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elix8r · 2 months

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Monkey Bars (sjy) Part 2

PART ONE

PAIRING: jake sim x fem!reader

GENRES: smut, angst (so much in this part), college au, frat au, enemies to lovers, exes to lovers

WARNINGS (for this part): profanity, underage drinking, violence, depression, so much slut shaming, kind of toxic relationship?, lots of crying and emotions, mentions of sex tape, unprotected sex, fingering, soft sex, victim blaming

SUMMARY: Jake Sim was like the epitome of the perfect fourth-grade boyfriend. He had it all – being a year older automatically put him on the cool list (which in turn also boosted your popularity), genuinely kind, and very cute. But then, the earth-shattering truth that he was a two-timing cheater hit you like a ton of bricks. You caught him red-handed, holding another girl's hand and it devastated you beyond measure. So of course, in your nine-year-old mind, there was only one deserving punishment – a forceful push off the monkey bars during recess, resulting in a broken arm.

And so, the battle lines were drawn. You and Jake became sworn enemies, a feud that carried on even into college. You saw him as a total fuckboy who always knew how to get under your skin, while he saw you as a snobby bitch who thought she was better than everyone else. But fate, in its twisted sense of humor, had other plans. Out of a class brimming with a hundred other possibilities, it was Jake who ended up being your assigned partner.

Clearly, the world had favorites and you weren’t on that list.

WORD COUNT: 18.1k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i know it’s been almost a year since the first part came out and so much has happened since then but seriously thank you to everyone who waited patiently for this it really means so much to me that this story was loved as much as it was and i hope this last part doesn’t disappoint! seriously love you guys so much and enjoy! 🫶

THE FRAT DIARIES MASTERLIST

GLOSSARY

You didn’t really know how the rest of the weekend went. In fact, you weren’t even sure what day of the week it was, but honestly, that was the least of your worries. Since Friday, you had been holed up in your room, refusing to leave your bed. After running out of the bar, it was as if you lost all your memory. You had a hard time recollecting everything when you woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and swollen eyes.

According to Wonyoung, when she and Lily followed you out, you were in a state of absolute hysteria, hunched over on the streets, and dry heaving. Niki and Jungwon had stayed behind, and while you were trying to get away, Jungwon had apparently threw a punch, resulting in both of them getting kicked out. But neither of them cared. They came out of the bar seething with anger, not only with how the three boys treated you but also with the realization of what one of their own brothers had done to you. It was as if your body shut down, and Niki ultimately had to carry you back to your dorm. Since then, you haven't left the comfort of your bed.

Throughout the weekend, Wonyoung made sure you were left alone and took charge of your phone, shielding you from any more heartbreaking news. She couldn't bring herself to disclose the truth to you, knowing that what you had assumed was indeed true, and the reality was even more devastating than she had feared. A video was circulating, spreading like wildfire, and it seemed that a large portion of the school had already gotten ahold of it.

Your best friend had also held back in revealing that she had marched over to Epsilon Nu after tucking you in on Friday night and ended up getting AES banned from the EpNu house for the rest of the semester. None of your sisters seemed to care though as they were quick to stand in solidarity with you and wanted no association with their former brother fraternity. In fact, Yeji (AES’ President) had called an emergency meeting the next morning, which you were obviously absent from, to address the severity of this situation and how no one was to engage with the fraternity for the remainder of the semester. Once again, none of your sorority sisters seemed to protest as they all praised Wonyoung for the actions she had taken.

Wonyoung was never one for violence, but upon discovering what Jake had done to you, her sister, best friend, and soulmate, she felt an overwhelming need for him to face the consequences. Jungwon, of course, did his best to reason with her, urging her not to make any rash decisions, but Niki stood firmly in support of Wonyoung's impending actions.

Jake had just put the final touches on your shared project before submitting it when his door was forcefully thrown open. Jay, startled from his slumber on the other side of the room, was bewildered but still groggy. Jake, however, recognized the situation the moment he saw Wonyoung's face twisted in absolute fury. He was too slow to react as she delivered a resounding slap across his cheek, setting off a chain of chaos. Jay was now fully awakened as Jungwon tried to restrain Wonyoung, and Niki stood in the doorway, glaring at Jake. Despite Jungwon's efforts, Wonyoung effortlessly broke free from his grasp and landed a solid punch on Jake’s face, causing him to be met with a searingly painful sensation. The commotion attracted the attention of several of his fraternity brothers, who rushed over to assess the situation. The sight that greeted them was far from what they had anticipated.

Jay and Jungwon struggled to hold back Wonyoung, who had turned feral, screaming and attempting to break free in order to continue her assault on the boy now bleeding on the floor. Jake made no attempt to fight back or escape; he simply absorbed the blows, unable to meet anyone's gaze as guilt washed over him. He knew that once the truth about his actions became known to everyone, he would be left with nothing.

It took the combined effort of about five boys to finally restrain Wonyoung, but by then, the entire house had caught wind of the incident through her passionate outbursts. The piercing looks Jake received from his fraternity brothers only intensified his overwhelming sense of shame. He was immediately summoned into Heeseung's room for an impromptu meeting to address the situation.

"What the actual fuck, Jake!" Heeseung's disbelief was eclipsed by his anger. While Jake had always been one of the more unruly members of the fraternity, this crossed a line that even Heeseung couldn't fathom.

Jake pressed a towel to his still-bleeding nose, remaining silent with his eyes fixed on the floor.

“Jesus fucking Christ so you’re just not going to say anything?” Heeseung scoffed at Jake’s lack of response as he paced around his room. Then, the door opened revealing Taehyun who was in charge of risk management. He entered in silence as he eyed Jake before turning to Heeseung.

“Soobin thinks you should call Yeji. Wonyoung’s having to be guarded by like five people. She’s crazy like she just yanked Sunghoon by his hair and threw him across the room like he was nothing, it was actually insane. The guys are kind of scared, what do you want me to do?” Taehyun’s normally big eyes were even wider as he informed EpNu’s president of their current situation.

Heeseung, obviously stressed, exhaled really loudly and combed through his hair. “I’ll handle her and I’m calling Yeji right now. Can you take care of him? I’ll send Yeonjun up to help.” He shot Jake one last look before leaving.

After Heeseung departed, the room fell into an eerie silence. In contrast to Heeseung's exasperation, Taehyun remained ominously quiet as he took a seat at Heeseung's desk. His unwavering stare fixed on Jake, and as mentioned earlier, Taehyun had a menacing aura when angered, which sent waves of terror through Jake.

"Is it true? What Wonyoung is accusing you of?" Taehyun's voice was cold, devoid of any sympathy for the bleeding boy.

Jake finally mustered the courage to meet Taehyun's gaze. Every fiber of his being urged him to avert his eyes, yet this time he decided to speak up. "Kind of."

Taehyun scoffed, unsatisfied with his response. "What the fuck does that mean? It's a yes or no question."

As Jake opened his mouth to reply, the door burst open, revealing a tall figure. Unlike Taehyun's icy glare, Yeonjun exuded an entirely different energy. He appeared visibly angered. "Did you fucking do it?"

"He says he 'kind of' did it, whatever that means," Taehyun informed the older male, rolling his eyes in Jake's direction.

Yeonjun narrowed his eyes, casting his gaze downward at Jake, both literally and figuratively, as he stood towering over him while Jake remained seated on the bed. "Alright, then what does that mean?"

Jake felt as though he was trapped in an interrogation room, suffocating under the weight of their scrutinizing stares. "I didn't intentionally share the videos. Some of the guys got hold of them and sent them in a groupchat to everyone during practice."

"So it's not your fault that they were leaked, then?" Yeonjun probed further, his confusion evident as he questioned why Jake bore a guilty expression.

Jake let out a heavy sigh before finally confessing, "Yeah, it's not entirely my fault when the videos first leaked, but I didn't do enough to shut it down. I don't know what came over me, but they kept pushing me to show more, and then Jeongin said some things that angered me, so I ended up giving them what they wanted. I thought they would drop it after that, but instead, they started treating me like some sort of god or something, and my ego got the better of me, so I let it continue. Even at that moment, I knew it was messed up, but for some reason, I couldn't stop myself. I just never expected them to confront her about it."

As Taehyun and Yeonjun absorbed Jake's explanation, their demeanors shifted dramatically. Taehyun stood up, seething with anger as Jake finished speaking. "You didn't think they would go after her and harass her about it? Are you seriously that fucking naive? They literally witnessed her most intimate moments, so of course, they targeted her! Unlike us, girls are constantly slut-shamed even for being even the slightest sexual!"

Taehyun practically screamed at Jake, unable to comprehend how he could have been so oblivious to the consequences his actions would have on you. Taehyun struggled to restrain himself from physically attacking Jake, his rage barely contained.

"Jesus, Jake. Taehyun is right. What the fuck were you thinking? Did you ever stop to consider Y/N? Fuck, man. Now you're going to face the repercussions of all this because you’ve really crossed the line this time." As the words of his friends echoed in his mind, Jake couldn't help but long for a chance to turn back time and undo everything.

3 days ago…

When Jake handed his unlocked phone to Eric and Jeongin so they could add their orders to the team's food delivery, he hadn't considered that they would have full access to his phone. He should have sensed trouble when he noticed them laughing loudly in the corner of the locker room. But it wasn't until he heard the sound of text notifications coming from nearby phones that he frowned, realizing the messages were from their group chat.

Reactions varied among the team. Some huddled together, laughing, while others stared at him with varying degrees of confusion, disgust, and amusement. It wasn't until Jisung approached him, asking if he had intended to send the video, that Jake's confusion deepened. Then he heard a familiar sound emanating from a nearby phone, and it dawned on him what had happened. Jake immediately stormed toward them, ready to unleash his anger for invading his privacy and sharing his private videos. But before he could even open his mouth, Jeongin beat him to the punch.

"Jesus, Jake. She doesn't even look like she's enjoying it. I mean look at you. Like this is kind of embarrassing. Clearly having a high body count means nothing by the way you’re fucking."

Jeongin and Jake had never had a good relationship, stemming from an incident during Jake's freshman year when he unknowingly slept with Jeongin's (now ex) girlfriend. Since then, Jeongin had harbored animosity toward Jake, and Jake wasn't about to let him win this time. Without thinking, he did the only thing he believed could counter Jeongin's words.

In an escalating frenzy, Jake's teammates gathered around him as he sat on one of the benches, pulling up a more recent video of the two of you having sex. The explicit video played, filling the locker room with the sound of your loud moans as you sported a fucked out expression while Jake wrapped his free hand tightly around your neck. It became evident, through the videos Jake displayed, that Jeongin had been mistaken. However, Jake hadn't considered the consequences of defending his ego. In his attempt to assert himself, he inadvertently exposed you to a vulnerable position. The initial high he experienced over the following days gradually faded as he came to terms with the gravity of his actions. Furthermore, he had forgotten about the widespread distribution of the videos. Before he could even begin to address his mistakes, it seemed that everything had already spiraled out of control.

While Jungwon had been the first to intervene between Jake and Wonyoung, it wasn't out of concern for Jake's well-being. He was actually holding Wonyoung back to prevent her from getting into trouble. He couldn't care less about Jake right now after all that had happened tonight, and he was relieved that Jake wasn't his big as this situation could have been even more devastating. Instead, he was stuck with the fool on the other side of the room, pathetically nursing his head (Jungwon was sure Sunghoon was actually crying), while Jay inspected it to ensure that Wonyoung hadn't actually scalped him. Still, he would prefer Sunghoon any day over Jake—poor Niki.

However, Jungwon had to admit that his girlfriend was quite terrifying when she was angry. His gaze drifted over to the head-shaped hole in the living room wall, a result of Sunghoon's head being smashed into it by Wonyoung. She had also kicked poor innocent Huening Kai in the stomach during her attempts to break free, and Sunoo appeared disheveled and exhausted from his own encounter with her that he narrowly escaped unscathed. Since then, Wonyoung had calmed down significantly, but everyone remained on guard as if she were a rabid dog that could unpredictably go wild again.

When Heeseung finally entered the living room after informing Yeji of the incident at the house, he took in the scene before him. It almost resembled a battlefield, with everyone tending to their wounds. In any other situation, he might have found it somewhat amusing, but right now, he had too much on his plate to find humor in it.

