instantly and he looked like he got punched.

He pulled away, the confusion on his face clear, “What?” His eyes studied her legs.

“What, looking for blood?” Her voice sounded on edge, “Men are always the same.”

She could feel his annoyance as he said, “It’s not like that.”

There was indeed an absence of blood and there was no complaining about pain. A common idea of how female virgins act when their virginity is taken from them.

He brought his lips against her ear, “You seemed to know what you were doing.” His tongue flickered on her ear.

She had placed a hand on his chest and his hand captured her fist. “It seems like you and I are very sexually compatible.” His teeth tugged at her reddened ear.

She couldn’t answer him, she didn’t know how to. There was a voice in the back of her head agreeing to his words.

And as if to prove their sexual compatibility he fucked her again. Oh and how he did her good.

“Fuck!” She swore, forcing herself to roll off of him after another round of his probing.

He groaned in disapproval. “Where are you going?” He asked her, his belly lying on the bed.

“I told you I had class.” She glared but struggled to get up. And she looked like she was about to cry, she was so sore. Who said having sex with their husband is magical? She pressed her lips as she sat up.

It was magically painful in ways she didn’t think that her body could possibly ache.

Damian honestly enjoyed seeing her struggle and seeing her bare breasts– among the general bareness of such a beautiful body.

“You know you don’t really need to go to classes physically. You can still get your degree while you're in Gotham.” He drawled, flipping over, not attempting to pull her back into bed which she was grateful for.

His words, not so much.

She glared at him as she stood up gasping with wide eyes and finding her balance, “I’m sorry we can’t be like you– graduating uni at age sixteen.” She hissed, “Oh my gosh.” She whispered leaning on her nightstand.

He shifted in the bed and she suddenly added as she turned away from him, “We can’t all have two degrees–”

“Three actually.” He cut her off and she turned to glare at him.

“Besides, I like seeing my classmates and teachers.” She added gently but the discomfort was clear in her face and in the way she moved or lack thereof.

“I didn't. Which was why I finished uni as fast as I could. Father, however, did not enjoy it and kept putting me to school.” He shrugged and pressed his lips when his wife’s face told him to shut up.

“I’m sorry for being dumb.” She muttered and he didn’t know how to respond.

“If you want to go to school, I won’t stop you. I advocate for education.” He propped himself up on the headboard, the blanket covering his lower regions.

He caught the surprise in her eyes and she nodded with a small happy smile.

“I will be right where you left me, wife.” He said with crossed arms, his eyes filled with joy from seeing his wife filled with marks he made.

And what a lovely piece of art he made indeed.

Raven absentmindedly nodded and made her way to a door at the side which he assumed was the bathroom. And indeed, it was the bathroom when he faintly heard the sound of water from a shower.

Once she was out of the bathroom, she shyly changed her clothes with an audience. She supposed she’d have to get used to it eventually. She changed her clothes with her towel still covering her up.

Raven was sore but she endured and had to cover up really well because of what her husband so graciously left on her entire body. She could feel that this relationship would not be easy or convenient.

Damian could tell she was having a hard time changing but she’ll get used to someone being in the same room. And he still enjoyed the little show. It was like peek-a-boo.

“I’ll go to school now.” She awkwardly said, her eyes trying not to look at him. His abdomen looked so goddamn nice. What the fuck!

“I’ll be right here, where you left me.” He smiled, giving her a little salute and wink.

Damian was really true to his words; he really was where she had left him by the time she returned home. He was on the bed shirtless and looking over papers.

She frowned at him, “Don’t you run a multi-million company?”

He glanced up from the paper he was holding, and she didn’t think he’d look even hotter with the eyeglasses he had on. For someone who was a virgin a few hours ago, was it bad that she could feel herself get wet at the sight?

She gulped down her desires as she anticipated his answer.

“That's what this is.” He raised the paper casually.

“Don’t you need to be there?” She tried to clear up.

He looked at her thoughtfully, she was still standing by her door. “I still haven't taken my honeymoon leave.” His eyes for the briefest second locked at a certain part of her body with the slightest hint of displeasure. But she had not noticed the very quick change.

She scrutinized his face and body language, was he serious?

He placed the papers on the side table, “I am all naked underneath waiting for your return, beloved wife.”

It took a moment, but Raven’s face turned crimson when his words sunk into her brain.

Again, he was true to his words, this was starting to feel like a honeymoon– the one filled with nothing but sex. She wasn’t even sure how she reached his side and how they got to grinding against one another’s naked bodies and moaning.

When he was done, and she calmed from her high with his body over hers on the bed. His hand slipped to one of her hands, caressing her knuckles. There was an absence of a ring on either of her hands.

Raven suddenly said, “I used to do gymnastics.”

He looked really taken aback, not understanding where this was coming from. Thankfully his mind was always sharp. He chuckled suddenly to which she frowned.

“Have you been thinking about that this entire time? While you were at school?” He asked after shaking his head. He glanced down at her and saw her serious face and he reeled in his laughter. “I believed you when you said you were a virgin. It doesn’t matter to me if you weren’t either. But now that we are married, again, I expect loyalty and faithfulness.”

“I don’t think I can handle being with another man with your libido.” She muttered, clearly not paying attention to her words and her eyes widened when she realized what she said aloud.

He laughed heartily, “Good.” He kissed her forehead.

She had to be honest, she thought he’d scold her. And then she felt his hand caressing her thigh. Ah, there it was.

Raven was sure she was being punished, but fuck was he doing it so gently and all she could do was moan into his hand. He thrust from behind her with a softness that seeped into her heart.

“I hope you kept some of those leotards, I think we can make good use of them.” He whispered hoarsely against her ear, still pounding at her. His hips hit her plump ass.

He couldn’t tell if the moans into his hand were out of agreement or just pleasure, he was more certain it was the latter, but he had to cover her mouth as she had become rather loud. He didn’t want the neighbors banging on her door.

When they were finished, he wrapped her in his arms and whispered to the exhausted woman, “Which reminds me, I got us our new phones–” He stopped, noticing that she was struggling to keep her eyes open. He kissed her forehead.

“Later then.” He mumbled, closing his eyes.

The fact that she lacked a ring did not escape his mind.

Raven’s husband had been staying with her for three days. And she had no choice but to miss some classes because of him. Much to her dismay.

And every time she went back home from her classes, he’d be propped up on the bed naked, a blanket over his legs while he read papers and with his eyeglasses on. But now it seemed that he had bought a laptop.

“Oh, I noticed you didn’t have a laptop and printer. They are yours, but as of now I am borrowing the laptop.” He nonchalantly said. She absentmindedly nodded.

Raven did need a laptop and printer for school so she was appreciative.

He didn’t look up from reading his report, “Oh, by the way, I talked to your landlord. I told him your contract is invalid.”

“What?” She glanced at him. She was making her way to her closet, used to having company now, and was planning to change. She had gotten used to his domineering personality too.

He glanced up to look at her and she studied his face trying to understand him.

It dawned on her and she replied with an edge on her voice, “Because I wrote Raven on the contract?” He frowned and she continued on, “You are making a big deal over that?”

He sighed, making her stop as she watched him take off his eyeglasses and placed it on the bed. She pressed her lips, the sight was so hot, that she couldn’t help but admit.

Raven tried not to avoid his gaze and tried to glare at him to focus that she was angry at him. The implications of an invalid contract were less than ideal.

“I don’t care if you write Rachel or Raven,” he said carefully and she looked very confused. “But you are a Wayne.”

He heard her gasp from where he was and she blinked.

“Would you rather resign the contract or move?” He asked and saw how she frowned when he suggested moving.

“I like my apartment.” She stated simply and he studied her room. He knew he could give her better.

He sighed aloud, it was clear to her that he didn’t like her answer. He reached out for a stack of paper that had a pen clipped on it as he offered it to her, “Here is the contract and sign in properly. I will give it to your landlord.”

Raven was surprised, she thought he would tell her to move. Her feet moved by themselves as she approached him and sat beside him as she took the papers from him. She signed Raven Wayne on the paper and gave it to him for checking.

She was nervous as she waited for his approval, head cast down. She didn’t even know why she was feeling like this or acting like this. She didn’t see how her husband’s lips twitched seeing her name.

“Alright.” He said and she looked up. She was still expecting him to tell her that she couldn’t stay here. From what she heard of Damian he was the excessive type. And with how he had been handling her in the short time they have been together, she can’t deny the statement.

“Oh, I have something for you.” He said and opened the drawer on the nightstand at his side. She tilted her head at him in confusion.

What else did he have for her?

Damian pulled out a black velvet box and her brows furrowed to show her confusion.

“I noticed you don’t wear your wedding ring.” He said and she stiffened and he opened the box. “I figure it’s too much for school.” He showed her the wedding set inside the box and her eyes twinkled.

“I had this made, I thought this was more to your taste.” He spoke as if they were talking about the weather.

It was a gold set of two thin band rings. One was a half eternity diamond ring and the other was a larger solitaire ring. This set was far smaller than the platinum set she got at their wedding. Being that the two-ring platinum set was filled with big diamonds stacked with another bigger diamond.

The design and appearance of the two sets were similar, an eternity ring with a solitaire diamond on one of the bands. But Raven thought the rings she got at her wedding were so gaudy she was embarrassed to be seen wearing them. And it would be too much for school as Damian pointed out. She was also certain she’d be robbed if she so casually walked around wearing the platinum set.

With Damian’s free hand stuck out, inviting her to put her hand atop his, he said, “This is just a mere placeholder for now. When I get to the bottom of who is trying to fuck with our relationship and when you are ready, we will go and have something made which fits both our preferences.”

Raven slipped her hand on top of his and watched him slide the two rings onto her finger and she was surprised by the perfect fit. Though, now that she thought about it, was there really something her husband couldn’t do?

“I was rather upset to see that you didn’t wear any kind of a ring as a placeholder to show that you are married.” He sighed putting her hand down and he reached out to his other hand playing with a ring on his ring finger that she didn’t even realize he had one on until now. “I always wear mine.”

His ring was three-toned, mostly black, but had gold and platinum on it. She would like to say it was simple, but with three colors on it, it clearly wasn’t.

“I’m sorry…” She couldn’t help but mumble, finding the new set on her finger with her other hand. “And thank you.”

He smiled thinly, eyes on her fingers brushing her wedding rings.

“Alright, when you figure things out we’ll go to a jeweler.” She mumbled and he nodded.

Just when she was about to stand up, he grabbed her wrist. And he pulled her to him.

“But now I must welcome my wife home.” He smirked as he watched her eyes widen.

Again. This man always gets what he wants. Though, he could have forced her hand and made her move, but he didn’t.

Maybe this time her spreading her legs for him was to show her silent gratitude that he didn’t force her hand and made her move. But maybe not, once his body touched hers it was like her skin was aflame. Memories of how good he fucks her would flash into her mind like a flash flood and she just can’t think straight.

And God, he really fucks her good.

They had finished yet another passionate moment and the two were cuddling in each other’s arms. Her head rested on his chest as she listened to his steady heartbeat. His hand caressed her arm.

“I think I know what I want for my long-term contraceptive.” She whispered, fingers playing with the curves of his abdomen muscles. For a second, she wondered if he really had a desk job as a CEO and all. How does he have time to work out?

“Oh? What is it?” He asked, breaking her chain of thought. He pulled away from her and shifted her in his arms so they could gaze at one another.

“I want an implant.” She stared at his eyes. She had thought about it. With his libido and her studies, this sounded… well sound. The best option so she didn’t have to think about taking contraceptive pills or injections on a regular basis.

She thought that he would say no, but he surprised her again, “Alright, I will arrange a hospital appointment for tomorrow.”

She thought he would say no, but she didn’t expect that he would set an appointment just like that.