"Hey Wonyoung, Jungwon, and Niki, can we talk? The rest of you can go back to sleep. I'll speak with you guys in the morning," he addressed the three individuals who were present at the bar. Each of them displayed a range of emotions, with Wonyoung's anger being the most apparent on her face.

Jungwon and Niki nodded in agreement, while Wonyoung seemed unwilling to move from her spot on the couch. With some coaxing from her boyfriend, however, she reluctantly got up and followed them.

The four of them entered the kitchen for more privacy, and Heeseung let out a sigh before delivering the news. "I just spoke with Yeji, and unfortunately, due to the violence you showed towards multiple brothers tonight, AES will be banned from the house until the end of the semester. I’m sorry and I want to let you know that this isn’t at all what I wanted cause I know the reasons behind your actions, but I can’t go against the rules. We'll have time to discuss what will happen next during the break."

Wonyoung couldn't care less about the news. In fact, she was relieved that none of her sisters would have to come into contact with Jake.

"I need to talk to you three about what happened at the bar. I'll be having a more detailed conversation with Jake, but I want to know the full extent of what occurred," Heeseung's voice was stern, and it was perhaps the most serious Jungwon and Niki had ever seen their president.

"It was just three assholes who approached us while we were out and started harassing Y/N. She had no idea what they were talking about, and they assumed Jake had already shown us videos. He obviously hadn’t though so we were confused, but they were so fucking disrespectful towards her," Niki recounted, his brows furrowed and a look of disgust on his face as he recalled the degrading treatment his friend had endured.

This was exactly what Heeseung had feared, as he didn't know if any of the Epsilon Nu boys were involved in the incident. "I'll have to conduct a thorough investigation with Taehyun and Yeonjun over the next week to ensure that no one else was involved. Niki, I know you're Jake's little, and he may not have mentioned this to you, but it doesn't mean he hasn't discussed it with Jay, Sunghoon, or any of the other guys."

Wonyoung's face twisted in anger at Heeseung's words. The mere possibility that some of the EpNu boys could have been involved only fueled her diminishing fury. "Heeseung, I swear, if you find out that Jake had been showing those videos to the boys, I won't give a shit about your stupid fucking ban. I will kill them," she declared, her threat laced with genuine conviction. Wonyoung meant every word. Too many of her loved ones were connected to the boys of EpNu, and if she discovered any of them had prior knowledge of Jake's actions, she would unleash her wrath upon them without hesitation.

Heeseung understood the gravity of Wonyoung's words, knowing full well what she was capable of especially after tonight. He simply nodded silently. "It's getting late, Wonyoung. You should go back to your dorm," he sighed, rubbing his head in exasperation before he addressed her once again, this time expressing his remorse. "And I'm sorry about what Jake did to Y/N. I can't even begin to imagine what she's going through. I understand why you did what you did tonight. I'm not supposed to praise you for punching Jake, and I truly am not, but I want you to know that he will face the consequences he deserves."

His words hung heavily in the air as the three of them absorbed their weight, comprehending its significance and the gravity of Jake's actions. Wonyoung locked eyes with Heeseung, scrutinizing them to ensure he wasn't lying. Satisfied with what she saw, she gave him a firm nod and finally made her way out of the house, with Jungwon following closely behind.

By the following morning, before the sun had even risen, news of the incident had spread among your sorority sisters like wildfire. Their anger surpassed any imaginable limit, prompting many of them to march down to the EpNu house, demanding to confront Jake. Unfortunately, their attempts were in vain, leaving them to seek alternative means of seeking justice for their sister.

Winter, true to her earlier threat, didn't back down. Unable to physically harm Jake, she devised a different plan to inflict pain. With the assistance of Giselle, the sorority's Vice President of Public Relations, they composed an exposé letter, which was then published on AES' public Instagram account, boasting a substantial following of 10k. The letter called out Jake by his full name and provided enough details, carefully avoiding disclosing your identity as the victim, to shed light on his actions. Its publication sparked a significant reaction within the HybeU community, with all the sisters reposting the letter. This, in turn, flooded Jake's and EpNu's social media accounts with a deluge of hate comments, reaching such an overwhelming level that they had to disable their comments section a letter of their own in response.

Monday arrived, and it came as no surprise that both you and Jake were absent from campus. Your friends managed to coax you out of bed for some breakfast, but the weight of the situation hit you hard as you tearfully picked at your pancakes. Despite the comforting hugs from your friends, the overwhelming sense of shame and regret still consumed you.

Lying on Winter's bed at the AES house, with Wonyoung across from you on her own big's bed, you felt a sense of solace in their presence. It was a natural occurrence for the four of you to hang out like this, given that your bigs were also best friends.

Winter broke the silence with a question, "Have you considered actually taking legal action?"

Honestly, amidst the chaos of dealing with the invasion of your privacy and its fallout, the idea of seeking retribution against Jake hadn't crossed your mind. While you were aware of the intense public scrutiny and the ostracization Jake was facing due to the public outing by your sorority and friends, you had barely had a moment to think about anything beyond handling the aftermath.

"No, not really," you replied, your brows furrowing in thought. "I mean, is there even anything I could report him to the police for?"

"You should, there's bound to be something they could charge him with. Like, at the very least for invasion of privacy, right?" Wonyoung's eyes widened with seriousness as she sat up from her bed, interjecting into the conversation.

Wonyoung’s big nodded in agreement with her little, "Yeah, there's definitely legal grounds for action. This whole situation is fucked up, and there's no way he should get off this easily."

You let out a sigh, feeling a headache starting to form at the mere thought of the complex legalities involved. "It's just so complicated. Plus, haven't we heard enough stories of things like this happening to girls, and even when they speak up, the police don't do anything? It's like I'd have to go through all this with no guarantee of justice at the end."

"There's no fucking way Jake's getting away with this. I mean, sure, everyone's hating on him right now, but give it time. After the break, they'll move on, and he'll be back to his normal life like he didn't just violate you. Meanwhile, you're gonna be forever stuck knowing those assholes have videos of you in your most vulnerable state. It's just not right," Winter vented, frustration evident in her tone. The idea of Jake seemingly escaping consequences fueled an indescribable anger within everyone present.

“Does the school know?” Winter’s roommate asked.

You shrugged in response, "I'm not sure, maybe? AES' post blew up, so it might've caught the attention of the administrators. But if they know anything, they haven't said anything about it."

"Okay, well then let's make sure they know. They'll be obligated to take action if you file an official complaint. We have proof and everything, so if they don't do something, the backlash will be insane," Wonyoung declared, already in action as she reached for her computer to draft the email.

"Wait, wait, wait. I'm not so sure about this," you interjected, your mind suddenly conflicted.

"What do you mean?" Winter chimed in, puzzled by your hesitation.

"I..." You hesitated, struggling to articulate the whirlwind of emotions inside you. "What if he gets like expelled?"

Wonyoung's big wore a baffled expression. "What do you mean 'if he gets expelled'? That's what he deserves! He probably deserves that and more."

The girls nodded in agreement, but your emotions were in turmoil, and you couldn't pinpoint why you weren't fully on board with delivering the harshest punishment to Jake. It felt utterly stupid; you knew you deserved justice for everythin he put you through, yet you couldn't shake the discomfort of potentially derailing his entire future.

"I don't know, I need time to think about this. I appreciate it, but give me some time," you said, offering them a tight smile that betrayed your inner turmoil. With that, you gathered your things and headed for the door. "I'll catch up with you guys later."

The rest of the day unfolded in the library, where you desperately tried to catch up on missed classes and prepare for looming finals. Yet, your grades felt like the least of your worries as your mind continuously circled back to the revenge plan your friends had suggested. The desire for retribution burned within you, but something held you back.

Frustrated and overwhelmed, you sighed heavily and rested your head on the table, closing your eyes in an attempt to alleviate the pounding headache. However, as you lay there, you couldn't ignore the faint whispering emanating from behind the bookshelves nearby.

"That's her, right?" The hushed voices reached your ears, stirring a sense of unease within you.

"Yeah, it's definitely her. I've seen her at one of those EpNu parties, always with her little clique. That sorority thinks they're hot shit, but turns out they're just dirty sluts. I mean apparently she’s been run through by most of that frat," one voice remarked, failing miserably at keeping their tone down.

Your heart sank as you realized they were talking about you, and the other voice chimed in just as indiscreetly, "I'm not surprised. I heard even before her sex tape got leaked that she had a foursome with Jake, Sunghoon, and Jay. So, it’s probably true."

A heavy lump formed in your throat as you struggled to contain the surge of emotions welling up inside you. Clenching your jaw to stifle the rising anger, you continued to lie there, desperate to hear more of their conversation. It fucking hurt, but you wanted to know what people were saying about you.

"What a fucking whore. Isn't she embarrassed? I remember crying when I didn't get asked back to AES during rush, but now I'm so glad, 'cause they're probably all like her. So much for being a ‘top house’," the voices continued, each word feeling like a dagger to your heart.

"Yeah, I’m gonna take not getting into AES as a blessing in disguise. It seems like they only go after sluts, super fucking classy. I'd be mortified if I were her parents. Did you see her trying to play the victim card? Apparently Jake's getting all the blame, but that's bullshit because she clearly played a part in making those videos," the girl's disdain dripped from her words.

"Ugh, yeah, I kind of feel sorry for him. Everyone's been treating him like shit and icing him out, but what about her? That video was disgusting; the stuff they were doing were insane, and she looked so proud of it. It's gross," the other girl chimed in, their voices laced with mockery as they burst into giggles.

Unable to bear another moment of their cruel gossip, you abruptly gathered your belongings, stuffing them into your bag, and stormed out of the library, your emotions raw and turmoil consuming your thoughts.

Was this how people saw you now? You didn't even know them, yet they felt entitled to make all sorts of assumptions about you. The weight of their cruel assumptions pressed down on you, leaving you reeling with a mix of anger and hurt. As you waited for the bus, you clenched your fists, willing yourself to hold back the tears threatening to spill. You were beyond pissed off, and any lingering hesitation about going after Jake's academic career evaporated in an instant.

The moment you stepped into your dorm, you wasted no time in grabbing your laptop, your fingers flying across the keyboard as you poured your emotions into a lengthy email to the administration.

Jake was going to fucking pay—no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

Jake emerged from a private meeting with Heeseung and Yeonjun, feeling a profound sense of dissapointment and carrying a heavy burden on his shoulders. The repercussions of his actions had cast Epsilon Nu under intense scrutiny for the past few days, particularly due to the widespread awareness created by your sorority's Instagram post. The executive members of Epsilon Nu were in a frenzy, working tirelessly to address and rectify the fallout caused by Jake's behavior. It was abundantly clear to everyone involved that distancing the fraternity from Jake, at least for the time being, was not only necessary but also non-negotiable.

Fortunately for Jake, his membership as an Epsilon Nu brother hadn't been terminated, although he knew that many of the boys would probably have preferred that outcome. Heeseung explained that since the incident wasn't directly linked to the fraternity, they didn't have grounds to kick him out, but he had been placed on probation instead.

Despite the leniency shown, being an Epsilon Nu had been a source of pride for Jake so with the official announcement of his probation until the end of the school year, he felt a profound sense of loss and disorientation. The consequences he faced were still significant, as he was stripped of his participation in any EpNu coordinated events and denied the opportunity to reside at the house for the remainder of the year. Additionally, he was prohibited from wearing or engaging in anything that associated him with the fraternity during his probationary period. Still Yeonjun made sure to emphasize how lucky he was to not be kicked out and how they would allow him to live in the house until the semester ended due to it only being a couple weeks away.

He had of course anticipated some form of punishment from his fraternity, but what he hadn't expected was an email from the Dean’s Office sitting in his inbox. As he opened it and read its contents, his heart sank and what felt like panic started to creep up. He was summoned to meet with the Dean the following day to discuss his actions and the disciplinary measures the school intended to take. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on him as he contemplated the impending consequences of his actions.