Damian saw how his wife frowned and he kissed her forehead, “It is a good choice, beloved, I don’t mind you getting pregnant.” He squeezed her in his arms briefly. “I can take care of you and our child. But we have to pretend like we have not met since our wedding. I’m still looking into who is trying to screw our marriage up. It would be a problem if everyone believed you were fooling around with someone else and that's how you wound up pregnant.” He sighed into her hair.

He made a very reasonable explanation and she nodded her head that was against his firm chest.

Yet still, he didn’t argue with her. She was certain that he could have. He could get what he wanted by force. And yet, he didn’t.

His attitude was starting to become endearing for Raven, even his arrogance.

Damian has been staying in her apartment for almost a week now and every time she arrived home she wished and hoped he would have already left. At this point, it’s what she hoped for because his sexual libido was so high she believed she couldn’t handle it. But every time he made a move she couldn’t say no, like quite literally the word disappeared from her mind. And she winds up in various positions with him.

She was convinced that he was right about their sexual compatibility.

Again, she entered her bedroom to see Damian on the bed. The same way he always was when she got home. But it was clear that he was very upset over something as he read the paper in his hands.

Raven studied her room, she realized that their clothes from their latest rendezvous were still scattered on the floor. Only at this moment did she realize that he cleans up the bedroom by the time she comes back from school or even when she is in the shower, but he’d always be on the bed when she reenters her bedroom.

She picked up his boxers, “Put this on for me.” She tossed it on the bed.

It appeared that he didn’t even realize that she had returned. Whatever troubles he had, it appeared to be deep. But the moment she spoke, his face softened and he glanced at his boxers and scrunched up his face.

He clicked his tongue and she thought he would say no. But she knew better now, she should not approach the bed because he would have her on her back the second, she was in arms reach.

To her surprise, he reached for the boxers and heaved a sigh, likely a show that he didn’t like what she was asking. He got out of the bed and he was indeed naked underneath the sheets like always.

Raven quickly looked away; she still wasn’t sure how that fit in her.

“You act like you weren’t enjoying this just before you left.” He chided pulling his boxers on and her face turned red. She felt even more embarrassed.

“Can’t you learn to put on clothes?” She rebuked helplessly. He just chuckled at her response.

“I don’t have clothes here.” He innocently answered and she glared at him.

“I’ve seen your bodyguards or whatever the hell they are, I know you ask them to bring you boxers.” She crossed her arms as she looked at him. She was thankful he had bottoms on, but that well-toned body was still distracting. “You can ask them to bring you more than just boxers.”

He shrugs at her casually, “It’s not like I plan to leave any time soon.”

Raven’s eyes were starting to stray and so were her thoughts. She quickly turned around and cleared her throat, “I will make us dinner and I would like it if you are there with me.”

She didn’t try to argue with him as she knew it would be useless.

She didn’t need to ask him to join her, truth be told, normally he’d follow her around if she decided to cook or if she went out of the bedroom. But this was the first time that she asked him to go with her to the kitchen. She didn’t see it but there was a very happy smile on Damian’s lips.

“Alright.” He replied after clearing the smile off his face, sounding casual and whatever.

Raven didn’t take a peek at him because she knew she would swoon and if he laid his hand on her she’d jump him. She coughed to clear her throat and her naughty thoughts.

In the kitchen, Raven was cutting a carrot and he sat across the counter watching her in all his shirtless glory. His chest had claw marks from her, but at this point, she was way past being embarrassed. His choice of not wearing clothes for almost a week has trained her eyes and mind to the sight. Thankfully, he would wear his boxers when outside the bedroom, but other than that, he was virtually naked as he stayed in her apartment.

He had a strained smile on his face as he watched her.

“What is it?” She pouted, glancing at him.

“I genuinely enjoy your cooking and the fact that you enjoy cooking for me.” He emphasized each word and she frowned as she stopped chopping. “But I admit my palette is used to world-renowned chefs.”

Raven put down her knife, “So, you’re saying my cooking sucks?”

He approached her, placing a hand on the counter, and genuinely said, “No, your cooking is superb, beloved.” He smiled and she actually believed his sincerity. It felt like he was radiating truthfulness from his very pores.

Or maybe because the sex was so good, she couldn’t get mad at him. He literally just said her cooking sucks by implying he only eats from some classy chef. But they were married and already fucking so she has to endure his attitude, right? Fuck!

Raven was chewing on her lower lip and he placed a thumb against her lip making her stop.

“I am a picky eater; I won’t deny that. If it isn’t a chef I approve of, I don’t eat the dish.” He spoke.

She wanted to bite his thumb. And to think she had been cooking for him out of the goodness of her heart.

“It’s why I learned how to cook.” It felt like Damian had dropped a bomb on Raven. Her feet were unsteady.

“What?” She almost chuckled as she studied him, “You cook?” She raised a brow at him.

He smiled politely, “Yes and I truly love your cooking,” The sincerity in his eyes was something she could not deny. His hands found her waist. “But let me cook for you this time.”

Damian swiftly pulled her to him and their lips were so close to one another that she was expecting a kiss at the back of her mind. Raven gulped as her eyes locked on his mouth.

He turned themselves around, exchanging spots with his lovely wife. Then he pulled away quite easily from their contact.

“Alright?” He smiled at her and took a step back, reaching for the knife. “I can make do with these ingredients, but I will have my men buy better ingredients for you as always.”

Raven hummed a response, having no choice but to watch him. She went and sat down on the seat where he would always sit when he watched her cook. And damn it, she felt so fucking stupid.

Damian was cooking like he himself was some world-renowned chef! How the hell did he let her make him just sit and watch her cook?

She was utterly speechless and embarrassed. She must have looked like a buffoon.

When he was plating the dish he made, adding the last leaf on the plate he said, “Plating matters too, beloved.”

She wished she could make a snarky remark but the dish he put before her was so beautiful. With the same ingredients, she couldn’t possibly make such a beautiful dish.

Damian tilted his head when he placed the plate before her but she did not move.

“Le-let’s see how it tastes then!” She grabbed the plate and turned around from him. He could tell that she was embarrassed by how red her ears were, but he didn’t point it out.

“How is it?” He instead asked as he walked around the counter and slipped a hand on her lower back.

“Oh, God and I cooked for you?” She looked up at him with her back arched forward, eyes watery.

His Adam’s Apple bobbed at the sight. A similar image of how she looked right now overlapped in his mind, and it was a very very different kind of image, that of when he would confine her in her bedroom to have some fun.

He cleared his throat, “Sit up properly.” He gently told her and rubbed her back upward briefly. She instantly did what was told and he withdrew his hand from her back.

Raven was temptation incarnate for him. A seductress.

And what's worse is that she doesn't know how much she could ignite his desire for her with one flick of her wrist.

“I feel so embarrassed cooking for you.” She admitted in a soft voice and he was surprised.

“What? No.” He stood in front of her and pinned her by placing his hands on the counter that was behind her. “Your cooking is world-class.”

She pressed her lips as she looked up at him. God, his sincerity was intoxicating.

“I should know. I have expensive tastes.” He stated nonchalantly.

He watched her glance down at her plate with a soft smile.

The next thing she knew, her head was lifted up and they shared a kiss. A rather chaste kiss.

Maybe even the first chaste kiss since their wedding. Honestly, quite comparable to the chaste kiss at their wedding.

“I wish I could stay longer, beloved, but I am needed back in Gotham.” He confessed softly.

“Oh.” She grabbed her fork and tried to prepare a bite of the food he made. “Well, I can finally take a break from you.”

He wished he could get mad or laugh, but he felt neither emotion at her words. He did wish he could just be with her.

“Oh, don’t go celebrating yet.” He leaned to her, bringing his mouth near her ear. “When I return, you and I both know I will make you regret being happy that I’m leaving right now.”

Damian felt her body stiffen and he smirked. “But for now, let us enjoy our remaining time together.”

And they did. They enjoyed their time together, laughing a little. His hands strayed on her body but never did more. He had texted his men to bring him a fresh suit complete with all his accessories.

He showered in her bathroom and used her things. He smelled like her and it made her blush. He was adjusting the cuff of his white shirt from under his dark blue suit’s jacket cuff.

This was the third time she had seen him in a suit. He looked colder, yet still hot. He smelled of her and yet looked like the boss that he was.

Oh my God. She was gushing.

And so was her pussy.

“Oh, before I forget.” He looked up at her and she stared at him with wide eyes and a smile trying to think of anything but how he made her feel. “I will pay you back for the rent you paid on the apartment.”

She looked confusedly at him and was about to argue but he raised a hand and she pressed her lips shut.

“It’s my responsibility, and besides, I want to do it.” He looked at her as if he was inspecting a product for his company, at least that is what Raven felt like he was doing. He then pulled out his wallet and handed her two cards. “One is a credit card, buy whatever the hell you want, it doesn’t have a limit. The other is an ATM card. Your allowance from me will be deposited every month on the same date as our wedding day. I placed the money you paid for the rent of this apartment in there along with the allowance I owe you since you've been staying here since our wedding.”

She sucked in her lips and stared at the items he was holding out for her. She licked her lips and he patiently waited for her to accept it.

Raven wanted to reject it, but with one quiet glance at his calm face she knew he wouldn’t allow it. And the thing was, she was surprised that he even remembered their wedding day and was going to give her an allowance on the same date every month.

After a minute or two passed she nodded her head and sighed as she took a step forward and reached out for the cards. “Thank you…” She mumbled.

Damian was pleased that she took the cards and she could tell.

His hand reached out and cupped her face and she looked at him. He kissed the top of her head.

"Rachel Wayne." She mumbled reading the names on the cards.

"Rachel is your legal name. Unless you want to change it to Raven, in that case, tell me and I will have it arranged." Everything that came out of Damian's mouth was factual. It's just how he always talked.

"Wayne. I'm a Wayne." She muttered and he pressed his lips atop her ear.

"Yes, that's right." He whispered with a sigh.

FIN.

~.~.~.~.~.~

BONUS SCENE:

Damian and Raven's relationship was pretty good. She was still in Metropolis over a year later and he'd visit her often since they reunited.

"Augh, I hate this city," Damian said, glaring at the city by the ceiling to the floor window in their apartment.

Raven rolled her eyes, she had known him long enough, he was baiting her.

"You'd rather I finish uni in Gotham?" She asked, of course, she'd still bite.

He turned to look at her thoughtfully, "I suppose it's safer here." He answered as he always does when she asks him if she should go back to Gotham.

He placed her safety a priority, something she noticed fairly quickly since they started a relationship with one another.

She no longer lived in the apartment where they reunited after their wedding; due to the frequency of his visits her former apartment became too small. You’d think he’d respect her space, but somehow, he started taking up so much space in her apartment that she had no choice but to suggest moving.

Damian of course moved her to a high-rise with a great view and space that was way too big for just them. He had come by to help her move and had stayed ever since, helping her adjust and arrange their apartment.

She was convinced he purposely took up so much space in her previous apartment so she would move to a bigger ‘safer’ apartment that he of course chose and showed her just as fast as when she suggested moving.

It seemed planned is what she was saying. But still, he had wormed his way to her heart that she could not find a flaw to what he did, that is if he really did it.

"You always say you hate it here." She mumbled as she reached out for his waist with both arms and embraced him.

"It's bright." He answered, enjoying her warmth.

She never understood what he meant by that.

"Well, anyway," She pulled her head away and glanced up at him, "I have to go, I need to meet some classmates for a project."

He studied her and said, "Why don't I join you?"

She laughed, shaking her head, "Your face is rather well known, I wouldn't want my classmates to be intimidated by you."

She pulled away from his hold turning around.

"I can wear a hat and sunglasses." He followed her and she paused then turned to him.

"Hmm… Alright." She agreed with a soft smile on her lips.

"I won't be a bother." He promised.

And as always, he was true to his words. When he went to the bathroom and was about to return to her side, Damian heard her friend ask why her husband was wearing a beanie that covered his ears and dark sunglasses.