While he wasn’t the exact person who had sent out the videos, there still was proof that it came from his phone. Plus, he was a willing participant in showing more content to his teammates and overall did nothing to shut any of it down. So of course, the next morning as he was sat in front of the Dean, he was sweating nervously with anxiety coursing through him at a rapid pace.

The Dean wore a stern expression and barely acknowledged Jake's entrance, engrossed in the paperwork before him. A heavy silence hung in the room until the Dean let out a loud sigh, removed his glasses, and finally locked eyes with Jake.

"Mr. Sim, we are here today due to a troubling letter I received from one of your classmates, containing serious accusations against you. Upon an investigation by the university, it has come to light that you not only played a significant role in this incident but that it has gained significant public attention. In fact, even President Bang is now aware of the situation," the Dean stated, causing Jake's anxiety to intensify. The thought of the President knowing about his actions made him feel sick.

Without offering respite, the Dean continued, "This puts the university in an extremely difficult position, as it highlights our failure to protect our students. Consequently, certain actions need to be taken regarding your standing here. After thorough deliberation, the council and I have decided to place you on probation. This means you can continue attending classes but will be suspended from all other activities. I have already been made aware of your current status from your fraternity and must inform you that you will also be suspended from the soccer team until the next season. Your probation period will extend until the next academic year. Any further policy violations may result in suspension or even expulsion. Additionally, this disciplinary action will be recorded on your academic record, which may impact your future pursuits. While you have the right to appeal this decision, Mr. Sim, I must emphasize that the evidence against you is substantial, casting doubt on the success of your appeal."

Being a student at Hybe University had been Jake's lifelong dream, and now he found himself in a position that he never could have imagined himself in. The consequences he faced far exceeded anything he had ever imagined. He had risked everything for the mere approval of his teammates (ones that he honestly didn’t even care that much about), and the realization left him feeling utterly devastated.

"I should also mention that we have received additional information from one of your teammates who was present at the incident, providing details about other individuals involved. They too will face consequences for their actions. Know that we are taking this matter extremely seriously. By winter break, your parents alongside Y/N’s will be sent a letter fully disclosing everything that I discussed with you today to ensure that they are made aware of your status along with everything else. That will be all, and I expect to see you again at the end of your probation period." The Dean seemed unwilling to entertain any further discussion, promptly escorting Jake out after delivering the news.

Feeling numb and overwhelmed, Jake struggled to comprehend the gravity of his situation as he made his way back to the house. It was a profound realization that not only was he in disfavor with the school, but he had also lost his position as a soccer player. A series of poor choices had completely upended his life. While he understood that he would still be able to attend classes and, once his probation period ended, could potentially return to his fraternity and the soccer team, he couldn't shake the feeling that things would never be the same. The possibility of holding a leadership position within Epsilon Nu now seemed out of reach, and the dream of becoming team captain had evaporated.

Amidst all the turmoil, Jake was also dealing with the dread of having to return back to the EpNu house. However, he had no other options; it was the only place he could go. What was once a sanctuary now felt like a confining prison he was compelled to enter.

Since Friday night, Jake had been met with glares and stony silence. He was only spoken to when necessary, and his presence seemed an unwelcomed one. Some of the guys didn't hesitate to voice their opinions and disgust towards him, while others acted as if he didn't exist at all. He wasn't sure which was worse. It hurt, but he knew he had brought it upon himself. He had no right to expect sympathy from his brothers after what he had done.

Jay had resorted to crashing in different rooms, avoiding any proximity with Jake while Sunghoon (who had been concussed during Wonyoung's attack) was outright ignoring him. Even Niki, who used to stick by his side everywhere, was distancing himself and seeking solace in the company of other fraternity members. Jake couldn't blame them; he knew a simple apology wouldn't solve anything this time. The Epsilon Nu boys were rightfully bitter and upset. They now had to face the wrath of the rest of the student body for their association with Jake, and they knew rebuilding their reputation would be an uphill battle.

Despite the circumstances, the EpNu boys stood by your side. While they knew Jake's actions weren't their responsibility, they continued to show their remorse through various gestures. When you returned back to your dorm, you were greeted with an abundance of flowers and baskets filled with your favorite treats, all signed by Epsilon Nu. Yeji had mentioned that the flowers had also been sent to the house as well. Some of Jake's closest friends, such as Niki, Sunghoon, Jay, and even Heeseung, even personally approached you to express their apologies and accompanied you to your classes to make sure you weren’t being harassed by anyone. However, while you appreciated their efforts, you knew that nothing could erase the pain you still felt.

"Jesus, this morning I even woke up to Jay screaming because Taehyun apparently stepped on him while trying to go to the bathroom! I mean, what did he expect from sleeping on the floor?" Beomgyu ranted about the changed dynamics within the EpNu house since Jake's probation was revealed. Jay had been avoiding Jake by crashing in either Beomgyu and Taehyun's room or Sunghoon's every night.

With finals week approaching, you finally decided to take up Beomgyu's offer to study together. It was quite different from your study sessions with Jake, where you would mostly study in silence and occasionally seek help from each other. Instead, you and Beomgyu seemed to prioritize chatting with your textbooks mostly on the back burner. Since the whole STD incident, you had actually become quite good friends with Beomgyu. He was kind and funny not to mention quite easy on the eyes so his presence in your life was a welcomed change. He was also one of the first to reach out to you, expressing his disgust at what Jake had done and trying to cheer you up.

"Poor Jay, at this point, wouldn't it be best to just kick Jake out of the house? I mean, he won't even be living there when January rolls around." You were fully aware of Jake's status with his fraternity and the school, and while you should technically be happy with his punishment, the anticipated joy never surfaced. Instead, you were still engulfed in feelings of betrayal and hurt.

"That's exactly what I'm saying! None of us want him around, and the whole vibe in the house is fucked up now. I mean he’s probably going to fail all his classes cause he doesn't even seem to be attending any so he might as well just move back home." Beomgyu's eyes sparked with frustration as he voiced his concerns. Although he had already been on shaky terms with Jake, even after his apology, Beomgyu now believed that their relationship had an extremely slim chance of returning to how it was at the beginning of the year.

"Ugh, I'm so sorry, Beomgyu. It's terrible that all of you guys have to deal with this." You genuinely empathized with the boys. While you had been the main victim in Jake's actions, there was no denying that everyone around him had also been affected.

As soon as Beomgyu heard your words, he quickly shook his head in disagreement. "Y/N, I told you it's not your fault! Seriously, stop blaming yourself for this." You knew he was right, but despite that, tears welled up in your eyes, and you realized that the guilt you felt wouldn't disappear anytime soon.

In the bustling atmosphere of the cafe, you sniffled and looked down at your lap, hoping to stop the tears. However, Beomgyu reached out and gently took your hand in his, causing you to look back up at him. "I know you've been saying that you're doing a bit better now, but I can't imagine it being that easy. This isn't something you can just get over in an instant. You've known him your whole life, and I know your relationship was rough. But that doesn't mean the pain will be any less."

A tear escaped as it streamed down your face while you absorbed his words. He was right—things weren't okay, and the journey to healing would be long and challenging. But you had no choice but to move forward.

"I know you're closer to Wonyoung and Winter, and you have the support of your other sisters, but I genuinely mean it when I say that I'm here for you. Plus, it seems like your skills in physics are even worse than I thought, so I'm sure you'll need my help." True to Beomgyu's nature, he effortlessly made you burst into laughter amidst your tears. You knew this was his way of trying to cheer you up and it was working.

"Thank you, seriously." You expressed your gratitude sincerely, sharing a smile with him. His words, even if only a little, warmed your heart.

The rest of your study session went as before, with both of you laughing and attempting to get some work done. The joyful mood continued even as Beomgyu walked you back to your dorm after deciding to call it a day. However, the moment you reached the steps of your dorm, the atmosphere quickly changed.

From a distance, you could see a figure sitting at the bottom of the stairs leading to the entrance. As you approached, your anxiety grew, and you realized who it was.

"Oh, fuck no." Beomgyu seemed equally unamused by the unexpected encounter. Jake looked up as he heard footsteps approaching.

Immediately, Beomgyu stepped in front of you, attempting to shield you from Jake. Though partially blocked, you caught a glimpse of him. While you couldn't recall exactly how he looked the last time you saw him, you knew for sure that he didn't look nearly as bad as he did now. You almost couldn’t recognize him as his usual smirk and playful glimmer in his eyes were now no longer able to be found and instead replaced with sunken features that made him look as if he hadn’t slept for days.

"Hey, guys..." Jake didn't know what else to say. He hadn't expected to see Beomgyu with you, and he instantly knew that talking to you seemed even more impossible.

He took a step forward but was quickly stopped as Beomgyu pushed him back with his free hand while still holding you protectively behind him. "What the actual fuck do you think you're doing here?"

Even from behind, you could sense Beomgyu's anger vibrating in his voice. You, too, felt shaken, but for different reasons. Panic was creeping in, now familiar friends of yours since you were sure they seemed to be visiting you more frequently since the discovery of the leaked videos.

"Y/N..." Jake's voice called out your name, and you felt nauseous.

"No, seriously, dude, what the fuck are you doing here? Are you that fucking stupid? Do you think it's okay to just show up here and what? Ambush her into talking to you? Haven't you already done enough?" Beomgyu yelled angrily at Jake.

"Please, just let me talk to her." Jake's voice softened in contrast to Beomgyu's, and he sounded almost desperate. He knew coming here might not have been the wisest decision, but he didn't know what else to do.

By now, you were nearly dissociating from reality, trying to control your breathing, but it felt futile. You realized you would have to face him at some point, but you didn't expect it to be so soon. You felt blindsided and unprepared.

"Jesus Christ, Jake, leave her alone! She doesn't want to talk to you, and the least you can do is respect her wishes." Beomgyu felt on the brink of losing control, restraining himself from confronting Jake physically. Seeing him at the EpNu house was one thing but seeing him here seemed to have ignited something in Beomgyu.

"Fuck, Y/N, please. I'm sorry, please." Jake was on the verge of tears, desperately trying to convey his words to you while Beomgyu continued to push him away. Couldn’t he understand? You couldn't bear it any longer.

"Go away, please." Your voice was soft and broken as tears streamed down your face. You just wished for anything to happen, anything to help you escape this nightmare of a reality you were experiencing.

Your voice sounded weak, almost shattered, as Jake heard you softly crying. It felt as though his heart was breaking under the weight of a thousand pounds, and he wished he could vanish. At that moment, Jake realized he had committed the most heinous act, not only against anyone but against the girl he loved.

Fortunately, before the situation could escalate further, your RA, Renjun, intervened after hearing the commotion from inside the dorm lobby. Upon seeing Jake, he threatened to call campus security, prompting Jake to dejectedly retreat back to the house with one last glance in your direction.

In a state of panic, you were quickly ushered into your room, where Wonyoung sprang into action, doing her best to tend to you. Without the chance to bid Beomgyu goodbye or express gratitude to Renjun, who was currently contacting campus security to request increased dorm security, you collapsed onto your bed, completely drained from the overwhelming emotions coursing through your body.

Jake seemed to have complied with your wishes since that night, as you hadn't heard a single peep from him for the next couple of weeks until school ended. He even skipped the mandatory Relationship 101 class, but honestly, you couldn't care less about whether he passed or not. You were just relieved that your project was completed before everything unraveled. In truth, you were excited that the semester had finally ended and you could escape this toxic environment and go back home. It was disheartening to witness the campus you once adored being tarnished by Jake's actions, which had caused you immense anxiety. This break was much needed.

However, amidst the chaos of managing school, rebuilding your reputation, and working through the emotional aftermath of the incident, you had completely forgotten about how your parents would react when you returned home. It was naive of you to assume they wouldn't find out about what had happened given the scale of the situation. Now, here you were, confronted by your family's intense outrage, more specifically your father’s.

"To think that we raised our daughters alongside that bastard disgusts me! How many times have we welcomed the Sims into our home? I can't understand how you're staying so calm about this. He violated our baby! I can't handle this; I'm going over there right now to make sure he knows he will not get away with this and we will be pressing charges!" Currently, your entire family was trying to restrain your father from actually committing murder on an unsuspecting Jake, who lived just a few blocks away.

"Dad, no! Oh my god, stop!" You shouted at him, joining your sisters and mother in their desperate attempts to prevent him from leaving the house. This level of anger was uncharacteristic of your usually even-tempered father, but you understood why he was so furious. After all, Jake had harmed his precious daughter, not to mention the youngest.

"Dad, please, let's think this through first!" Your eldest sister, Jennie, usually level-headed, firmly pleaded. While everyone in your family had every right to be angry, resorting to violence wouldn't solve anything—it would only escalate the situation.

"Honey, listen to the girls, please. The school has already informed us about the actions they're taking against him. He won't get away with it. I'm furious too, I mean he’s the son of one of my best friends, but acting out won't help Y/N. Let's take a moment to calm down before we discuss this further," your mother, though seething with anger, managed to handle the situation better than your father.

"But that's not enough! I mean I can’t even imagine the extent of humiliation the boy put our daughter through!" Flames still flickered in your father's eyes as he yelled out, but his body came to a halt, no longer headed for the front door.

"Mom's right, Dad. Having your photo splashed all over the news because you ended up murdering Jake won't help Y/N at all," Rosé’s words seemed to finally resonate with your father, causing him to turn back towards the living room. He let out a deep sigh of frustration before taking a moment to collect himself. Clearly, he was still angry, but he knew that his rash actions would do nothing but more harm to your already delicate situation.

You could see right through your father; it was evident how utterly heartbroken he was beneath all the rage. He couldn't help but direct some of his anger towards himself for not being able to protect his baby girl. With gentle steps, you approached your father, who was hunched over on the couch. You knew that no words could alleviate his suffering, so you simply embraced him in a tight hug, offering a silent gesture of comfort and support.

Thanks to Jake, it felt like he had even managed to rob you of your winter break, the one thing you had hoped would provide a sense of normalcy. Since the first day back, your family had been making an effort to avoid bringing up anything that would make you uncomfortable while still trying to maintain the holiday spirit you were all too familiar with, but something felt off. Despite your parents' repeated emphasis that none of this was your fault, you couldn't help but still feel an overwhelming sense of shame, especially now that they were aware of the relationship you had with Jake and the extent of what you had allowed him to do to you. It was already embarrassing enough that your parents knew about your sex life, but to have them informed by the school about the sex tapes you had made with their best friend's child added a whole new level of humiliation.

As expected, the usual Christmas dinner between your family and Jake's family wasn't happening this year. It was clear that the incident had strained the relationship your mother had with his, causing a noticeable rift between them. While Jake's family had expressed sincere apologies for their son's actions, you knew that rebuilding the close bond they once had would be a difficult task for everyone involved.

However, what truly caused you the most internal struggle was the conflicting feelings you seemed to have toward Jake. Yes, you were still undeniably angry and upset with him, but a small part of you kept nagging at the back of your mind, making you think about him. The image of his absolutely worn-down look during your last encounter haunted you. It was a side of Jake you had never seen before – so broken and vulnerable, and it bothered you. Was he genuinely feeling guilt for everything he caused you to go through, or was it just a facade to deal with the consequences of his actions? You berated yourself for even having these thoughts, but they were hard to ignore.

Despite not considering each other friends, the progress made in your relationship during the semester had surprised you. The glimpses of a different side to Jake had almost made you proud of the changes the two of you were seemingly making. So, to witness everything crumble away was painful. It seemed as though, against your better judgment, you had developed some level of care for Jake, and amid all the pain you were going through, you couldn't help but wonder about him.

The internal turmoil left you questioning your own sanity. How could you find any compassion for someone who had caused you so much harm? It was a maddening contradiction that seemed to defy all logic.

The only time you felt fully comfortable confronting these thoughts was during your daily walks with your dog to the park near your house. Unlike everyone else in your life, Lady (your absolute sweetie pie 5-year-old cocker spaniel) not only held no judgment in her eyes and was the best listener, but she also knew the best way to comfort your conflicted heart: cuddles.

"I know you're probably sick of hearing me saying this, but it's just so hard for me to really understand what's going on." You let out a huge sigh that caused Lady to look back at you with eyes that conveyed concern. But before you could continue your rant, Lady seemed to be taken by something as her head whipped around, and she barked loudly.

A fluffy ball of fur could be seen barreling through the playground, and you started to recognize what was heading your way. It seemed as though Lady was quite aware too, as before you could even register what was happening, you found yourself being dragged across the playground where you were currently swinging, all thanks to your dog. You were all too familiar with the Sim's family dog, Layla, who seemed to have spotted you earlier and escaped from her owner. You hadn't seen her in a while, but she seemed extremely elated to be in your presence, immediately rolling on her back, hinting at you to rub her belly. Lady, too, was overjoyed to see her friend, barking and jumping around in excitement.

"Fuck, Layla, come back! Jesus, you can't just—" You heard his voice before you saw him, and Jake seemed much too preoccupied with getting his dog back to realize who Layla was running towards. His wide eyes and frozen state at your presence were a huge contrast to how he was back at your dorm when you last saw him.

"Shit, Y/N…" He muttered out before failing to find the rest of his words. His face flushed red, seemingly utterly confused about how to approach the situation. Clearly, neither of your dogs seemed to sense the distress coming off from their owners as they happily played with each other.

Unlike before, the feeling of panic and overwhelming anxiety seemed to be less present, replaced by a profound sense of confusion. Yes, initial anger surged within you upon seeing him, but there was also a part of you that wanted to take him in, to understand him. Dressed in a dark hoodie and sweatpants, he appeared disheveled, as if he had just rolled out of bed. The darkness that clouded his face persisted despite the sunny weather, and it was evident that he hadn't made much progress since before.

"I'm so sorry about Layla. She just darted out of nowhere. I guess she spotted you with Lady and got excited." As he mentioned her name, Lady finally seemed to recognize his presence, instantly wagging her tail and nudging his leg, seeking affection. "Um, seriously, I'm so sorry about her. I-I'll just go."

However, before you could fully comprehend your own actions, you found yourself shaking your head. "Wait!" His eyes widened in surprise.

"Jake, hold on. Can we talk?" You weren't sure where this sudden urge came from, but you knew that earlier you weren't ready to face Jake. Now, however, you felt more prepared. You needed this. It was the least he owed you.

He appeared taken aback by your request, but after a moment of hesitation, he nodded. "Yeah, of course."

Your assumptions about his situation seemed to be accurate, as he was clearly not doing well. His parents were on the verge of kicking him out, unable to comprehend that their son was behind all of this, and his relationship with his brother was strained, with minimal communication between them. Moreover, he had failed almost all of his classes, save for one, and it appeared that his former friends had distanced themselves from him, not wanting to be associated with him. While a few of his teammates were still willing to hang out with him, he personally didn't want to be involved with them, knowing they were also complicit in what had happened. It was evident that his once highly regarded status and reputation were now completely shattered.

His depression had reached an all-time low, and the idea of taking a break from school and not having to return back in a couple of weeks was incredibly tempting. After all, what was the point of resuming when he already had to take extra time to graduate due to his failing grades? However, he knew deep down that this decision wouldn't help repair his already strained relationship with his parents. Despite all this, as he spent his days moping around in bed, only one thing consumed his thoughts—you.

It was ironic how the person he had always seemed to despise was now dominating his mind but for entirely different reasons. Although it might be difficult to believe this sudden shift in his feelings towards you, Jake had come to a profound realization that his previous hatred had merely served as a facade for his true emotions. It had taken a long time for him to become aware of them, but now he was somehow enlightened. Jake wasn't entirely certain if what he felt could be called love or if it was perhaps a form of obsession, but one thing he was certain of was that the feelings he harbored for you were genuine. He found himself missing your smile, the scent of your perfume, and even the snarky quips you directed his way.

Now, he understood why the saying "you never know what you have until it's gone" was so widely accepted, especially as he sat next to you on the swings. Every aspect of you captivated him, and he made a conscious effort to absorb every bit of you, unsure if this might be the last time he would have the opportunity to see you. You were utterly beautiful, and the mere thought of not being able to call you his brought tears to his eyes.

"I know my apology means very little to you, and it won't undo any of the damage I've caused, but I need to say it—I'm sorry." His words were sincere, and while he had been right that they wouldn’t erase the pain or fix anything, you had still been yearning to hear them directly from him.

You let out a sigh. "I just need to understand why. It’s no secret that we’ve never really been fond of each other, but I thought we were making progress. Have you really been hating me that much all this time?" Despite the joyful sounds of your dogs playing happily nearby, the atmosphere between you and Jake couldn't have been more different.

This question about his true feelings towards you had been haunting you at the core. If someone else had been responsible for the hurt you experienced, it would still be painful, but it somehow hurt more deeply when you realized it was Jake behind it all. You had known him your entire life, grown up together, and despite the ups and downs of your relationship, you took a chance trusting him with your most vulnerable self. For him to exploit that trust in such a cruel way felt like an unbearable betrayal.

"To be honest, I'm still grappling with that myself. As much as I want to deny it, the truth is that my stupid pride was at play when Jeongin was egging me on. At that moment, I prioritized my own ego and how I would appear in front of a group of guys I couldn't care less about. Y/N, I don't hate you. I don't think I ever truly did and in fact, I think it’s actually always been the opposite. I'm sorry." His confession made you frown, unable to immediately process what he was saying.

"Wait, what? Jake, you've spent most of our lives convincing me that you hated me. You can't just tell me now that you never actually hated me. I reciprocated those feelings because I believed it was mutual. If that wasn't the truth, then why did you torment me all this time?" The idea that Jake had never truly hated you should have brought some relief, but instead, it only added to your frustration.

"Damn it, I don't know. Deep down, I always knew I was in the wrong when we were kids and I cheated on you. I deserved that push off the monkey bars. But my pride got in the way, and it was easier for me to blame you than to admit my own faults. So, I continued messing with you, making you believe I hated you, rather than facing the truth. And now I realize how much I've lost. You were my best friend until that point, and I loved you. Losing you because of my foolish mistake was difficult to accept. And now, it seems we're in a similar situation. We were doing so well and I was starting to really fucking like you until I went and fucked it up again." Tears welled up in his eyes as he finally revealed the underlying reasons behind his actions.

He was sincere, and his guilt was evident, but you couldn't shake off the feeling of being upset. Growing up, girls were often told that if a boy picked on them, it was because they liked them, but that notion never sat well with you. Harassing someone you liked wasn't a display of love, and Jake's admission that he had perpetuated such a toxic stereotype only added to your disappointment. He could have chosen a different approach to express his true feelings, but instead, he resorted to hate, making you feel sorry for your younger self. While you were willing to participate in getting back at him, it was a result of your genuine upset and negative emotions towards his actions. If he had simply revealed that he was sorry and missed being friends with you, you would have readily welcomed him back into your life.

"Jake..." Your voice trailed off, struggling to find the right words as a surge of emotions overwhelmed you. "I don't think I can talk to you right now. I just need some time." Swiftly, you turned away from him and headed towards where Lady and Layla were joyfully playing. However, before you could get far, you heard his pleas and felt his hands grasp your wrist.

Jake desperately clutched on to your wrist, abandoning any pretense of holding back his tears as he begged. "Please, Y/N. I don't expect you to forgive me, because you don't owe me anything, especially cause of everything I’ve done to you but..."

You waited for him to finish his sentence, but his thoughts seemed jumbled and incomplete, prompting a sigh from you. "But what, Jake? I need time to process all of this. You've dropped a bombshell on me on top of everything you already put me through, and I can't easily understand or accept everything."

"You can take all the time you need, I beg you," he pleaded, cradling your hand and looking at you with desperation in his eyes. "I’ll do anything. I just can't bear to lose you again."

"Well, maybe you should have considered that before then."

The winter break inched by painfully slow, leaving nothing memorable in its wake since your unexpected encounter with Jake at the park. Days melded into each other until school sneaked back into session, disrupting the monotony.

Jake continued spending the rest of his break under his covers, in a depressive state. While he honestly should be more worried about his future at HybeU as his GPA had plummeted and he was looking to take an extra year to graduate, but the only thing he could think about was you. Every waking moment he spent mulling over you and your tears and the way your eyes gazed at him in betrayal. You, who he’d spent most of his life convincing himself that he hated when he knew that wasn’t true. It was his fault that he lost you when you were younger and now again when given the golden opportunity to win you back, he fucked it up again.