"Oh, he is sensitive about his hair and he got a terrible eye infection..." He frowned at her lie.

He stepped out from his hiding spot and kissed his wife, "Oh, what are you talking about, beloved?"

"Oh, you know, how best to do this paper," Raven answered calmly.

He just smiled. But the moment they got back home, he pinned her to the door and whispered hoarsely.

"So, I'm balding?" He asked as he pulled the beanie off his head and to the floor. His black thick and luscious hair shone against the light coming from their windows.

Quite the opposite of what she had just made her classmate believe.

Her eyes widened in realization and she pressed her lips as she reached out to remove his sunglasses. "And with an eye infection." She whispered back seriously, tossing the shades away too.

"I will have to punish you." He said, pressing her by the arch of her ass against his hips.

"I know, for being caught." She sighed, and she could feel his erection on her lower abdomen.

He chuckled, "Well, for lying." His tongue licked the curve of her ear.

When the punishment was done and she was sprawled on the bed, lying on her belly, he caressed her hair.

"I hope you don't lie often." He told her with a dark tone in his voice.

She understood his implications. With how the two grew closer even if it was just a glance she could tell what he wanted to convey to her. He was the same with her.

"I don't lie about being married." She whispered, and his face softened. The answer to the question that was never truly asked.

"Good." He scooched over to her side, his crotch pressed against the side of her hip as he littered her shoulder with kisses.

She sighed, closing her eyes, but also refusing to move. If she moved the thing pressed on her side would wake up instantly and she'd be done for. Not that she couldn't tell that it was starting to stir. But if she didn't move, her husband wouldn't either.

"Which reminds me," He pulled his head away from her shoulder and her skin was relieved of the pressure pressing on her thigh. He laid on his side and she turned her head towards him with curious eyes. "I'm transferring to Metropolis."

"What?" Raven propped herself up a little with her confusion clear in her face and voice. He never talked about this before.

He should feel some form of displeasure with her reaction. At least he thought he should because it would seem like she wasn't happy with the news. But he felt calm.

"With how frequently I visit it seems impractical to stay in Gotham." He explained gently and he watched her eyes widen as a soft blush appeared on her cheeks. Maybe this was why he didn't feel upset, he knew her like the back of his hand. Unconsciously he must have known that her confusion was not because she didn't want him here.

"I made plans with Father, and I will be stationed here for the time being as you finish uni. Thank God Wi-Fi exists, it will make this transfer seamless." He smiled at her and she cupped his face.

"You'll be here every day?" She whispered, brushing his cheek with her fingertips. The excitement on her face was clear.

"Yes." He whispered back, snuggling near her.

Then suddenly her eyes widened in fear, "Then you need to control yourself." She poked his shoulder and he chuckled.

At first, he was afraid that she didn't want him here but then understood why she was scared. The fear wasn’t unfounded.

"Oh, whatever do you mean." Damian blinked innocently.

"I'm serious, Dami, if you expect me to spread my legs every day– I'm moving." She stared at him and the smile on his lips was wiped off his face.

"Do not threaten me, beloved." He responded, darkness brewing in his aura.

"I'm serious. I have school." She did not back down. She knew him and she knew he almost always followed her lead no matter what.

He sighed aloud, and then again while he looked away and then one more time. "We'll arrange something."

Damian reached for his wife's waist and buried his face on the side of her shoulder. But she could tell he was pouting. He had actually stuck his lower lip but she couldn't see that.

His libido was really something even after a year he didn't show any signs of not being turned on by her. Though, to be honest, she was the same.

The moment he'd pin her down and the desire was clear in his eyes, she got so wet. It didn't matter if she was exhausted from school, she'd strip without him even asking.

She recalled what he told her so long ago, "We really are sexually compatible."

He looked up from her side with wide eyes gazing at her and his eyes sparkled as a smile bloom.

"I have to agree, beloved." His love for her is clear in those beautiful green eyes.

"We'll make it work; we always do."

Put This On Me: Graduation Gift

Raven had no regrets about the birth control that she chose. Sometimes she'd wake up the next day after their midnight sessions thinking that she forgot to take the pill.

Then she remembers that she has an implant.

Her burst of fear of an unexpected pregnancy always came after several rounds of fucking from her husband especially when he goes all out for a couple of days straight.

Currently, she was looking out at the city through their apartment window in their living room. When she woke up this morning she had a little burst of fear, yet again. Which was why she was thinking about her birth control.

They've been together for almost four years but gosh was he built differently.

Strong arms wrapped around her body from behind.

"You're graduating soon." He mumbled against her shoulder and she leaned back to him.

"In a few months." She reminded him.

One of his hands was now on one of her shoulders and the other snaking down to her lower abdomen. "What do you think of a baby for your graduation gift?"

She froze. She knew there was a reason for her unreasonable pregnancy scare. She swatted his hands and stepped away from him. "Not yet."

He sighed and studied her back.

"I want to work first." She turned to look at him.

"You can work for me." He answered immediately and she rolled her eyes. Her eyes locked at his dress shirt collar and she took a step closer and fixed his collar for him.

"If you had your way, you would just have me on your desk panting and moaning, I'm sure." She clicked her tongue and noticed how he bit his bottom lip lustfully and she shook her head but still smoothened his shirt of invisible wrinkles. He had strong pecs.

One of his hands slipped onto her upper spine and slid down to her lower waist pulling her closer to him and she gasped, "Well, then what would my beloved wife want for her graduation gift?"

His eyes looked down at her softly.

"Hmm, I don't know." She admitted.

"Really a no to having a baby?" He asked again with a boyish smile. She giggled at him.

"Hmm, I will have to think about that." Her hand reached out for his black tie, then suddenly tugged at it bringing his face closer to her, "But while I do, you can use it for some sexy dirty talk." She licked her lips.

"Well, don't mind if I do…" He leaned down and captured her lips.

"Doesn't the thought of you pregnant as you get your hard-earned diploma hot, beloved?" He whispered to her kissing her neck and she smiled. She didn't mean for him to do it at this very instant, but God was this man insatiable. "Or maybe– imagine, you accepting your diploma with my cum tightly clenched inside you? Considering how often you are taking in my cock in your tight pussy.”

She choked at the visuals he was painting for her. She felt his teeth tug at her ear as he continued on, “How many times did you fuck me before going to school? Or how many times you went to your classes with my fresh cum still in that naughty pussy? Or when your first meal is my dick.”

Raven’s face was red. She was now regretting telling him to use it for dirty talk.

“Tell me beloved, what would be written in your diploma, Master’s Degree of sucking cock?” His voice had become hoarse and Raven was breathless, “Masters of my dick?” His lips sucking on her ear.

She regrets it. But she also felt the need to fight him back. She was also very embarrassed by his words. She tugged at his tie, making him pull away from her ear. She stared at him seriously.

“On the note of graduation day,” Her free hand brushed the buttons on his shirt. “Should I be completely naked underneath the graduation gown?” This time it was her turn to whisper in his ear.

She felt his body tense up.

This was something she knew to be a fact. Damian was the jealous type.

“In that case, I will buy you the gown and we can use it in the bedroom.” She thought she could hear his teeth grinding. The flirtiness disappeared from his voice.

Raven smirked; it was her win.

Another thing she noticed about her husband, he didn’t even like the thought of someone possibly seeing her in any potentially suggestive way. He rarely vocally object, sometimes he’d make a face, but she could always tell when he didn't like it when someone looked at her in the wrong way for even just a second.

She would notice how his cold face would change on a micro level when she purposely wore a dangerously short skirt or a really revealing outfit. But he had only told her to change clothes a couple of times since they'd been married. All of which were outfits she wore on purpose to see his bottom line. Still, he rarely says his objections but often she can tell when he doesn't like something.

She looped his tie around her hand, “In that case, we can pretend you're the professor, and I, your naughty student.”

It was clear that he wasn’t happy, “Is there a hot professor I didn’t know about?”

He knows her classmates and her teachers but Raven thinks this is the first time he sounded threatened by a teacher she randomly mentioned.

She studied her husband’s face, it seemed that he was riding his jealousy. “Hmm, hotter than my husband? Quite impossible.” She let go of his tie and placed both her hands on his chest as she rubbed his torso soothingly.

“Then why the professor suggestion?” He quietly asked and she sighed.

“I was thinking you were my hot professor.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he still wasn’t convinced.

In all the years that they had been together, he was often cockier than not, but very rarely he would show her this side of him. Uncertain and unsure, so opposite from how the whole world perceived him.

A man who knows what he wants and gets it without fail.

Damian was often gentle towards her. The only time he'd be rough was during sex. But unsure of himself? Rarely.

“About the baby…” She watched him carefully and it seemed to have caught his attention. He stared at her as he waited for her to continue. “In a few more years, I promise.”

She saw the small smile on his face as the uncertainty disappeared which turned to a gentleness in his demeanor that honestly made her swoon.

“A baby?” He smiled as his hands found her waist. “Then I’ll have to start looking for our future home with our children.” He said dreamily, there was this softness on his face that tugged at her heart. How could he easily make her swoon and wet in mere seconds?

“Children?” She ventured, eyes carefully observing his face.

“One is not enough.” He answered back in a quieter voice. No hint of doubt on his face but the volume of his voice might say otherwise. Yet, it was just factual to him, that much she could tell.

She smiled and leaned her forehead against his jaw, “Hmm, you’re always right, beloved.” Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as he hugged her back with his muscled arms around her waist.

There was clear surprise in his eyes at her words but he smiled and pressed his upturned lips against her temple.

He was going to have a family with her. Even if their marriage was arranged, he was happy and excited for their future. He was glad he married her.

"Our fifth wedding anniversary is coming around the corner too. How about another wedding as your graduation gift?" He whispered and Raven pulled away looking up at him with wide eyes. "One where we profess our love and where we plan the wedding the way we actually want it."

She smiled brightly. "I don't think that's a graduation gift." And she saw how his lips were about to frown, she quickly added. "It's a gift for a lifetime."

She watched her husband's tan cheeks flush at her words.

"I love you."

FIN.

~.~.~.~.~.~

A/N:

Well, in the book I read the couple got married, she got shipped out on their wedding night and they never met for like 3-5 years. Apparently, they tried calling each other but only to hear that the number is out of service. And the two knew each other since childhood tho still arranged (and forced) marriage, but still you’d think someone would go find the other. So, this is me coping.

And I still don’t know why they were getting ‘out of service’ when they called each other.

And then the image of Damian naked but with a blanket over his legs working on the bed with eyeglasses on was stuck in my mind and so I decided to use it here. It also makes sense to me in modern AUs that Damian is cocky. On Modern AU notes, I have like 3 on my drafts with cocky Dami because I was inspired.

I didn’t even think I would participate too, I wrote this in a few hours in a span of a couple of days. I am impressed but this is also rushed. And I do have some other bonus scene ideas floating currently in my head. But this is already quite long so, maybe I might dump it somewhere, one day. (11/16/23, I do not remember what I had planned, but I will keep this here, so I know that I did at one point. I think one was about the wedding.)

I thought that using the line “Put This On For Me” in this manner would be unique. Which also drove me to write, but it took a while to get there. I think the common thing people would think when they see this line is some sexy outfit. So doing the opposite really called to me.

And if someone is going to ask why the sexy is like that, I am still traumatized from writing smut. There was a time I was writing 5 different smut scenes back-to-back… it left an impression. I can write it if I don’t think about it, but it’s something I have to think about most of the time to write so…it’s hard… anyway…

Before I forget, the end of the bonus scene and the graduation gift, who said it is up for your interpretation, maybe even they said it both.

And to add, in my head this Raven attended college or uni later than normal.

Hope you guys enjoyed it.

Ciao.