The decision of whether to return for the second semester hung over Jake until the day before school started when he reluctantly opted to go back in hopes of avoiding driving a further wedge between him and his parents. But now, regret gnawed at him for not taking time off, leaving him wallowing in a sea of misery.

The first week of classes turned out to be far worse than he had anticipated. His motivation dwindled, and the simple act of attending felt like a burdensome chore. No one acknowledged him, a stark contrast to the earlier days of the school year when greetings were abundant from those he passed. Even the professors seemed to have caught wind of it, their expressions carrying a tinge of disappointment. The constant scrutiny and sudden isolation became overwhelming, especially now that he resided alone, separated from the familiarity of the EpNu house he had grown accustomed to.

He caught sight of Sunghoon and Jay at the library the other day, messing around just like they always used to, making the librarian frown with their loud banter and laughter. Instantly, a wave of overwhelming upset crashed over him, compelling him to turn around and head straight back home. It felt like everyone else had moved on, leaving him adrift.

The only ones who seemed to make an effort were a few guys from the soccer team facing similar consequences. But he found himself pushing away their attempts to connect, stewing in a mix of anger and resentment. While he knew his actions were at fault, part of him blamed them for provoking him into hurting you.

Meanwhile, your night on the other hand was taking a completely different turn from Jake's scene, with you slamming down your sixth shot and pulling a face at the vodka's harshness, quickly chasing it with cranberry juice.

“Shit! That’s so gross ugh,” you grimaced as you chased the vodka with the cranberry juice you held in your other hand.

"Ugh, vodka’s always the worst," Ningning grimaced, grabbing your drink and downing it herself to mask the taste.

It was formal season, and this year, Epsilon Nu had gone all out, choosing New Orleans for the grand celebration. You were surrounded by many of your sisters (EpNu had patched things up with AES to a certain extent, especially after Jake’s suspension and once it became clear that none of the boys were involved in anything), all glammed up to the max. The city was alive, music blasting from the bar, adding to the thrilling chaos of the night—an ideal distraction.

"Fuck, Ningning, seriously, that dress was made for you! Jay better be all over you later at the hotel," you slurred, planting a tipsy kiss on her cheek.

She blushed, about to reply when someone crashed into you, their perfume giving away their identity.

"Wonyoung, seriously, stop it!" Jungwon's voice frantically followed, trying to separate her from you.

Well past midnight, it was evident that everyone was thoroughly intoxicated. But honestly, who could blame you? You were surrounded by some of your closest friends in a city known for its entertainment, far removed from Jake's world on campus. It felt like the first time in forever that genuine laughter filled the air, finally allowing you to escape thoughts of him.

"Been searching all over for you! Ugh Y/N, you can’t just leave me like that!" Jungwon struggled to peel his girlfriend away from you, but you didn’t mind her clinging.

"Ningning and I have been right here the whole time! You clearly didn't look hard enough," you giggled, feeling the warmth from one too many drinks.

Your feet were throbbing in the stilettos you had on, and your body felt damp from the sweat of dancing and the drink you accidentally spilled earlier (thank goodness for the black dress). You knew your makeup was probably smudged, no longer as flawless as it had been for those pre-party photos. Your ears were practically ringing from the deafening noise of the bar and you were already dreading the miserable bus ride back home tomorrow, but honestly, in this high you were feeling right now, you couldn't care less.

“Where’s Beomgyu hyung?” Jungwon asked which made you realize that you’d lost your date.

The party beads around your neck jingled softly as you whipped your head around, scanning the crowded space. Failing to spot him, a slight pout formed on your lips. "I don't know, I think I lost him. I'm gonna go find him," you declared, pushing yourself away from Wonyoung and heading away from the bar before protests from your friends could be heard.

Finding him in this crowd, especially in your tipsy state amid similarly dressed people, turned out to be quite the challenge. But then, as you glanced towards a dimly lit corner off to the side, your eyes widened in realization. There he was—Beomgyu, engaged in conversation with Sunghoon, Jay, and Yeonjun, oblivious to your presence. As you approached them, amid the bar's clamor, you could pick up on snippets of their conversation.

"He looked absolutely miserable, like I almost didn't recognize him," Sunghoon's voice pierced through the noise.

You frowned as you inched closer to them, careful not to reveal yourself yet eager to hear more of their conversation.

"Yeah, I've heard a few people mentioning how he hardly shows up to class anymore, and I don't even know if he has any friends left. Wouldn't surprise me if he didn't," Yeonjun remarked nonchalantly, taking a sip from his cup which you were sure was filled with some kind of alcohol.

"Well fuck him. He brought this all on himself and deserves it, and now he's probably just wallowing in self-pity," Beomgyu's disdain dripped from his words as he rolled his eyes. To him, Jake was nothing but a sorry excuse for a human being, and he couldn't help but feel angry that he had once considered him a brother.

"Yeah, he deserves everything he's getting, but you guys don't get it. He looked awful," Jay interjected, acknowledging Beomgyu's sentiments while also sharing his own observations from his and Sunghoon’s encounter with Jake at the library.

Sunghoon nodded in agreement, his expression troubled. "We're not trying to excuse his actions, but you should've seen him. It was beyond concerning, like he hadn't slept or eaten in weeks. He used to be our best friend, so yeah, we're fucking furious with him, but we can't help but feel a little worried."

"No, I can't believe this," Beomgyu shook his head in disbelief at Jay and Sunghoon's concern for Jake. "I don't know if you guys realize, but he ruined Y/N. She went through hell, and even though she might seem okay now, it's all an act. The things people are still saying about her are fucking insane. Winter and I practically had to drag her onto the bus to get here because we felt like we needed to do something to lift her spirits."

Yeonjun scoffed in annoyance, joining the conversation. "Yeah, you guys need to realize that while Jake may be struggling, it's nothing compared to what Y/N went through. Don't fucking bring this up again, at least not until we're back on campus."

And with that, Beomgyu stormed off, followed by Yeonjun while Sunghoon and Jay exchanged weary sighs, shaking their heads in resignation. The effects of alcohol seemed to evaporate from your system as their conversation sank in, leaving you painfully sober.

You should have been rejoicing in Jake's suffering, but instead, a sickening taste lingered in your mouth, refusing to dissipate throughout the rest of the night. Even as you returned to your hotel room, the intensity of your thoughts about Jake seemed to amplify. While Beomgyu softly snored beside you, you laid still on the bed, unable to escape the swirling whirlwind of emotions the thought of him had stirred within you.

This feeling didn’t seem to leave you as the bus ride back to school was filled with laughter and chatter, but even then, Jake continued to haunt the recesses of your mind. You felt guilty for allowing yourself to harbor such conflicted thoughts about him. How could you feel sympathy for the man who had shattered you in the worst possible way? Yet, shamefully, his presence persisted in your thoughts, a constant reminder of the turmoil he had inflicted upon you.

"What's up with you?" Wonyoung's voice pierced through your thoughts, jolting you back to reality.

You quickly shook your head, trying to brush off her concern. "Nothing, what do you mean?"

But Wonyoung wasn't buying it. "Stop lying. I know you better than anyone, and I can tell something's been bothering you ever since formal. So, what's going on?"

You hesitated, debating whether to confide in her. Wonyoung was your best friend, but you feared her reaction to your shameful empathy towards Jake. She wouldn't understand. "Seriously, I'm fine. Don't worry about it," you insisted, hoping to brush off the conversation.

Her frown deepened, and you knew she wouldn't let it go. "Y/N, I'm serious. What's going on? I promise I won't judge; just talk to me."

With a heavy sigh, you relented, knowing her stubborn nature wouldn’t leave you alone till you told her. "Okay, fine. But you have to swear not to get mad or make me feel worse about it, because I already feel terrible," you requested, seeking her assurance. She nodded, prompting you to continue.

"During formal, I overheard a couple of the EpNu boys talking about Jake. They saw him at the library, and apparently, he looked really rough," you began, sensing Wonyoung's urge to interject but you gave her a warning look to let you finish. "Like, he apparently looked so bad that they barely recognized him, and he seemed like he hadn't slept or eaten in weeks. He already looked bad enough the last time I saw him, so I can’t even imagine what he probably looks like right now. I know I shouldn't feel this way, but I'm worried, and I can't stop thinking about it, especially considering all the stuff he said when we ran into each other at the playground. I really-"

Wonyoung's reaction cut you off abruptly. "Wait, what do you mean you saw him at the playground? You didn't mention this! When was this? Are you okay?"

You cursed inwardly, realizing you hadn't shared this with anyone and hadn't really planned on doing so. "Shit, I forgot to tell you. I'm sorry," you apologized, offering her a sincere look before continuing, "We just ran into each other at one of the nearby parks during the break while walking our dogs. He wanted to talk, so I listened. He started apologizing, and then he started revealing things, like how he never actually hated me when we were younger and actually liked me. It was overwhelming, so I walked away, and I haven't seen him since."

Wonyoung's mouth hung open in shock. "And you forgot to mention this? Oh my fucking God, this is insane. He's actually fucking crazy, isn't he? Does he think confessing to you after what he did is going to fix anything? You're not buying into this, are you?"

"No, of course not," you asserted, your voice wavering with emotion. "Well, actually, he did seem genuine about being sorry and liking me, but that doesn't mean I'm going to forgive him. I swear I'm not. But the thing is, I can't stop thinking about him. Wonyoung, I don't think you understand. I fucking hate myself right now because all I can think about is him. I hate him so much for what he did to me, but why am I feeling this way?" Tears welled up in your eyes as you finally let out the pent-up emotions, laying bare your inner turmoil to her.

"Oh, honey," Wonyoung's face softened as she rose from her seat and approached you, enveloping you in a comforting hug as you sobbed into her embrace. "You're right, I have no idea what you're going through, and I fucking hate Jake so much for hurting my best friend in the worst way possible. But I also can't ignore the fact that you just admitted how you can't stop thinking about him."

There was a brief pause before she sighed and gently broke the hug, facing you with a serious expression. "Y/N, do you maybe like Jake?"

Her question caught you completely off guard, and a baffled look crossed your face as you almost jerked in surprise. "What?"

You started to shake your head, but she quickly interjected before you could even deny. "Y/N, just listen. I know this might sound insane, but have you considered that maybe you're experiencing this immense guilt and can't stop thinking about him because you have feelings for him?"

The moment Wonyoung uttered those words, panic surged through you like a tidal wave, causing your breathing to quicken as you vehemently shook your head in denial. There was no way.

"No, what the actual fuck, Wonyoung," you choked out, tears welling up in your eyes as you rose from your seat, needing to put distance between yourself and her. "Why would you even suggest that?"

Wonyoung could see you on the verge of hyperventilating, and she reached out to try to calm you down. "Hey, hey, Y/N, come on, sit down, please," she urged gently. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to upset you. I just think that you're going through so much right now, and from what you just told me, you're conflicted and in a really difficult place. We don't choose who we love, and I think it's weighing heavily on you right now, maybe that's what happened with Jake. He's put you through so much, not just this year, but practically your whole life, and maybe coming to terms with that despite everything, you still fell for him, is creating this guilt within you. It's not your fault, and for fuck's sake, Jake would be the last person I would choose for you to love, because he will never deserve someone like you. But I'm not in charge of that, and I'm so sorry."

In that moment, you broke down completely, your sobs wracking your body as you clung to your friend, desperate for some semblance of solace. Deep down, you knew she was right. You'd been grappling with these feelings for Jake for longer than you cared to admit, and the realization terrified you. You despised yourself for loving him.

"Wonyoung... What do I do?" you whimpered softly, your voice tinged with fear.

"I don't know, Y/N," Wonyoung replied gently, her own voice filled with empathy. "But I promise you're not alone. We'll get through this together."

You hadn't set foot in any of the downtown bars since that night when you learned about what Jake had done after being harassed by those guys. The thought of returning made you uncomfortable, yet on this Saturday night, with seemingly everyone in your friend group going out, you decided to push yourself to socialize, to reclaim some sense of normalcy in the chaos of your year. However, it quickly became evident that your judgment wasn’t the soundest; you were already feeling miserable, and it wasn't even midnight.