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my-little-delusions · 3 months

Text

To the Ends of the Universe Pt. 2 - Dick Grayson x Reader

Pairings: Dick Grayson x Reader (Romantic), Bruce Wayne x Assistant!Pennyworth!Reader, Donna x Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Death, cursing, violence, talk of self harm, talk of domestic abuse, talk of terminal illness and hospitals, experiments, smut (skippable)

(It's a long summary I know I'm sorry. Read it or don't.)

Summary: When you were 6 years old, you were diagnosed with a terminal illness. The doctors said there was nothing they could do, and your health would rapidly decline. You wouldn't live past 8 years old. Your parents refused to take that answer and decided to make their own cure for you. However, they couldn't stop there, they didn't just want to make you healthy, they wanted to make you super. Make sure nothing could put you in harms way ever again. After a faulty experiment when you were 10 years old, the lab they worked out of, killed your parents and left you a sole survivor.

When reports of a "super kid" loose on the streets reached Wayne Manor, Bruce picked you up. Alfred ended up adopting you legally, but when Bruce realized you had no control of your powers, he decided to train you. Teach you how to use your powers and keep them under control.

A year later Bruce adopted Dick. Growing up and Training side by side you and Dick were inseparable. Your crush on Dick, the cute guy you would with a year older than you, only got worse. As well as his protectiveness over you. Your relationship flourished and you two seemed unstoppable. But what happens when Dick convinces you to leave Gotham? Make a new life for yourselves all on your own.

Disclaimer: I am fully aware my timeline/numbers are screwy, don't think about it. This is based solely on the Titans show, it is definitely not comic accurate lol.

--------------------

"I wish I didn't have to leave you baby," Dick mumbles, his arms wrapped around my waist.

"Baby," I smile looking up at him amused, "We can't do this every morning. You need to go to work, you said you would commit to this,"

"I know," He groans, pulling away, "You know they keep trying to give me a partner, I don't want to work with anyone but you,"

"I already told you I am not joining the force, there is too much surveillance on the cops,"

"But-"

"No. Look, Dick, being the Green Jay with you and Bruce on occasion was fun, but it put too many targets on my head, I can't risk my powers getting linked to my identity. Even by the PD. I mean, can you even imagine what they would find if they drug-tested me?"

"You're right, you're right," Dick laughs, "I guess I just miss you is all, I'm not used to not seeing you all day every day you know," He says, placing a kiss on my lips.

"I miss you too," I say once I pull away, "How about when you get back tonight we have a night just to ourselves, alright?"

"Oh yeah?" He quirks, "Alright, I'll look forward to it.... Orrrr we could have right now to ourselves,"

"Oh my god just go to work," I smile, shoving him away a bit.

"Okay, okay," He throws his hands up in defeat, grabbing his keys and coat, "I'll see you when I get home."

--------------------

"HEY BABE!" Dick calls, his voice laced with concern and an assertiveness I haven't heard since Gotham.

Swiftly I hurry my way towards the staircase, worry coursing through my veins. However, once I reach the stairs I freeze.

There Dick is at the bottom of the stairs, his lips pulled tightly in a like and a girl tucked away behind him.

"Fuck," I whisper under my breath, running up to him and pulling him into a hug. Dick just stands there, his shoulders slouched in defeat.

Pulling away, my eyes scan all of his features, my eyes glossing over slightly. His hardened face softens as he looks at me.

"I'm gonna go pack our stuff." He says, his tone is serious again,

"Okay.." I say, following him with my gaze as he brushes past me, his fingers lingering on mine. "Hi," I say, facing the girl. Her head whips up. "I'm Y/N, what's your name?"

"Rachel"

--------------------

Dick opens the car door to pop open the trunk.

"This is yours?" Rachel asks as she steps into the garage.

"Family heirloom," Dick answers, tossing our luggage in.

I walk up to him, my back to Rachel. Reaching out my hand, I rub his arm through his jacket, attempting to comfort him.

"I'm sorry baby," I whisper to him, aware that Rachel is most likely listening, but at least whispering doesn't invite her to chime in, "I know you really wanted to avoid this sort of thing again."

He looks at me with a soft smile, reaching his and over and placing it on top of my hand on his arm.

"From the circus?" Rachel asks,

Dick chuckles, looking up from me to Rachel, "Not the one you're thinking. Come on let's go."

I adjust my posture from leaning on the car and walk to the passenger side.Opening the door, I lean in to u latch the front seat, revealing the small 2nd row of the car.

Giving Rachel a smile, I motion for her to get it, but she hesitates.

"We'll keep you safe, I promise,"

"That's not something you can promise," Rachel says to me before getting in the car anyway.

I push the front seat back into place and get in.

This feels like something we can't turn back from.

--------------------

The awkward silence in the car since we left the garage is slowly becoming unbearable. Tensions are high. I can practically feel the stress radiating off of dick.

Looking over at him, I can see his emotions plastered all over his face. It's a look I haven't had to see since we left Gotham. Exhaustion. Sadness. Anger. All of it.

My heart clenches and I reach over to Dick's free hand, pulling it over to my lap and holding it. Giving him reassuring squeezes throughout the drive every time I feel him tense.

"Where are we going?" Rachel finally speaks up,

"Somewhere safe," Dicks says, swallowing hard,

"My mom, says there's no such thing as monsters," Rachel turns her head to look out the window, "I think she was wrong."

--------------------

"Thank you," Dick says to the waitress, "You want a hot chocolate or something?"

"Just a coffee, black," Rachel says,

"I bet they have marshmallows," Dick smiles. My heart swells a bit as I look at him. I haven't seen many smiles like that from him in a long time. Definitely not in Gotham.

"I'm not a kid, okay?" Rachel snaps at him a bit,

"Rachel..." I say, with a bit of a warning tone, glancing at the waitress standing there awkwardly.

"Okay, same for the lady," Dick says and the waitress fills up Rachel's cup with a smile, gesturing to offer me some.

"I'm okay, thank you,"

The waitress gives me a smile before walking away.

"My mom didn't like me to drink coffee," Rachel says, reaching for the sugar and pouring a long steady stream of it into her cup.

Dick chuckles, "Sweet tooth, huh?"

Rachel says nothing.

"Rachel, has anything like.. like what happened happened before?"

"No, not like that," Rachel takes a deep breath, her voice growing shaky, "I didn't mean to kill that guy,"

"How did you kill that guy," Dick presses further, but Rachel only takes a sip of her coffee and stares off to the side. "We're gonna go see some old friends of ours," Dick glances at me, They're safe, they'll give us a place to lie low for a second, get our heads together. Give us some time to get our heads together."

"You're scared I get it," I say to Rachel, "But sometimes there's no time to be scared,"

And then.

Pain.

Blinding pain.

That's all I could feel.

It felt as if my head was boiling and my bones were freezing and cracking.

"Fuck." I say, my eyes squeezing shut my body beginning to curl in on itself. My hand reaches out to grip Dick's arms, gripping him hard, my nails digging into his forearm.

"Y/n? Baby? Hey, hey what's going on?" Dick's worried tone just barely breaking through the crackling noises sounding in my head. Opening my eyes, I can make out Dick's worried expression through my blurred vision, his brows furrowed, eyes wide, lips parted slightly.

"Dick?" I say, my voice is shaky as my vision begins to grow dark, my body becoming numb.

"Babe, come on, talk to me, what's happening right now?" Dick begins to tap my face lightly, trying to get me to wake up.

All of a sudden, it feels like my body is getting pumped with pure oxygen and I gasp loudly, drawing attention from.others in the restaurant.

My chest heaves and I look around the room frantically as Dick continues to stare me down with his worried expression.

Dick's hands cup my face, "Are you okay? What just happened right now?"

"I-I don't know," I say, "I think I'm okay... I'm okay"

----------

Authors Note: This fic really is for the girls who just wanna take care of the poor baby. :/

Request Open!

(If there's anything specific you want to see in this story as well, just comment it, I am open to suggestions)

Lemme know if you wanna be on the taglist

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ichorai · 1 year

Text

blueberries ; five.

pairing ; joey tribbiani x gn!reader x rachel green chapter synopsis ; the one with accidental love confessions, friendly one night stands, and marinara sauce. wc ; 10.0k warnings / includes ; talks of sex/suggestive content, cursing, ross is an asshole in this one, a tiny connor cameo, rachel is a mess </3 and joey finally Realizes how he feels !!

series masterlist. main masterlist.

“I’ll pay you back this time, I promise!” Joey begged, clasping his hands together with a pleading pout.

With a sigh, Chandler pulled his wallet out, slapping a crisp, five dollar bill onto the table. “Yeah? Where’s all this money coming from, then?”

Lowering his voice, Joey leaned forward to whisper, “I’m helpin’ out at the NYU Med School with some… research.”

Obviously not whispering quietly enough, the entire group turned to him, interests piqued.

“What kind of research?” you asked, which made Joey flinch and snap his head to you.

“Oh, uh… just… you know! Science, and stuff.”

The rest of you stared at him with skeptical expressions.

“Science?” parroted Ross. “Hm, don’t think I’ve heard of that one.”

Relenting, Joey sank lower into the cafe’s seat. “Alright, alright—it’s a fertility study.”

Snorting, Monica chimed, “Please tell me you’re only donating your time.” The rest of you chuckled along with her.

“Come on, you guys, it’s not that big of a deal,” huffed Joey. “Really, I just go down there every other day and… make my contribution to the project. At the end of two weeks, I’ll get seven hundred bucks!”

“Wow,” said Phoebe. “You’re gonna be making money hand over fist!”

You choked on your sip of coffee, and Chandler had to sympathetically pound your back to get you to stop.

It was Rachel’s birthday, and you were in Monica’s kitchen, helping her chop up some vegetables for the birthday barbecue the group was throwing. Joey and Chandler strode in shortly after, reenacting cavemen with stupid accents.

“Hey,” you interrupted, which made the two freeze mid-chest pound. “Your girlfriend called, Joe. She’s gonna be late.”

A couple days ago, Joey and Melanie started casually dating. Though, much to your dismay, he seemed to really like her. Not that you didn’t want Joey to be happy or anything… you just weren’t all that fond of Melanie. She was rather dull, if you had to put it bluntly. All she really seemed to care about were fruit baskets and, from what Joey’s told you, sex.

“How’s it going with her?” Phoebe queried. “Is she becoming your special someone?”

A grin crossed over Joey’s features. “I don’t know, she’s… she’s pretty great!”

“Yeah, pretty great with fruit baskets,” you mumbled under your breath, loud enough for Joey to catch.

“Sure, she can be a bit… one-dimensional, but it’s been going really well!” he defended, grabbing a piece of carrot from your cutting board and popping it into his mouth.

Monica grinned. “Yeah? What’s she think of your little science project?”

Joey scoffed at the notion. “You really think I’m gonna tell a girl I like that I’m also seein’ a cup?” Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tough thing is, she really wants to have sex with me.”

Taking a swig of beer, Chandler sardonically noted, “Crazy bitch.”

You rolled your eyes. “She cornered me the other day asking if I’ve ever slept with you, you know.”

Stiffening, Joey tilted his head. “What? What did you say?”

“Obviously, I told her no!” you shot back. “I asked her why, and she said she thought we were together at one point and thereby assumed we’ve had sex, so she wanted my advice, because you always seemed to push her away.”

The Italian crossed his arms in thought. “Huh. Weird.”

“Hm, I wonder why she thought the two of you were together at one point,” Chandler postulated, staring pointedly at Joey.

“What happened then?” Phoebe asked.

“What do you think happened?” you sighed, washing your hands off and flicking the excess water away once you were done chopping up the vegetables. “She sent me a fruit basket.”

The two girls snickered.

“Hey, why haven’t you slept with her yet?” Monica tilted her head at Joey. “Normally, you don’t last the first night with someone you’re going out with.”

“Well, I’ve still got a week left to go on the program, and according to the rules, if I want to get the money, I’m not allowed to conduct any personal experiments, if you know what I mean,” he said.