You had arrived with Winter and Ningning, meeting their boyfriends at the bar. But as the night wore on, you lost track of them. Winter was beyond drunk, likely off somewhere making out with Felix, while Ningning and Jay were lost in their own world on the dance floor. Unlike their blissfully intoxicated selves, you felt painfully sober. You longed for Wonyoung's presence; she was away for the weekend with Jungwon visiting his parents, and you regretted accepting the invitation to go out.

Sighing, unable to immerse yourself in the same mood as your friends, you downed the shot of tequila in front of you before gathering your stuff and making your way to the exit. You made sure to send Winter a text, explaining that you weren't feeling well and were heading home, urging her to enjoy herself and not to worry. Just as you were about to summon an Uber though, an unfamiliar voice called out your name, halting you in your tracks.

At first, the voice seemed like a distant echo, easily dismissed amidst the clamor of the bar. But when it persisted, calling your name again, you couldn't ignore it any longer.

"Hey, Y/N!"

Turning abruptly, you were met with a face that you really didn’t ever want to see. He was obviously in a very intoxicated state; his words slurred, and his movements unsteady as he stumbled toward you.

"Hey, where're you going so fast? Have somewhere to be?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face as if you were close friends.

"Fuck off Jeongin." You curtly spat at him as you attempted to walk away.

He scoffed, his laughter tinged with bitterness. "Jesus Christ, Y/N, is that all you got to say to me after getting me fucking suspended?"

His words sent a chill down your spine, and you whipped your head around to address him. "I don’t know what you’re talking about because I didn’t do anything to get you suspended, but seriously, leave me alone," you angrily told him. As you attempted to walk away once more, you felt his hand reach out and harshly grab your wrist.

"Where the fuck do you think you’re going?" His tone turned menacing, the overpowering scent of alcohol made you grimace. "Aren’t you cute trying to act like you have no idea what you’ve done?"

His grip tightened on your wrist, sending waves of pain shooting through your arm as you struggled to break free. Panic surged within you as you realized he wasn't going to let you leave. "Let go of me! I have no idea what you're talking about. If anything, you’re the one who did this to me!"

"Listen here you bitch, because of your stupid little act of trying to paint yourself as some poor little victim, my fucking future is ruined. So this little act of you trying to act like you have no idea what I’m talking about isn’t going to cut it. You’re going to fucking pay, it’s the least you deserve,” he snarled, his grip on your wrist tightening as he dragged you out of the bar. You fought back, but his anger seemed to fuel his strength.

“You’re fucking hurting me! Seriously let me go you asshole!” you pleaded, your voice trembling with fear as you struck his arm.

“If you don’t shut the fuck—”

“Let her go, Jeongin.” The interruption came from a familiar voice, causing both you and Jeongin to turn toward the source.

Despite it only being about three months that had passed since you last saw him, Jake looked almost unrecognizable. His hair was longer and a bit unkempt, and he wore plain sweats and a hoodie. Yet, there was no mistaking him.

“Fuck off, Jake. Mind your own fucking business,” Jeongin spat, his disdain evident in his tone.

“You made it my fucking business once you dragged her into whatever you’re doing. So fucking let go of her,” Jake asserted, his voice laced with fury as he approached.

“What? You still fucking pussy whipped for her, huh?” Jeongin harshly threw your wrist away, turning to face Jake. “From what I know, aren’t you also in the same position as I am because of this bitch?”

“Don’t fucking call her that, and the only reason you’re in this position is because you put yourself there. So leave her out of this and go home, you’re drunk. It’s pathetic,” Jake shot back, his anger palpable.

“You’re in no place to be calling anyone pathetic. I mean, look at yourself. Newsflash, she’s a fucking whore! Jake, it’s honestly embarrassing to watch you throw yourself for what? A girl who obviously doesn’t give a shit about you. In fact, I did you a favor, she deserved this. I mean, she’s been so passed around she’s literally like a—” Before Jeongin could finish his drunken rant, he was knocked out cold. Jake's fist met his face in a swift, furious blow.

“Jake!” You gasped in shock, watching as Jeongin crumpled to the dirty street.

“He fucking deserved it,” Jake snarled, his rage barely contained. But before he could do further damage, you reached for his arm.

“Hey, he’s already out, just let it go,” you urged, tugging Jake away as you tried to diffuse his anger.

He turned to you, and in that moment, it was as if his anger melted away, replaced by concern as he took you in. You looked stunning, your eyes filled with worry for him, and Jake couldn't help but once again be struck by the realization of what he had lost.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” His voice was gentle as he reached for your wrist, handling you delicately as if you were made of glass.

You furrowed your brows, concern evident in your features. “I’m fine, seriously. But Jake, you hit him really hard. Are you sure you didn’t break anything?”

Only then did Jake become aware of the ache in his knuckles, the pain radiating through his hand. He winced slightly as you reached to inspect his injured hand.

“You need to get that checked,” you insisted, but Jake shook his head stubbornly.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just ice it and it’ll be fine,” he assured, but you rolled your eyes at his attempt to brush it off.

“Ok fine, let’s go then,” you relented, letting out a sigh and crossing your arms.

Jake gave you a confused look before shaking his head. “I’m fine, Y/N, just go home. It’s late.”

“Jake, I’ll leave once you’re done icing your hand, so let’s go,” you insisted firmly. Knowing you wouldn't budge easily, he relented

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, fine. Let’s go,” he let out another sigh, closing his eyes briefly before nodding and the two of you walked away from the bar, turning left after walking a bit into what seemed to be the entrance of one of the student apartments located downtown.

Quietly, you followed him to the elevator, the tension palpable between you. After a while, Jake broke the silence. “Why were you out alone anyway?”

“Oh, I wasn’t alone. Well, I didn’t come alone, but everyone got really drunk and went off on their own, and I just wasn’t feeling it, so I was trying to go home when Jeongin ambushed me,” you explained, picking at your fingers nervously.

“Wait, so they just ditched you? Who’d you go out with? That’s not safe at all and in fact really dangerous—”

“No, they didn’t ditch me. They were dancing and all, and like I said, I just wanted to go home, so I left. You know damn well Winter and Ningning would never ditch me,” you clarified, rolling your eyes. Thankfully, the elevator dinged, cutting off any further discussion on the matter.

“So, how’s living alone?” you asked, eager to change the topic as you followed him down the hall to his apartment.

He let out a disgruntled grunt. “As lonely as you can expect it to be.” Fishing for his keys in his pocket, he winced a little at the pain his knuckle was giving him. Maybe you were right; it was starting to hurt like a bitch.

“Yeah, I guess going from living with a bunch of guys to being by yourself can be a huge adjustment,” you nodded in agreement.

Despite the awkwardness in the air, you found yourself surprised at how calm you were feeling in Jake's presence. Given the strain in your relationship over the past few months, you had anticipated the reunion to be much more uncomfortable, especially seeing how the last encounter went, but it wasn't as bad as you had imagined. In fact, you felt lucky that he had run into you and Jeongin; if he hadn't been there, you weren't sure how you would have gotten out of that situation.

“Well, here it is,” Jake said, opening the door to his apartment and gesturing for you to enter. It was a clean studio, cleaner than you had expected, though it seemed he had only the bare essentials.

“Oh, it’s actually really nice,” you remarked, taking in the space as you set your purse down on the island.

Jake chuckled softly as he reached for the fridge to grab some ice for his hand. “What, you weren’t expecting it to be?”

“Oh no, it’s just... I don’t know,” you trailed off, unsure of what you had expected Jake's living space to be like. You hadn't really thought much about his living arrangements; your mind had been preoccupied with other matters, particularly your feelings toward him.

“I just overheard a couple of the EpNu boys talking about how they saw you and you weren’t in the best shape, so I didn’t really expect your apartment to be in the best shape as well,” you truthfully told him. Jake didn’t respond for a couple of seconds, just taking in what you said as he iced his hand.

“Sunghoon and Jay?” he asked, and you nodded. “Yeah, I don’t know... I guess they’re right. I haven’t really been doing the best, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be living like a slob. It’s already depressing enough.” Jake couldn’t meet your gaze. Both of you knew why he had reached this point, and he didn’t want to see any disgust reflected in your eyes towards him.

“Jake, can we talk, for real this time? I know we saw each other during the break, but I think that was just way too soon, and we were both just dealing with so much emotion to fully hold a coherent conversation,” you sighed, finally broaching the subject you had been avoiding. But you knew there would be no better opportunity than now to talk with him. You needed to, at least for yourself.

He nodded before answering, “Uhm, yeah, of course, but if you’re uncomfortable, we don’t have to. I can just drive you back home.”

“No, I want to. I think I need to, and it’s the least I deserve,” you insisted. He nodded again, leading you to the couch.

Jake nervously bit his lip before sighing, facing you squarely. “Y/N, I just want to start by saying I’m sorry. I know you’re probably tired of hearing it, but I really mean it. I've had a lot of time to myself to reflect on everything, and I know that simply saying sorry will never be enough to make up for what I’ve done to you.” He swallowed hard before continuing. “I just can’t even begin to imagine what I put you through, and I’m just so fucking sorry for that. Hearing the awful things people have been saying about you, knowing it’s because of me, it’s just... it's horrible and so upsetting. You don’t deserve any of this. I know we haven’t always gotten along but you have always been a constant in my life and these past few months without you have made me realize the full extent of the pain I caused you. I ended up hurting the person I fell in love with in the worst way imaginable.”

Jake's confession to you brought tears to your eyes as your lips quivered. To hear those words from him ached your heart. It took you a moment to look up at him and regain your breath before you could respond.

“Jake, I know you didn’t send those videos out in the first place, but you were being so fucking stupid, and that ended up costing everything. You’re right, you don’t know what I’ve been through these past few months, because it’s been hell. But I’ve also been suffering not just because of the humiliation from classmates or just knowing that there’s a sex tape of us out there for everyone to see, but it has been so hard coming to terms with the fact that amidst all this, I had also somehow fallen for you. You ruined something that could’ve been so good, and that fucking hurts.”

"I miss you so much, Y/N, so fucking much it hurts. I'm sorry." A tear made its way down Jake’s face, and you couldn’t help but reach out for his hand because you couldn’t help but feel the same way.

“Jake, I don’t know what to do,” you softly said while looking at your intertwined hands.

Jake breathed heavily, “I don’t know either, but Y/N, I’m not expecting you to forgive me. I’ll be spending the rest of my life working for that, but I don’t know if I can go on living like this. I feel so empty without you, like I’m hollow inside and it aches like-”

You just couldn’t listen to him any longer. It hurt too much to see him like this. It hurt you too much to be away from him and so you did the only thing you could think to do. You kissed him.

Jake was obviously taken aback as he stood frozen on the couch, unable to reciprocate or even process what you had done. But your lips eased him as he slowly started to move against them. It was like he was riding a bike again, with muscle memory kicking in. The two of you got closer as your bodies touched one another, deepening the kiss. His hands made their way around your face, cupping them softly as if he was handling delicate porcelain, and you reached for his neck, pulling him closer as you wanted to feel more of him. You had missed this beyond words. You had missed him beyond anything.

As the kiss started to get more heated, you felt Jake slowly pull away, leaving you confused. “Wait, wait, Y/N, shouldn’t we think about this?”

He was right. You should, as every cell in your body was screaming at you about how big of a mistake this was. But right now, you couldn’t give a damn. “Can we just talk about this after? Please, I just need you right now. It’s been so long.”

Jake looked sincerely into your eyes, making sure you were sure of your decision before he gave a small nod and reached for you again.

Your lips moved against one another as if they’d been starved for each other and you quickly moved your body on top of his, straddling him as your mouth opened, letting more of him in. Quiet moans could be heard as you slowly moved your hips down on him while his hands made their way down to cup your ass.

His lips detached from yours but before you could complain, they reattached themselves to your neck, nipping at your soft spot as you softly moaned. You had been wearing only a thin black slip dress so you could feel the hairs on your body all rise as chills went down your spine.

As his lips moved their way down your neck, you palmed at his hoodie, “Take it off.”