Twisting her face with disgust, Monica shook her head. “Joey, we always know what you mean.”

A part of you wanted to say that having sex really didn’t affect sperm count in the long run—you’d known thanks to an ex-boyfriend of yours who had been a urologist—but, much to your surprise, you bit your tongue and withheld the information.

Chandler and Joey were off to the balcony to start the grill’s fire, and not long after, Ross appeared through the door, looking despondent. He was clutching a large bag that looked nearly twice your weight.

“Woah,” said Phoebe. “How long did you think this barbecue was going to last?”

The tall man blew out a long exhale. “I’m going to China,” he mumbled, setting the bag down with a loud thud.

“What?” his sister asked. “You’re going to China?”

“It’s for the museum!” replied Ross. “Someone found a bone, we want the bone, and they don’t want us to have the bone—so I’m going to try to persuade them to give it to us—really, it’s a whole big boner thing. I shouldn’t have said boner. You get what I mean.”

Narrowing your eyes, you hummed, “Maybe if they found it in China, don’t you think it should stay there with the Chinese? I mean, it’s rightfully theirs.”

Ross was about to counter, mouth hanging open, but found no words to argue with.

You rolled your eyes. “Gosh, Ross, you’ll be just as bad as the British Museum stealing from people of color. Way to go.”

You turned, about to march away from him, but he called out after you, “I’m gonna be gone for a week! Won’t you at least say goodbye?”

“Bye!” you barked out, striding out to the balcony with Chandler and Joey.

“Hey, you okay? You look all…” Chandler trailed off to impersonate a snarl and raised his hands to form claws.

“Charming as ever, my dear Chandler. It’s a wonder you’re still single,” you mock-sighed dreamily, leaning against him and batting your eyelashes. The two of you laughed, and you pulled away. “Ross is going to China.”

Joey’s eyebrows rose. “The country?”

“No, the broken pile of dishes in his mom’s yard,” Chandler sarcastically quipped.

“Yeah, and he’s being a real dick,” you muttered, crossing your arms.

It was then that Ross peeked his head through the window, stepping out with mild difficulty due to his gangly limbs.

“Did Y/N tell you guys I’m going to China?” he asked, which earned him a sharp glare from you. The other two men nodded their heads. “Also, do you guys know who Carl is?”

“Hm, let’s see—Alvin, Simon, Theodore… nope, ‘fraid I don’t know him,” said Chandler.

Ross pulled a sour face. “Apparently Rachel’s out having drinks with him.”

“Oh, no, how can she do that when she’s never shown any interest in you whatsoever?” said Joey, and you high-fived him with an amused chortle.

Sick of Ross moping around and pining over Rachel, Chandler admonished, “Just forget about her, man! You’ve been stuck in the friendzone for way too long for anything to happen.”

“He’s right,” added Joey. “Please, just move on. Go to China, eat Chinese food!”

“I don’t know… I guess I have no choice,” Ross lamented, fiddling with the small, wrapped gift. “Listen, Y/N, I know you’re pissed at me, but will you please make sure Rachel gets this? And that she knows it’s from me?”

Rolling your eyes, you snatched the gift from him and tucked it safely into the pockets of your baggy jeans, refusing to meet his gaze. “When does your plane leave?”

“In two hours, but I should get going now if I wanna catch it.”

“Well, bye then. Travel safely.”

“I don’t want to leave knowing you’re mad—”

You blew out a deep sigh. “It’s fine, Ross. Just go. We’re fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“Really? Because it doesn’t—”

“Just go!” the other two guys exclaimed, shooing Ross out. The taller man relented, and climbed back into the apartment.

Joey wrapped his arms around you from behind, and you suddenly felt uncomfortable. Sure, it was alright when he wasn’t dating anyone but now, knowing that he was doing this with you when he had a girlfriend he very much liked—it made your chest feel tight, like a large stone was weighing down on your lungs.

“Yikes, that was hard to watch. Remind me not to get on your bad side,” he said, amused.

“You have, Joey.”

“Remind me not to get on your bad side again,” he clarified.

Clearing his throat, Chandler propped his hands on his hips. “Hey, lovebirds. Are we going to get the fire started, or what?”

“Anyway, that’s when me and my friends started this fruit-basket business!” explained Joey’s girlfriend, who was precariously perched on his lap and gesturing wildly with her hands. “We call ourselves The Three Basketeers.”

Awkwardly, the rest of you let out a couple of forced chuckles. You had to swallow down the urge to roll your eyes.

“Can we open my presents now?” Rachel whined, bouncing in her spot with excitement. Normally, you would’ve wanted to have dinner first and save presents for last, but you were eager to get away from the topic of fruit baskets.

The group headed over to the couches, but you held Joey back, a small smile across your lips.

“Hold on there, hot shot. How’s it going, how are you holding up with Melanie?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Joey winced. “Ugh, not so good, to be honest. She thinks tonight’s the night we’re gonna complete the transaction, if you know what I mean.”

“Yes, I know what you mean, Jo,” you bit out, rolling your eyes. “Well, have you ever thought about… you know, just giving instead of receiving?”

There was a brief moment of silence. “What do you mean?” His voice lowered, and he leaned closer to you.

Cocking an eyebrow, you whispered, “Well, there’s oral, there’s fingering, there’s thigh riding… toys work too, if you’ve got any of those. Which, if you don’t, I know for a fact Chandler has some.”

The man across from you ogled you with wide eyes. “Oh. Oh.”

“Just think about it, okay? I promise, she’ll be completely smitten with you by the time you’re done.”

You were just about to head to the couches to watch Rachel open her gifts before he loosely caught your wrist.

“Thanks,” he said, wholly sincere. You smiled at him, patting his cheek affectionately, before heading off. A second later, he called out, “Wait, why do you know that Chandler has sex toys?!”

“I’m gonna take a wild guess here,” said the birthday girl, holding a fruit basket, “this is from Melanie?”

Joey’s girlfriend clapped excitedly, just about to launch into a tirade about the perfectly curated fruits she had selected, but was promptly interrupted when Rachel grabbed another gift.

“Ooh, this one’s light. It rattles… it’s—” She pulled a box out of the bag. “Travel scrabble.”

Joey and Chandler grinned at each other, but you could already see the disappointment in Rachel’s eyes.

“Thanks,” she said, dryly, before shoving the box to the side, much to Chandler’s dismay.

The rest of the presents were opened one by one—Monica had gotten Rachel a cute blouse that you just knew she would return for a different piece later, Phoebe got her about a dozen charm bracelets, claiming she didn’t know which one Rachel would like the most, so she just got her all of them, and Joey got her a Dr. Seuss book, much to her dismay. Rachel got around to your bag, which held a pack of scented candles, and bundles of fairy lights for her to hang in her room.

She looked pretty happy with those, which made you sigh out in relief. Rachel was a bit hard to get gifts for, considering she already had practically everything.

Finally, you pulled out Ross’ gift from your pocket, handing it to her. “Here, Rach. This is from Ross.”

The brunette grinned, tearing the little package open thinking it’d be something nerdy, like a magnifying glass or a miniature dinosaur figure from the museum.

“Oh, my God,” she said when she finally opened it. “He remembered!”

You peered over to see a large, bejeweled pin held precariously between her fingers.

“Remembered what?” Phoebe asked.

“It was like, months ago, we were walking by this antique store, and I saw this exact pin in the window and I told him it was just like the one my grandmother had when I was a little girl—and… oh, I just can’t believe he got it for me!”

Chandler scoffed. “Sure, it’s nice, but can you play it on a plane?” he drummed his hands along the Travel Scrabble box, before sinking further into his seat when you glared at him.

“Oh, it’s so pretty,” Phoebe chimed when Rachel reached out to give her a closer look. “That must’ve cost him a fortune!”

“I can’t believe he got you that,” said Monica.

“What, Ross? Remember in college when he fell in love with Carol and bought her that ridiculously expensive crystal duck?” Chandler commented, completely unaware of what he’d just said.

The rest of you stared at him with wide eyes.

“What did you just say?” whispered Rachel.

It took a second for Chandler to realize where he’d gone wrong. He sat upright, spluttering and coughing out simultaneously, “Crystal duck?”

“No,” Rachel said. “No, no… the, uhm, the ‘love’ part?”

Chandler struggled to find his tongue, eventually giving up and sinking his face into his hands.

“Oh, my God,” Rachel softly whispered. “This is just… this is unbelievable! I just—I can’t believe Ross is… oh, my God. This is huge.”

“No, it’s not! It’s small, it’s tiny, it’s petite, it’s wee!” Chandler pleaded, trying to get her to calm down.

“I think this is so great,” said Monica, clasping her hands together. “I mean, you and Ross! Did you have any idea?”

Still stunned, Rachel shook her head. “No, none at all. I mean, my first night in the city, he mentioned something about asking me out, but nothing ever happened, so I just…” She turned to you. “What else did he say? Does he want to go out with me?”

“Considering that he’s desperately in love with you, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess that he wouldn’t mind getting a cup of coffee, or something,” you replied, grasping her shoulders. “Listen, Rachel, don’t freak out about this. Take some time to think it over, and you can talk to Ross when he gets back.”

All of a sudden, she jerked away from you, standing up. “What do you mean when he gets back? Where is he? I need to talk to him!”

“He’s in China!” Chandler stepped in.

“The country,” Joey clarified.

Checking the flight information, Monica told her, “His flight doesn’t leave for another forty-five minutes.”

“What about the time difference?” cried Chandler, desperate to keep Rachel from confronting Ross, knowing that it was his fault that she knew in the first place.

“From here to the airport?” you asked, scoffing. “Rachel, he’ll be back in a week—that’s basically nothing! Just take this time to think it over—”

Already determinedly striding to the door, Rachel called over her shoulder, “I have to try and get to him before he goes. It’s just… too big to not talk about right now.”

“What are you gonna say?” asked Monica.

“I don’t know!” she replied, breathless.

Though you were still quite pissed with Ross, you put a hand on Rachel’s forearm. “Honey, if you’re going to break his heart, that can wait until after he’s back.”

Rachel’s eyes met yours, uncertain. “I don’t know,” she repeated. “Maybe I’ll know when I see him. All I know is that I can’t wait a week. This is just too big of something to sit on.”

More protests were on the tip of your tongue, but you held them down, well aware that your words would only fall upon deaf ears.

She already had a foot out the door when Chandler screamed, “Rachel, I love you! Deal with me first!”

Exasperated, Rachel huffed out a sigh, and stomped out the door, on her way to go see Ross.

She didn’t make it.

Ross had already gotten on the plane by the time Rachel arrived at the airport.

When she got back, Chandler and Joey and Melanie had already left, leaving just you, Phoebe, and Monica in the apartment. Monica had asked her again what she was planning on telling him when he got back. When Rachel finally admitted that the idea of dating Ross sounded really nice, Monica jumped up to wrap her arms around her, smiling widely.

“Oh, we’d be like friends-in-law!” she exclaimed, beaming. “The best part is that you already know everything about him! It’s like starting out on the fifteenth date.”

Phoebe countered, “Well, at the fifteenth date, you’re already in such a relationship-y place. You’re super committed at that point. You know, what happens if it doesn’t work out?”

“Why isn’t it working out?” Monica shot back, bristling. “Is he not cute enough for you? Does he not make enough money? Is there someone else?”

Rachel opened and closed her mouth several times, flubbering for words, before placatingly placing her hands on Monica’s shoulders. “Okay, Mon, you need to calm down. No, there is no one else.” Taking a pause, she looked to you. “Y/N, you’re the closest to Ross out of all of us. What do you think?”

Surprised at the sudden question, you could only offer her a gentle suggestion. “Rach, as much as I love the idea of two of my friends getting together—I just don’t think it’d be a good idea. Obviously, if you like him, you should go for it, but… think about it. You wouldn’t even be thinking twice about dating him if Chandler hadn’t let it slip that he loved you. Just think about your own feelings towards him—don’t get with him just because he loves you. That’s not fair to either of you.”

Though that wasn’t the answer that she was probably looking for, Rachel nodded, pursing her lips to the side. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Y/N. I’ll think about it.” She stood up, teeth worrying into her bottom lip. “I’m gonna go to bed now. Thank you for the party and the gifts, guys.”

With that, she turned and strode back into her room, softly shutting the door behind her.

“It was amazing!” Joey gushed, thanking you profusely. “That thing you told me about thigh-riding! Man, oh man!”

You huffed, setting down the sandwich you were having, not feeling very hungry anymore. “Too much information, Joe. I’m eating here!”

Your complaint falling upon deaf ears, he carried on, “It was just amazing. Not just for her—for me, too. It’s like, all of a sudden, I’m blind, but all my other senses are heightened, you know? It’s like I was able to appreciate it on another level.”

From beside you, Chandler snorted into his coffee. “I didn’t even know you had another level.”

“I know!” Joey exclaimed. “Neither did I! Say, Y/N, you have any more advice for me?”

If you went back in time a year ago and told your past-self that Joey Tribbiani came to you for sex advice, you would’ve laughed right in your future-self’s face.

“Praise goes a long way,” you said, absentmindedly toying with the bread of your sandwich. “Or degrade her, if she likes it better that way. A little hand action and some sweet talk is very effective. Now, can we stop talking about sex? I’m trying to have my lunch here!”

A week passed by in a breeze. You were in Monica’s apartment, listening to Joey and Chandler rave about the haircuts Phoebe had given them.

“You look nice,” you told Joey, reaching over to trace the freshly-cut strands. “Though, I do have to say that I’ll miss the long hair.”

“I’ll grow it out for you,” he promised, grasping your hand within his.

The door swung open then, and in tumbled an out-of-breath Rachel, who had a zebra-print plaster over her forehead.

“Airport! Airport!” she screeched, panting. “Ross… not alone! Julie—arm around her! Flowers! Oh, cramp! Cramp!” She clutched her side and doubled over in pain.

“Okay, I think she’s trying to tell us something!” Chandler sarcastically told the rest of the group. You shoved him to the side with a roll of your eyes and made your way to Rachel, gently asking if she was alright.

Completely ignoring your question, Rachel pointed an accusing finger at Chandler, jabbing it into his chest. “You said he liked me!” she shrieked. “You… you—!”

As if on cue, Ross strode into the open apartment, large bag in hand, and a woman on the other. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Why’d you run up so fast, Rach?” asked Ross, laughing slightly.

“I, uhm… I thought we were racing?” she replied, eye visibly twitching. You patted her shoulder sympathetically.

Shrugging off the weird response, Ross greeted the rest of you, giving his sister a hug, clapped Joey and Chandler on the backs, and gave Phoebe a kiss on the cheek. He stopped in front of you, spreading his arms sheepishly.

Though the two of you separated on not-so-great terms, you didn’t have the heart to be angry at him for an entire week.

You stepped forward and gave him a brief embrace, before pulling away and patting his cheek with a little more force than necessary.

“You still mad at me?” he asked, looking genuinely uncertain.

“When am I not, Ross?” you sighed, shaking your head. “It’s good to have you back.”

He smiled in relief, before stepping away to introduce his new girlfriend, wrapping an arm around her. “Okay, everyone, this is Julie.”

The rest of you chimed your hellos, though not without sending worried glances to Rachel.

“Hi,” said Julie, smiling tiredly. “But I’m not here, you haven’t met me. I’ll make a much better first impression tomorrow when I don’t have twenty hours of cab and plane on me.”

“And bus!” Ross added.

“Oh, my God, right? The spitting guy, and the screaming… it was terrible!”

“Yeah, you guys have to hear this story,” said Ross.

Julie nodded emphatically. “Right, we’re on this bus that’s easily two-hundred years old. And this guy—”

“And the chicken poops in her lap,” Rachel interrupted, deadpan.

Everybody stared at her, mildly confused.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the brunette said, looking shocked at herself. “I just gave away the ending, didn’t I? Oh, it’s just that I heard this story in the cab, like, three times and it’s all I can think about.” She grimaced, turning to rest her forehead against your shoulder in embarrassment.

In an effort to divert the attention away from Rachel, Monica clapped her hands. “Wow, this is… how did this happen, Ross?”

“Oh, Ross and I were in grad school together!” said Julie, brightening at the memory.

“But we haven’t seen each other since then. Well, I land in China, and guess who’s in charge of the dig?”

“Julie!” Rachel exclaimed, a strained edge to her voice. “I mean, isn’t that just hit-you-in-the-crotch, spit-on-your-neck fantastic?”

The couple stared at her strangely.

“It’s an inside joke,” you awkwardly chuckled, waving it away with a convincing grin.

“Alright, well, we’re gonna go see the baby,” said Ross.

Julie hummed in agreement. “Then we gotta get some sleep. I’m exhausted!”

“Yeah, it’s really six o’clock tomorrow night our time.”

The couple bid their goodbyes, before heading out the door.

Rachel let out a soft exhale, and you roped her into a proper hug, stroking the back of her head comfortingly.

“Hey, does anybody know a good tailor?” asked Chandler as he ambled into Monica’s apartment.

“You need some clothes altered?” said Joey, aimlessly flipping through a magazine on the couch, resting his head in your lap. He’d recently been more clingy because he’d broken up with Melanie the day before. According to him, all she really ever talked about were fruit baskets—which were his words, not yours. Though, you were thinking the same thing.

Chandler huffed, “No, no, I’m just looking for a man to draw on me with chalk,” he deadpanned.

Lifting his head slightly, Joey peered over the couch to look at his roommate. “Why don’t you go see Frankie? My family’s been going to him forever. He did my first suit when I was fifteen. No, wait, sorry. Sixteen. No—fifteen. No!” He looked to you, brows furrowed. “When was 1990 again?”

Chandler snorted, gesturing to his ears. “Okay, buddy, you have to stop the q-tip when there’s resistance!”

From across the room, Ross was on the phone with his new girlfriend he seemed completely smitten with, much to Rachel’s dismay. Rachel visibly rolled her eyes when Ross cooed lovingly into the phone, before getting up and storming into the kitchen. You and Joey locked eyes, before hurrying after her, not wanting to miss out on any drama.

“How is this happening to me?” the brunette softly cried to Monica. “A week ago, Ross was just Ross—he was just this guy! Now, all of a sudden, he’s… he’s Ross! This really great guy that I can’t have.”

Sympathetic, Monica placed an arm over her roommate’s shoulder. As if on cue, Ross came strolling into the kitchen to grab a banana from the fruit bowl, phone wedged between his shoulder and the side of his head, making gross kissing noises.

Rachel bolted up, squaring her jaw.

“I gotta get out of here,” she bit out, before grabbing her bag and striding right out the door.

“Okay, I don’t care what you guys say, but something’s bothering her!” Chandler sarcastically quipped.

Rolling your eyes, you made your way to the door. “I’ll go talk to her.”

“Hey,” you said, gently brushing your fingers against Rachel’s shoulder to alert her of your presence. She was sitting on the apartment building’s short stairs, hunched over her knees as she hugged them against her chest. She turned to look at you, a forlorn expression melded over her features. Softening, you tugged her into a hug, rubbing your palm up and down her back. “I’m sorry, Rach. I wish I could do something to help. You wanna talk about it?”

When she pulled away, her eyes were glassy with a thin, warbling film of unshed tears.

“I just… I don’t know what’s going on with me, you know? I never really thought about Ross in that way and the one time I do… he’s with someone else and it hurts. When I saw Ross get off that plane with her, I really thought I’d just hit rock bottom. And you know how people always tell you that it gets better? Well, today I feel more shitty than I did the day before.” Rachel buried her face into her palms, tears streaking down her cheeks.

“Oh, honey, why don’t you just tell him?” you asked. “He’s barely been with Julie for two weeks, and that’s nothing compared to how long Ross has been in love with you.”

Rachel let out a long sigh, lifting her damp face away from her hands. “I don’t know, Y/N. I’m just so confused. I don’t know.”

“Okay,” you said softly, moving closer to rope your arm over her shoulders, and pressed a gentle kiss to her warm forehead. “What do you say you come over to my place and we watch a movie, hm? I’ll let you pick.”

“Can we watch The Princess Bride?”

“Sure,” you said, taking her hands to pull her up with you. “Whatever you want.”

It shouldn’t have happened.

One moment, the two of you were cuddled up on your couch, preening over how good Westley looked, and the other, Rachel was on top of you, her lips frantically moving against yours.

It was your fault, really. Rachel was vulnerable, and obviously needed a distraction, and so, like a fool, you let her use you as one. You let her unbutton your shirt. You let her desperately tug against your hair. You let her kiss you, and you let her shove you into your bedroom.

At one point, you managed to pull away for a second, breathless and entirely conflicted about the situation. She looked so beautiful spread over the sheets of your bed, and it made your heart sink at the thought that she wasn’t doing this because she really wanted to—she was doing this because she was looking for something to make her forget. Even for just a little bit. “Rach, don’t you think we should slow down a bit? I know you’re hurting, but—”

She shook her head firmly, roping her arms over your neck and yanking you back down, kissing you hard. You froze against her, and the brunette sighed against you.

“Please?” she whispered, all soft and broken and devastating.

You could practically feel yourself caving.

No more words were exchanged.

You leaned back down to kiss her.

It was the next day. You were still sleeping in bed, most likely exhausted from all the activities you’d been up to the night before, and Rachel slipped out as soon as she’d woken up beside you. Naked and aching. Oh, what has she done?

Rachel winced as she tried to quietly open the door to Monica’s apartment, but it creaked, alerting everybody of her return. She was only grateful that Ross wasn’t there—probably off canoodling with his new girlfriend.

Monica’s eyes widened. “Oh, my God, Rachel, what happened? I was worried sick about you! Where’d you go last night?” After another moment, she narrowed her eyes, surveying her roommate’s disheveled appearance. “You slept with somebody, didn’t you?”

Clearing her throat, Rachel straightened her posture, pointedly ignoring Monica’s question. “I stayed over at Y/N’s place. Is there something wrong with that?”

At first, Monica nodded, relieved. “Oh, okay,” she said. Another second past, and her eyes widened, just about bugging out of her head at the realization. “Wait, you didn’t say no to my question. OH, MY GOD!”

From the couches, Joey turned his head at the commotion. “What’s going on?”

“RACHEL AND Y/N SLEPT TOGETHER!” shrieked Monica. Rachel fruitlessly tried to shush her, spewing out that it wasn’t that big of a deal and that it was a mistake.

From behind the closed bathroom door, Chandler’s voice echoed, “WHAT? RACHEL AND Y/N SLEPT TOGETHER?!” He came out a moment later, face colored red with shock.

Rachel pulled at the skin of her face in frustration and faced all her friends as they expectantly watched her, waiting for an explanation.

“How did this happen?” demanded Joey, seeming lost. “I thought you were… you were… Ross…”

“I am,” sighed Rachel, massaging her pulsing temples. “It was a mistake. A really wonderful one, sure, but still a mistake. Y/N was being so nice and it just happened, okay? I was the one that kissed them—so Y/N wasn’t taking advantage of me or anything. They tried to stop me at one point and I—I don’t know, I asked if we could keep going and Y/N gave in.” Her cheeks colored hotly at the memory.

The rest of them stared at her, speechless.

“Where is Y/N?” asked Joey, crossing his arms.

“Still sleeping,” whispered Rachel, feeling ashamed of herself. “I’m gonna go get changed. Excuse me.”

She left in a hurry, leaving the rest of them puzzled and unsure of what to make of things.