He obliged with no hesitation and in one swift motion, his bare torso laid before you. Fuck, you had missed him. He looked as gorgeous as ever despite everything and you couldn’t help but rake your eyes over him, taking him all in.

His patience got to him though as he yanked you down, bringing your lips together again. His fingers played with the bottom of your dress and before you knew it, that too was getting yanked off.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he whispered. You had forgone wearing a bra and so you were only left in a small black thong. You looked like a little present perfectly wrapped for him.

You gave him a soft smile before reaching for him. You started to kiss your way down his neck to his chest, eliciting another groan from him, but before you could go further, he pulled you up. You shot him a quick look of confusion but he dismissed it. “Next time, I just need you right now.”

Jake got up from the couch, helping you up as well before guiding you backward a couple of steps to his bed. You laid back as you watched him take the rest of his clothing off. Your mouth was watering and to be honest, you hadn’t slept with anyone in a while and you hadn’t realized how badly you had been craving this until now.

He quickly made his way back to you and the two of you attached your lips once more, moving against each other as if you had been starved. One of his hands made its way down to your breast, softly kneading it, as the other hand went further down before reaching under your thong.

His finger softly glossed over your entrance as you gasped, aching for more. You were wet, beyond soaking and it made Jake harder than ever. He gently played with your pussy before slowly entering a finger.

You were just as warm as ever as your soft gummy walls sucked him in and your soft mewls were enough to instigate him to start moving his finger slowly. You tightly pulled at his hair as you continued panting into his mouth.

“Babe, you’re soaking,” he smirked a little before kissing you again. His finger was now steadily moving inside you as he teased another.

“Please, Jake please,” you moaned, seeking more of him.

He gave in to your pleas as he added a second finger, stretching you further. You already felt incredibly tight and Jake felt like he was losing his mind. He couldn’t bear to go further without fully being inside you so he pulled his fingers out before yanking your thong down and spreading your legs open.

“Jesus, you’re so beautiful. The absolute prettiest.” Jake praised you before taking his cock and lining it with your entrance. Feeling his tip alone was too much of a tease for you and you whined.

“Just put it in, please.” He gave in to your plea as he plunged inside of you.

Your eyes instantly rolled to the back of your head as your mouth opened wide. You felt like you were about to burst with how full he was making you feel.

“You’re so fucking tight, shit,” Jake clenched his jaw, taking in how you felt around him. You were made for him and he couldn’t wait any longer.

His thrusts were hard and powerful, making sure you felt him everywhere. Your soft pants turned to loud moans as you couldn’t hold them back any longer. He felt too good, plunging deep inside you, hitting against your cervix. Your toes curled and your hands reached for his shoulders to hold on to as he pummeled himself in and out of you.

“Jake, fuck! It’s too good,” you cried out. Tears were forming in your eyes from the pleasure.

Sweat dripped down his back as Jake continued to thrust into you. He could feel himself getting closer every time you clenched around him and he reached down to capture your lips in his once more.

Sounds of skin slapping against each other while lewd noises of tongues moving against each other filled Jake’s small apartment as the air around the two of you grew thicker. You knew you were getting close as you could feel the familiar coil below your belly on the verge of snapping.

“Fuck, Jake, I’m almost there, keep going,” you urged him as you maintained eye contact with him. His eyes were raging with fire as your words had him thrusting into you harder.

Then the splintering feeling came crashing down on you as you clenched around him tightly. It was too good as the world around you spun while all the noise cut out. You let out a whimper as your toes curled tightly and back arched while you finished.

The sight of you cumming was beyond heavenly and Jake chased quickly after his release. You were limp against him, softly mewling at the overstimulation as he continued to hammer into you before finally cumming inside of you. His deep groan in your ear had you clenching around him one last time as you felt him slump over you.

The two of you panted loudly, trying to catch your breath as you stayed in your embrace. Your mind had been thoroughly blown, and this moment solidified just how much you had missed Jake. You never wanted to leave his embrace; it was where your raging mind and racing heart seemed to find stillness. Despite everything that had happened, you still yearned for this, and for the first time in a couple of months, you felt some semblance of clarity.

Your eyes fluttered open, and at first, you were confused as you took in your surroundings. But the events of last night quickly came back to you as you spotted Jake’s now bruised knuckles, his arm wrapped around you.

Tightly closing your eyes, you sighed, knowing that sleeping with Jake had just further complicated an already complicated situation. But no matter how much you tried to paint it as a mistake, you really couldn’t. You simply couldn’t change the fact that you had missed him deeply despite everything.

Feeling too hot under the comforter and the body heat emanating from Jake, you decided to quietly get up, gently moving his arm off of you to avoid waking him up. You searched around for your clothes but quickly realized that you had only worn your dress and there was no way you were getting back into that right now. So, you opted for Jake’s hoodie that was discarded on the floor last night.

You heard rustling from the bed, and when you turned around, you saw that Jake was half awake as he rose up from the bed. His hair was disheveled, and he rubbed his eyes before they laid themselves on you. He seemed surprised that you were still there.

“I thought you’d have been gone by now,” he murmured as he too searched around for his clothes.

You shrugged. “Running away from this would make it even worse.” It was true; what the two of you had done last night definitely wasn’t smart or ideal, but it had happened, and the two of you needed to deal with it.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Jake nodded, then asked, “You’re not regretting it?”

You shook your head. “Honestly, no. But Jake, I hope you realize that this doesn’t mean I forgive you for everything.”

“No, I know, I wouldn’t expect you to. But I hope you also realize that what I said yesterday is all true.” He walked towards you, taking both your hands in his as he peered into your eyes. “I love you, Y/N, and I’m not just saying that to get you to forgive me. I mean it.”

You looked deep into his eyes, searching for any signs of deceit, but found none. All you could do was nod. “Okay.”

“So what does this mean for us?” Jake’s question lingered in your mind. What did it mean? It was already established that the two of you loved each other, but you also couldn’t just overlook what he had done.

“I’m not sure, Jake,” you sighed. “I think we need to start over.”

Jake nodded. “Okay, and what does that mean?”

“I think you and I both know that we can’t date each other right now. That relationship would be fucked up the second we do. I think we need some time to maybe rebuild our relationship on a blank slate.” You scanned Jake’s face, hoping to gauge how he was feeling about your suggestion.

“Okay, a blank slate, that works for me.” This was more than he had expected you to give him, and it meant there was hope for the two of you. It was all he could ask for.

“Jake, you need to get your act together with school, your friends, and your parents. I don’t want you fucking up everything because of this one mistake. Yeah, it was a huge one, but what’s done is done and it can’t derail your entire life. And once you feel like you’re back on the right track, then maybe we can start over again.” You peered at him deeply, and he sighed. He knew you were right. His life had been so fucked up for the past few months, and he knew he had to straighten it out before even thinking about pursuing anything with you.

“I will, I promise. Thank you, Y/N, and I know I’ll be working for what I did to you for the rest of my life and that I’m nowhere close to being deserving of your forgiveness or even this. So I promise I’ll make it up to you and get my life back together. I love you.” Jake nodded as he cupped your face in his hands before giving you a kiss on your forehead.

You hugged him, and the two of you stayed in that embrace for a bit until you pulled back. “Wonyoung’s never going to forgive you for this, you know that? But I’ll be willing to work on her if you just show me that you’re genuine about this and working on yourself.”

And from the moment Jake dropped you back at your dorm, he did just as he promised you. For the first time in a while, he found himself eagerly making his way down to the library to get some work done for his classes, and while he knew it was a long shot, he texted Sunghoon and Jay. They were his best friends, and they also hadn’t deserved the betrayal Jake had put them through; they deserved a real apology. Jake was determined to change.

Slowly but steadily, it seemed to be working. Every now and then, you’d see him in the hall or at the library, and you would exchange waves or smiles. Each time, he looked like he was doing much better. You had also heard through the grapevine that he had been trying his best to mend each of the relationships he had with the EpNu brothers. Of course, not everyone had been as receptive or even willing, but everyone knew that he was atleast making an effort.

Long before you knew it, the year was ending, and while the back half of your semester didn’t bring you much excitement, you actually preferred it that way. After all that had happened, you didn’t need any more drama in your life. And honestly, you couldn’t complain. You still had your best friend by your side, along with a couple of other friends you had made along the way, whom you knew you would have for the rest of your life. Plus, you ended the year with pretty good grades, considering everything that had happened. The gossip and hate you initially received had pretty much died down, and honestly, you believed this was the best outcome that could have happened.

"I think we did alright, don’t you agree Lady?" Your sweetheart of a dog barked excitedly, as if she was agreeing with what you had said. But before you could say anything further, Lady's attention was taken as you saw a familiar ball of fur make her way towards the swingset where you and Lady were. Lady seemed to disregard you the second she spotted her friend and started excitedly chasing after Layla.

You watched the two of them playing with each other, a smile growing on your face. A few seconds later, you felt a presence on the swings next to you. You knew exactly who it was before you even turned to face him.

“Hey,” he said softly, offering you a smile as he extended his hand for a handshake. “I’m Jake. Nice to meet you.”

A smile as bright as the sun spread across your face as you shook his hand. “Hey Jake, I’m Y/N. It’s great to meet you.”

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cheesiedomino · 2 months

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Second chances ꙳ ੭ * ‧

synopsis: your old situationship from many years ago just moved back in town and of course, he has to text you. but it’s not just any normal text — he’s asking you out on a proper date this time. will you give a second chance to Cupid? or will you be left here feeling stupid?

genre: lee minho x fem!reader | exes (??) to lovers wc: 4.6k tags/warnings: fluff, some light angst, slightly suggestive but nothing srs, mild cursing, kissing, small mentions of crying T-T

now playing 🎧: from the start by laufey

[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]

“Why don’t you give Tinder a try already? I’m sick of hearing you nagging all day about being lonely!” Areum abruptly suggests mid-convo , resting her palm on the side of her face.

As you both casually wait for the food to arrive, you end up on the dreadful topic of dating again. You got into a real heated discussion with her, sitting in a booth at this new restaurant one of your coworker’s recommended. It wasn’t super well known but they wouldn’t stop raving about how delicious their breadsticks were. The place wasn’t too jam packed but definitely had a decent amount of people. What you weren’t anticipating on was seeing dozens of couples here, it kind of threw your whole vibe off since it only reminded you of your current sad relationship status. Maybe you were putting far too much thought into it but everything seemed so highly unfair. Glaring in envy while they all happily rub in your face that they’ve found their forever companion.

Life really can be cruel at times.

“You can’t be for real right now..” you instantly side eye your friend from across the table. Feeling personally triggered whenever she mentions online dating. You refuse to try it, never wanting to partake in such a vain concept where you swipe left and right based solely on looks. “That’s not the same as real romance. I want to meet someone naturally, wanna tell my kids when they grow up how I met their dreamy, hunk of a father in aisle 39 at Whole Foods.”

One could say it’s almost pathetic in a way— this burning desire you harbor within, longing for a pure, quaint, and beautiful love. Constantly catching yourself daydreaming about finding your life partner, the person you’re going to marry and possibly create an eternal family with. That day has yet to come unfortunately, but you still hold onto the thought of you someday meeting the one.

You thought you found them before, but thou shalt not speak thy names out into existence.

“Well, good luck finding ‘real romance’ in the big age of 2024-” Areum snorts in amusement, taking a pause to sip on her mango strawberry lemonade. “I need whatever drugs you’re on that’s making you this delulu so I can fantasize about my knight and shining armor that’s never coming!”

God you hate that word. Delulu. Why are you suddenly “delusional” for wanting a picture perfect romance? It doesn’t need to be perfect per se, but you want to feel adored, swept off your feet and embraced like the true queen you are. Was that too much to ask? Considering the current state of dating in this day and age, it might just be.

“I mean, let’s face it girl. You literally don’t know the first thing about love ___, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows like in the K-dramas y’know! Haven’t you only had like one boyfriend in high school? You barely even dated that guy for a month-”

“That’s because he dumped me to go move to LA and become a dumb YouTuber!” You snapped back, cutting her off to get all the facts straight.

It was hard not to grimace while thinking of such old memories. Dating a Minecraft streamer definitely had to be one of the most embarrassingly cringe choices you’ve ever made.