“So, you and Rachel, huh?” Joey leaned against your kitchen counter as you fixed yourself (and him) a sandwich, raising his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes. “It was a one night stand, Joey—a fling, if you will. You know that better than anybody.”

“Yeah, but it’s different,” he said, grabbing half of the cut sandwich and taking a large bite. “Because you were friends with her before. Don’t you think it’ll be weird going back to being friends?”

A part of you was a bit worried that Rachel would act weird about it, but you personally didn’t really see a problem with it—you knew Rachel had feelings for Ross and you didn’t want to get in the way of that any more than you already have.

“It’ll be fine,” you reassured him, bumping the side of your hip against his. “We’re both mature adults—besides, I love Rachel too much to let this ruin our friendship.”

With a teasing hum, Joey leaned in closer to you. “Oh, yeah? Do you love me enough to sleep with me and not let it ruin our friendship?”

With a scoff, you patted his chest and walked away, sandwich wedged between your teeth as you called out, “In your dreams, Tribbiani.”

Rachel showed up to your apartment again the next night, promising not to make any advances on you this time. She apologized profusely and the two of you had talked it out. It ended in tears (Rachel) and yawns (you) because it was way too late for you to get emotional. The two of you hugged it out, promising each other that this wouldn’t get weird, and before you knew it, she was getting up to go back.

“Oh, just so you know,” she said, hanging halfway out your doorway, “you’re really great in bed.”

Surprise colored your expression when she dipped forward to kiss you softly on the cheek, and sauntered away, humming gently under her breath. You blinked, before rubbing your fists into your eyes.

“I really need to get some sleep,” you thought to yourself dazedly, partially wondering if this was a dream.

“This is unbelievable, Pheebs. How can you be married?” Joey asked the blonde from Monica’s dining table.

Patting his shoulder you began to say, “See, Joe, when two people love each other very much—” You cut yourself off with a laugh when he began swatting at you, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Well, I’m not, like, married married. He was just a friend, and he’s gay! He’s from Canada, and he just needed a green card,” Phoebe defensively stated.

Monica shook her head. “I can’t believe you married Duncan. How could you not tell me! I mean, we lived together—we told each other everything!”

“Sorry, Mon, but if I told you, you would’ve gotten super judgemental and you wouldn’t have approved!”

Your raven-headed friend’s voice began to grow shrill as she said, “Of course I wouldn’t have approved! You were totally in love with this guy, who, hello, was gay! I mean, what the hell were you thinking?”

From across the table, Ross snorted. “See, Pheebs, and you thought she’d be judgemental.”

“Okay, I wasn’t in love with him, I was just helping out a friend!”

Accusingly, Monica shot back, “Please, when he left town, you stayed in your pajamas for a month! And I saw you eat a cheeseburger!”

The rest of you gasped.

“Phoebe, is that true?” Rachel asked, aghast.

Avoiding eye contact, the blonde poured herself a cup of tea. “I might’ve.”

“I just can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” said Monica. “Getting married is a big thing!”

Narrowing her eyes, Phoebe retorted, “Oh, come on. As if you tell me everything?”

“What have I not told you?” challenged Monica.

“Oh, I don’t know, how about the fact that the underwear out there on the telephone pole is yours from when you were having sex with Fun Bobby out on the terrace!” Phoebe exclaimed, pointing out the window.

The rest of you rushed to press your faces into the glass, eager to see what she was on about.

Offended, Monica slapped Chandler on the arm. “You told her?!”

Recoiling, Chandler bit out, “I didn’t know it was a big secret!”

“Oh, no of course not—at least not as big as having a third nipple!” she screeched, which brought all of your attention away from the underwear dangling outside to Chandler, who was tomato-faced and grimacing.

“You have a third nipple?” asked Phoebe.

“You bitch,” Chandler hissed to Monica, who only stuck her tongue out childishly.

Excited, Ross exclaimed, “Whip it out, Chandler!”

“Ew, guys! There’s nothing to see, it’s just a tiny bump, it’s totally useless!” He rounded to the living room to put some distance between the rest of you, but you all followed behind him anyways.

Cocking your head, you sarcastically put forth, “Right, as opposed to your other multifunctional nipples!”

“I can’t believe you! You told me it was a nubbin,” said Joey.

“Joe, what did you think a nubbin was?” Ross responded.

“I don’t know—you see something, you hear a word—I thought that’s what it was! Let me see it again, Chandler—”

Desperate to divert the attention away from him, Chandler pointed a finger at you. “Y/N and Rachel slept together!”

Most of the group waved him away, having already known that fact, but Ross blanched, eyes darting between you and Rachel.

“What?” he said. “You… you—you slept with her?” he said, an accusing lilt to his tone, bordering on anger. You blinked, brows creasing.

“Yeah,” you carefully said. “It was one time. We’re both grown adults, Ross, we’re allowed to do whatever we want to each other. Besides, you’re with Julie. What’s got your pickle in such a twist?”

Ross was close to belittling you, wanting to ask how could you? You know that I was in love with Rachel.

But he didn’t, because Rachel was right there, watching the two of you with worried eyes. And you were right—Rachel wasn’t his property. She was free to sleep with whoever she wanted, which included you. Not even mentioning that he had a girlfriend right now and had no right to be jealous for someone he wasn’t even dating.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You gonna drop it, Ross? Or is this gonna be a problem?”

“Nope. No problem,” Ross chuckled hoarsely, clearly having a problem with it.

Satisfied, you rolled your shoulders back and sent Chandler a withering glare. “Alright… since we’re dragging other people into this—Joey was in a porno!”

The group gasped at your revelation.

Jaw dropping, Joey glared at you with wide eyes, as if to say, how could you?

Chandler guffawed, clapping his hands together, relishing the chaos. “Yeah, that’s right! If I’m going down, I’m taking everybody with me!” This earned him a cuff to the back of his head, and he turned, only to cower away from your burning stare.

“Oh, my God! You were in a porno?” squawked Phoebe.

“Tell us about it, tell us about it!” chimed Monica.

Waving them away, Joey was quick to say, “Alright, alright! I was young and I just wanted a job, okay? But at the last minute, I couldn’t go through with it—my uh… my thing got stage fright, see? So they let me be the guy who comes in to fix the copier but can’t because—well, because there’s people havin’ sex on it.”

You snorted. “Never gets old.”

“That’s wild!” said Rachel. Then, she promptly turned back to Chandler, pointing at his chest. “So, what’s it shaped like?”

It was around a week later—and you strode into Monica’s apartment, exhausted from working a full day in the lab, only to be met by three squealing women with sloshing glasses of wine.

“Ross and Rachel kissed!” exclaimed Monica, flushed a bright shade of pink and grinning widely.

Your eyes widened. “What? Oh, my God… uhm, congrats?” you tentatively said, judging from their gleeful celebratory expressions. “What about Julie?”

The drunken atmosphere seemed to dwindle away at your question. Rachel sat up straight, expression crumbling. “Right… Julie…”

You strode to her and wrapped her into a warm embrace. There was so much that you wanted to stay, but you bit down on your tongue and just held her all the tighter.

The next day, you had to watch the excruciating exchange between Julie and Ross—the former having no clue about the kiss, and the latter looking as guilty as a child caught stealing cookies.

You decided you wanted no part in it, despite both Ross and Rachel constantly asking you for advice.

“This is like a complete nightmare!” Ross stressed from the privacy of Chandler’s apartment, pacing back and forth in front of the tv.

Rolling his eyes, Chandler sardonically bit out, “Oh, I know, it must be so hard having two women in love with you! They’re both gorgeous, my wallet’s too small for my fifties, and my diamond shoes are too tight!”

The taller man glared at him, crossing his arms.

“Listen, Ross, I got two words for you,” interjected Joey, holding up two fingers. “Threesome!”

You pinched his cheek with a scoff of a laugh. “That’s one word.”

“This isn’t helping!” Ross practically screeched. “Y/N, come on, you’re the most sensible out of all of us. Help me! What do I do?”

Feeling a bit guilty, you just shook your head. “Ross, either way, you’re going to hurt someone. You have two options—you break up with Julie and you get with Rachel, or you get firm with Rachel and tell her you’re staying with Julie. There’s no secret third option, because that’ll only lead to even more disaster and you’ll end up losing them both. Just don’t be a dick to either of them, okay? I care about Rachel a lot, and I don’t want to see her hurt because of you.”

Ross blinked at you. “So what I’m hearing is… Rachel?”

Throwing your hands up in the air, you wrinkled your nose at him in disgust, furrowing your brows. “Ugh, no! Damn it, Ross—”

“Let’s be logical about this,” interjected Chandler. “We’ll make a list—pros and cons for both Rachel and Julie.”

You crossed your arms. “That’s a terrible idea. Why are you treating them like objects for bartering?”

Huffing, Ross merely shook his head. “It’s not a half-bad idea, though. Might help me make a smart choice.”

“Great!” exclaimed Chandler. “Let’s start with the cons—Rachel first.”

Ross’ expression twisted hesitantly. “I don’t know… I guess you could say she’s a little spoiled sometimes. And you know, sometimes she’s a little ditzy—and I’ve seen her be a little too into her looks. Julie and I—we have a lot in common because we’re both paleontologists, but you know, Rachel’s just… she’s a waitress.”

Disgusted, you scoffed. “God, you’re such an asshole, Ross. Are you serious? The nerve of you…” you trailed off, pushing yourself away from Joey’s side to grab your coat on the back of the couch, already heading for the door.

“Hey, where are you going?” asked Joey. “Y/N, come back, he doesn’t mean it!” Pointedly, Joey jabbed Ross in the side, but he just guiltily looked to the ground.

“Fuck you, Ross. She’s my friend too, you know. Shame on you two, as well,” you chastised, glaring at the three men, before storming out of the apartment, making sure to slam the door hard behind you.

The next day, Ross broke up with Julie.

And just a bit after that, Rachel saw the list he’d made of her as she slipped into Chandler’s apartment to steal some of his moisturizer.

God, you knew something like this would happen.

You stumbled into Monica’s apartment with the rest of the group, laughter from a story Joey was telling ebbing away upon the sight of Ross begging Rachel to open the bedroom door.

Before anyone could step in and ask what was going on, Rachel swung the door open, face blotchy from crying and crimson with fury.

“Rach, come on—you gotta give me another chance.”

“No!” firmly exclaimed the brunette.

“No?”

“That’s what I said. No.”

Awkward, Chandler took a step closer to the door. “Look, maybe we should go—”

“No, you guys shouldn’t go, because Ross and I are done talking.”

“Rach, look, I know how this must—”

Holding up a hand, Rachel squared her jaw and coldly replied, “No, you don’t, Ross. Imagine… the worst things you’d think about yourself. Now, how would you feel if the one person that you trusted the most in the world not only thinks it too, but actually uses it as reasons not to be with you!”

Faltering, Ross stammered out, “No, but—but, see, I wanna be with you in spite of all those things.”

What an asshole, you thought.

Slowly, the five of you began inching to the door.

Anger flickered across her expression. “Oh, well, that’s mighty big of you, Ross.” She momentarily snapped her gaze towards you. “I said don’t go!” she barked.

All of you froze like deer in the headlights.

Voice breaking, Ross replied in a panicked manner, “You know… if—if things were the other way around, there is nothing that you could put on a list that would ever make me not want to be with you!”

Rachel’s tense shoulders dropped, as if she was totally and utterly done with this conversation. “Well, see, that’s the difference between us. I’d never make a list.”

With that, she shut the door in Ross’ face.

All of you stared, wide-eyed, as he slowly backed away from her bedroom, and sank down to slump on the coffee table.

“I never know how long you’re supposed to wait in this type of situation until you can talk again,” Joey whispered into your ear. You pinched his side, sending him a glare. “Oh, okay, I guess we’re waiting a bit longer, then.”

You wrapped the scarf tighter around your neck, blowing out a breath that misted into the cold air in front of you.

“Joey, slow down!” you called out, lightly jogging after the man who was practically sprinting down to the newspaper stand down the street. “They won’t be sold out of papers at one in the morning!”

“I’m just excited!” he exclaimed, grabbing your hand and yanking you along, much to your dismay. “I’ve never gotten reviewed before!”

“You were really great, Joe—I’m being serious! You make a good king,” you said genuinely, smiling at him when he halted in front of the stall, sending you a grateful grin. “Though, you might wanna consider wearing underwear next time—when you sat down everyone could see your uh… your royal subjects.”

You broke out into a fit of laughter, which you tried to hide away into coughing when Joey rolled his eyes and turned away from you.

Shucking a couple of coins from his mostly-empty wallet, he tossed them to the vendor and grabbed a couple papers, handing you one. The rest of the group caught up to the two of you moments later, taking a couple papers to see for themselves.

Your heart dropped upon reading the first few lines of the review. Sending a glance over at Joey, you could see his shoulders begin to droop.

“The only thing worse than the mindless adolescent direction is Joseph Tribbiani’s disturbingly unskilled portrayal of the king…” he mumbled, downtrodden.

Chandler clapped his roommate’s shoulder. “Hey, look, that’s just one douchebag’s opinion! Alright, Pheebs, read yours.”

The blonde perked up, clearing her throat before reading aloud, “The only thing worse than the mindless adolescent direction—”

“Alright, does anybody have a different paper?” intervened Chandler. “Ross, read yours.”

The taller man winced at the colorful insults on his paper, shooting Joey an apologetic glance. “I don’t think I want to.”

Huffing, Joey handed you his paper, and sank down onto the curb of the sidewalk, hanging his head.

“Oh, Joe,” you said, kneeling down beside him. “They don’t know what they’re talking about—critics always have a stick up their ass! They never know how to have fun and they’re always reviewing things with tunnel vision for snobbish pish-posh elegance that nobody gives a shit about!”

The Italian sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe they have a point. I’ve been doing this for ten years and I haven’t gotten anywhere! There’s gotta be a reason.”

Rachel reached out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Come on, Joey—”

“No, no, I’m quitting. It’s just too hard.”

The rest of you blanched at his sudden declaration, each of you erupting with protests.

When Joey just shook his head, you all fell silent, and you took his hand, holding it tight to your chest. “Joey, and I say this from the bottom of my heart, I really enjoyed your play. I know the critics don’t, but I had so much fun watching you, and I know the rest of the audience did, too. This might not mean anything to you, but I’m really proud of you. You’ve come a long way since you started, and you should be proud of yourself, too.”

Joey was silent for a moment. Then he looked to you, a glimmer of appreciation behind his irises. “Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot, it does.”

You grinned. “Alright. What does everyone say to midnight pizza?”

“It’s nearly two in the morning,” deadpanned Rachel, hiding a yawn behind her fist. When she saw Joey’s pouting face, she huffed, relenting. “Oh, fine, fine. But no pineapples!”

You sauntered into Joey and Chandler’s apartment, about to ask them if they wanted to go catch a movie starting in half an hour, but your question faltered on your tongue upon seeing Joey bustling in the kitchen, about two dozen jars of homemade marinara sauce strewn all over the counter. He was furiously chopping more tomatoes, looking as stressed as ever.

Blinking, you gently said his name, which made him grunt distantly in reply. You took a seat by the counter, reaching forward to swipe some marinara off his cheek and licked it off your thumb.

“Hm,” you said, pleasantly surprised. “That’s good, Joey! What’s all this for?”

Before he could respond, Chandler trudged out of his bedroom, rubbing the nap away from his droopy eyes, mumbling, “Italy called and said it was hungry.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t get the part, then?” you asked sympathetically, referring to the Days of Our Lives call-back audition he had earlier today that he simply couldn’t pass up, despite claiming that he quit being an actor no less than a week ago.

Your friend shook his head. “No, the part’s mine if I want it.”

Both you and Chandler blanched. “Oh, my God!”

“Yeah, well, that’s only if I’m willing to sleep with the casting lady,” huffed Joey.

“Oh…” you said, finally understanding his dilemma.

Joey nodded. “Ten years I’ve been waiting for a break like this. Ten years! I mean, Days of our Lives—that’s actually on television!”

“So… what are you gonna do?” asked Chandler, glancing to you and noticing your suddenly uncomfortable expression.

“I don’t know,” his roommate admitted. “I mean, I guess I could sleep with her…”

Clearing your throat, you pulled up your sleeve slightly to check your wristwatch, hastily getting up from the stool and heading for the door. “So sorry to leave, but I’ve got a movie to catch. So, uh, good luck with the, uh, the audition.” You winced, before awkwardly rushing out.

Chandler crossed his arms over his chest. “So what’s got you so stressed out? Is she pretty?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Joey reluctantly responded.

“Honestly surprised you haven’t slept with her already. Usually you’d jump at an opportunity like this. I mean, it’s not like you’re in love with anyone, so nothing’s really holding you back—” Chandler halted himself in his words. “Is this about Y/N? You never actually told them how you felt, did you—?”

Quick to cut him off, Joey snapped, “I’m not in love with Y/N!” Then, he hesitated, face screwing into one of confusion as he rinsed all the tomato juice off his hands. “At least… I don’t think I am. But anyways, this isn’t about them. I’ve never had to sleep with someone to get a job before.”

Obviously still dubious, Chandler just let out a little uhuh, and sat down by the counter. “Maybe this isn’t such a big deal, Joey. The way I see it, you get a great job, and you get to have sex with a nice girl!”

Joey’s shoulders dropped a little. “I just don’t think I want it that way, you know? Let’s say I make it—I’m always gonna wonder if it was because of my talent, or because of my dick!”

Chandler nodded. He was still quite miffed as to why Joey hadn’t already jumped on the opportunity, but he had a feeling it was because of—

“Can I tell you something?” asked Joey.

“Shoot.”

“I’ve barely been sleeping with anybody lately, I’m sure you’ve noticed—”

“I try to enjoy it while it lasts,” Chandler dryly replied. “Our walls are thin, you know.”

Rolling his eyes, Joey continued, “The last person I was properly dating was Melanie, and that felt like ages ago. And, uh… when I found out about Y/N and Rachel sleepin’ together it just kinda felt… I felt…”

“Jealous?”

Joey bit down on the inside of his cheek. “Yeah,” he reluctantly sighed out. “I don’t know. Maybe I am in love with Y/N.”

“Woah,” said Chandler, raising both hands in surprise as his eyes widened at Joey’s confession.

“Woah!” parroted Joey, matching his roommate’s energy. “I said maybe. Maybe! I don’t know yet!”

“No, I just… I didn’t think you’d… you know, I always had a feeling but I never really expected you to admit it. That’s, uh, that’s great, Joe! Are you gonna tell them?”

Joey had to admit, he was absolutely terrified at the prospect of confessing his feelings to you. Usually, he wasn’t afraid of rejection because it never really was something he had to worry about but with you—he never, ever wanted to lose you. The very idea of not being friends with you anymore ripped him apart to pieces.

But he had to try, didn��t he?

“Yeah,” replied Joey, glancing down at all the marinara he’d made, thinking back to the way you’d gently swiped some sauce off of his cheek. “I think I will.”

Joey whistled happily as he strode down the halls of the physics institution, not even caring that he’d walked into the wrong room three times in a row (the scientists in the second lab definitely weren’t happy with that), before finally finding your office. He’d gotten the job—without sleeping with the casting agent—and since you were so busy with work, he thought he’d stop by and tell you the good news because he just couldn’t wait until you got off.

Though, now that he stood in front of your door, he wished he’d waited.

Because then he wouldn’t have to see you with Connor—and how the two of you seemed awfully close, with his hand settled over your hip and yours gripping the front of his shirt as the two of you spoke lowly to each other.

A part of Joey wanted to turn tail and run, but he found himself rooted to the spot, mouth opening and closing silently.

Finally, you caught sight of him in the doorway, and you practically sprang away from Connor, eyes wide and expression coloring with shock.

“Joey! What are you doing here?” you asked, slightly breathless and evidently flustered.

The excitement he once felt began to dwindle away the longer he stood there, grappling for words. “I, uh… just wanted to come by and see how you’re doing! But I see you’re pretty busy and, uhm, I’m just gonna get going now! Bye!” With that, he turned on his heel and sprinted out of your office, before you could even begin to protest.

“That was weird,” said Connor, mildly confused. “What’s up with your friend?”

You stared at the open doorway for a second longer, brows furrowed. “I don’t know,” you replied distantly, before turning back to him with a smile. “Now, where were we?”

Later that night, Monica had invited everyone over to play some board games and drink a little bit of wine she’d been saving for over a year by now. You were glad for the break, having exhausted yourself working for the past few days.

Halfway through your third round of Monopoly (the last two rounds had to be halted because Ross and Phoebe looked like they were about to tear each other’s throats out), Joey excused himself to take a quick breather on the balcony, and you followed suit after making sure Chandler wouldn’t steal any of your fake Monopoly money. As you were clambering out the window to join him, you caught sight of Chandler sneaking some of your dollar bills into his stack, and you rolled your eyes but let it go anyway.

“Hey,” you murmured, nudging Joey’s side with your elbow. “You okay? It’s cold out here.”

“Yeah,” he replied, smiling down at you briefly, though you noticed that it didn’t truly reach his eyes. “Just… thinking.”

A soft hum fell from you. “That doesn’t happen often, huh? What about?” You leaned your head against his shoulder, tilting your gaze up to New York’s starless night skies. The moon shone dimly behind a hazy city smog, one that seemed to never lift this time of year.

“I got the part,” he said.

“Oh, my God,” you whispered, pulling away for a second to stare at him with parted lips. “That’s amazing, Joey, congrats! I’m really proud of you, you know that?”

Something sickly twisted in his stomach at your words. “Thanks, Y/N.”

You settled back down against his shoulder, stray strands of your hair tickling his cheek. “So did you sleep with the casting agent? I won’t judge if you did, I promise.”

There was a short pause before he responded, a little hesitantly, “Nah—I was offered the part because I refused to sleep with them. I guess they liked my guts and wanted me in the show.”

You lifted your head to grin at him, nose wrinkling fondly. It did Joey’s heart no favors when you leaned forward and pressed a chaste, friendly kiss to his cheek, before resting your head back down. He inhaled sharply, the smell of your blueberry-scented shampoo making his chest ache with an itch that he just couldn’t seem to scratch away.

“Why didn’t you do it?” you asked, cold fingers moving down his arm to lace with his. “Sleep with the casting agent, that is.”

“Well… I don’t want to make up my career through sex and sex alone,” he said, carefully avoiding the glaringly obvious other reason why. “I would want to know at least some of it was because of my talent.”

You hummed again. The two of you lapsed into a comfortable silence. From the distance, a car honked.

“What… uh, what were you and Connor doin’ earlier today when I came by?” he asked, trying to play it cool.

“Oh, he was just there to ask for some advice on his research paper. He just got a little flirty, really, nothing happened between us—it was nice and all, but… oh, I don’t know. I just don’t think I’m really looking for a serious relationship right now.”

Joey could feel his heart crumble into a million pieces and fall through the gaps between his ribs. Well, there goes any prospect of confessing his feelings to you tonight. He supposed it was for the better—if you’d rejected him, Joey didn’t think he could ever properly look you in the eye again and just continue to be friends as if nothing had happened.

“Oh,” he said, voice cracking minutely. “Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s okay,” you told him genuinely, fondness seeping through your tone. “I’ve got great friends.”

“Yeah,” said Joey, lifting an arm to sling around your waist to give you a loose side-hug. If he couldn’t be with you in a romantic relationship, he was more than willing to be with you in a platonic one.

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