“Whatever that’s beside the point. What I’m trying to get at here is you don’t have the best track record when it comes to men. Remember that other guy you were seeing before we graduated? I thought y’all would’ve dated for sure but he turned out to be a dickhole just like the rest of ‘em…” Areum shakes her head in disbelief, recalling all those times you’d call in a frenzied panic about things not working out.

“What was his name again? Min… Minwoo? No, that’s not it.. it was definitely Min something.” She attempts on remembering but keeps drawing a blank.

“Minho.” You answer almost instantaneously. His name still rolled off the tongue smooth as velvet.

It felt weird though. Saying it out loud after so many years of blocking it from your immediate vocabulary. A name you thought would never escape your lips again.

“Damn, you really still think about him don’t you?” She dares to ask, knowing how difficult it is for you to even talk about this anymore.

You only respond by nodding slowly, unable to bring yourself to look at her. It was far too intense; bearing the emotions of hurt and guilt from a past fling that meant more to you but nothing to the other. That’s how most of your tragic stories end— always too overly into them while they barely reciprocate any of that energy towards you. The thing is, you thought Minho actually liked you, even so far as wanting to date in the near future. Considering he brought you over his parent’s house (to hook up of course), and though you didn’t meet them you still think that meant something. Most men don’t just bring any woman they’re seeing to their parent’s place without somewhat thinking a potential relationship could happen down the line.

“So that’s why you should download Tinder and start swipin’ on some other cuties! It’ll at least distract you for a bit and get your mind off that asswipe,” Areum pitches her idea once more, “there’s plenty other fish in the sea ___. Not everyone online is some crazy serial killer, plus you clearly don’t seem to be having much luck out in the real world.”

You wanted to jump up from the table and erase that smirk from her face but instead you roll your eyes at that last remark. “I don’t need those shitty dating apps. I’m very capable of finding someone in real life for your information!” You quickly retort as a means to defend yourself. Even though she did have a point, her delivery could’ve been a little bit nicer.

It’s not easy being a hopeless romantic, you can’t help but yearn for that special someone to enter your life and change it for the better. You won’t feel wholly satisfied nor complete until you do. The sad reality of the matter was that you are still painfully single. No one’s interesting enough to cease your attention, let alone go on any actual dates. Areum’s had enough of your bitching and whining though, there’s only so many rants and tirades she can keep listening to about your vicious hatred for men before she loses it completely. Your nonexistent love life has become more of a nuisance as that time of year approaches— Valentine’s Day. A god forsaken holiday you’ve always loathed with a passion. Wanting nothing more than to be one of those girls on the receiving end getting flowers and chocolates. A day full of the utmost joy and pleasant surprises from your loving significant other.

Must be nice..

Speaking of surprises.. The buzzing in your ear echoes from your phone pinging loudly, indefinitely startling you. Grabbing it to check the sudden notification, your eyes go absurdly wide at the contact name displayed on your screen. Blinking numerous times from shock, you stare at your phone in incredulity; making sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

Lee Minho. The Lee Minho?

What kind of sorcery is being conjured where the instant you bring him up, he somehow texts you after all these years of not speaking? This coincidence was more than unsettling to you. A part of your inner thoughts still believes this is all some elaborate joke being played on you, waiting for a cameraman to pop out of some curtain to announce you’ve just been pranked. But nothing happens, life proceeds as normal. Now you’re left with the most puzzling notification you might’ve ever received.

It was your last year of college and the pressure of your academics along with appeasing your family was getting to you immensely. You needed an escape from all of it, desperately. Which you found through none other than Lee Minho, the boy who worked as a barista at Cozmo’s; this coffee shop you used to frequent a lot. It was a cute, small family-owned establishment and they made the best matcha lattes— in your humble opinion. You’d pick one up almost every day along with a slice of freshly baked cinnamon bread. It started off as only playful banter with him in the beginning, then it lead to more as time went on. One day, as you reached out to pay he blocked your hand from moving any closer, letting you freely walk away without spending a dime. This soon became a regular occurrence, as you’d start seeing Minho outside of work, getting to know more and more about him. You remember so desperately wanting to date back then, pitying your past self for thinking there was even a chance.

‘Maybe he’s just texted the wrong person’ you psyche yourself into thinking, but when you unlock your phone to finally read the message — an uncomfortable lump forms in the pit of your throat.

Minho 🐈:

Hey is this still ___’s number?

You honestly don’t know why you still have his number saved, let alone allowing a whole emoji to be next to it. Though it never was like you to delete anything, no matter how painful it may have been. More lingering questions makes you want to seek out the possible solutions. Why would he text you of all people ? None of this adds up in your mind realistically. Furrowing your brows in concentration, you think of what to say as you draft out a response.

Yes… who’s this?

After a tedious struggle of typing out multiple paragraphs and immediately deleting them, you went over your words a few more times before sending a final reply. It would’ve been strange had you knew exactly who he was off the bat, that’ll just be dead giveaway you still had his contact info saved this whole time. But with that logic, doesn’t that make Minho just as odd for still keeping your number after all this time has passed?

Your phone dings again.

Minho 🐈:

Srsly -_-

Did you really delete my number??

Bet he didn’t see that one coming. He probably thought the moment he texts you, you were gonna kiss up to him like you’ve always done in the past. Mentally giggling to yourself at the image of him getting flustered by you not knowing who he was at first. Feels good to know you knocked his confidence down a peg.

Lol, chillax.. I know it’s you Minho :P

Not even a minute later, a flood of incoming messages appear. Biting your lip out of nervousness, your heart couldn’t stop beating so fast— anxiously checking your phone as the atmosphere around you suddenly gets stuffier.

Minho 🐈:

Better be lucky I didn’t block you after that ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

Guess who’s back in the city btw. Did ya miss me? ;)

No need to answer that, I already know you did. You should stop by at Cozmo’s again sometime!

Also what’re you up to this week? I need you to clear out all your plans because I’m taking you out on a date.

You always knew Minho was the bold type but this was on another level. The sheer audacity he has to even ask something like this after not reaching out for almost 3 years was more than ballsy on his part. It felt like a surge of butterflies erupting in your stomach, getting lightheaded as you think about seeing him again. He really had an effect on you like no other.

Glancing up from your screen to finally pay attention to Areum again, you assure her everything’s going to be just fine. “Looks like I won’t be needing to download Tinder after all.”

Later on that day you ended up going to Cozmo’s and meeting up with Minho. It never really took much convincing from him to get you to budge, though it was a hell of a lot worse back then. You used to blindly follow along with anything he said just to seek his approval, hoping that eventually he’ll see you as the girl he wants to settle down with. Alas, nothing ever blossomed into something more, and you knew deep down that this was headed nowhere— but that still didn’t stop you from fantasizing about a future with him. Getting lost into deep thought, head heavy in the clouds as you imagine the idea of Minho confessing his undying love for you. You’ll be so caught off guard as he gets down on one knee, looking at you with the entire solar system in eyes while he proposes in the most charming way. It really is pitiful how much you still daydream about a guy who wasn’t your boyfriend but would constantly act like he was, then up and leaves without mentioning a single word about it.

You convinced yourself he ran off with someone else to have a better life with, even hearing through town gossip that he’s moved to South Korea to pursue becoming an idol. Whatever the case may be it still weighed heavily on your mind that he never bothered to tell you anything, even a simple ‘goodbye’ would’ve sufficed the empty hole in your heart. The main reason you agreed on meeting up with Minho was to finally ask, why? Why did he pretend to like you? Why did he act like your boyfriend when he never had intentions on seriously dating? Why was he so good at making you fall so hard for him..?

“You look great.” You subconsciously blurt out, affixed in a daze as you stare in awe at the man in front of you.

It’s been a while since you came here— never able to fully bring yourself to try and go back. Though you knew this place first, and they really did have the best Mactha lattes in the universe. It reminded you too much of him and you sadly had to let it go.

You weren’t proud of it but you did go home quickly to change clothes and redo your makeup. Usually you wouldn’t care but this was the only guy you’ve been consistently crushing on for years, you had to feel good inside and out. Minho was just as gorgeous as you remembered, if not he looked even more ethereal — which seemed impossible in itself already. He’s grown up so beautifully, his facial features became more sharp, especially his jawline which looks so defined and sculpted by the Gods.

Minho lightly chuckles at your timidness, some things just never change. “You look way better.” His lips drew into a faint smirk as he admires your presence.

He meant every word of what he said, you looked really good, and it was making him even more frustrated that so much time has passed. Regretting the way he handled things so many years ago, wishing he could take it all back and do everything differently. Seeing you again made it easier for Minho to suppress the guilt he’s borne for so long. This moment feels like a second chance to make amends for his past mistakes.

You couldn’t help but blush when you hear his compliment, feeling your ears grow hot as you look at the ground. There was a silent pause between you that lasted for what seemed like ages. Weirdly enough the conversation flowed well after he finally broke the awkwardness, the chemistry was overall still there and were able to pick up right where it left off.

“I’m so glad you came ___, I’ve been dying to see you since I got here. I’m surprised you even still responded to my lame ass.”

Minho’s light confession puzzles you. If he really was dying to see you, why’d he wait so long to get in contact with you? To be fair, you don’t know the exact time he came back.

“Oh, is that so? When’d you come back? Also show me pics of Korea, I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like there.” You fondly inquire, leaning against the side of the wall as he’s still behind the counter. He mentioned to you he’s only working part time because his parents would rather mooch off their son for free labor than to hire and pay a new employee.

“Yesterday,” he quickly states before taking out his phone to scroll through his gallery, “guess my sister must’ve told you I went there huh?”

You shook your head, “Nah, I haven’t talked to Elle in a while. She’s tried hitting me up a few times though.. but I found out through Areum ‘cause she was seeing Hoseok back then.”

They were definitely “seeing” each other alright, but mostly in the bedroom. Areum didn’t want anything exclusive with Hoseok and neither did he, it was the perfect friends with benefits situation. Minho and Hoseok were good friends who’ve known each other for a while, so naturally he’d tell Areum everything and overshare at some point.

“Agh, there’s a customer gotta take this. One sec, sorry!” He briefly apologizes before bringing his attention to the new person heading inside. You nod, signaling he’s good to go. “I’ll be waiting over there,” you point to a small wooden table with 2 chairs in a corner.

Once Minho comes back you notice he’s no longer wearing his purple work apron; back in his regular attire now and sporting an oversized dark grey hoodie that was three times too big. He was holding a large cup with green liquid and a paper bag in his hand, that’s when it clicks for you— he still remembers your favorite meal.

He’s grinning the whole time he’s handing you the matcha latte and cinnamon pastry, smiling from ear to ear like a kid on Christmas Day. This was the most you’ve seen him be so enthusiastic about something, even back when you were “with” him you can’t recall him beaming with such energy like this.

“Awh, thank you. I haven’t had either one of these in years!” You wanted to give him the biggest hug but you refrained from doing so, feeling as though it may be too early for that.

“Of course dear, anything for you.”

Why does everything he says have to make you melt from the inside out? It’s not fair! >:(

Glancing down at your yummy beverage, you see a message written on the side of the glass with bold permanent sharpie. Tilting your head to read it, the words are bit jumbled together but you get the gist. You’re almost left speechless after it reads: ‘___, Will you be my valentine?’

Your most dreaded and least favorite holiday is here, yippee! But, there’s a twist on this year’s turn of events; you actually have someone to celebrate this wretched tradition with. You should be excited but all you’re feeling is the sudden urge to vomit as you were nervous out of your mind. This was kind of weird to you, going on a date with your ex boyfriend who was never even your real boyfriend. Looking back on it now you shouldn’t have tolerated a relationship dynamic like that, Minho was clearly taking advantage of your passiveness by not explicitly saying what he wanted. On the contrary, you had no one to blame but yourself, you never spoke up or criticized anything even if it didn’t coincide with your personal morals.

The fact he never took you on an actual date until now speaks volumes, you obviously didn’t have enough self worth back to demand better treatment. It took you years of figuring out what a real, healthy relationship is supposed to be like through trials of therapy and that was an emotional rollercoaster in itself. All your uncertainties soon faded away once you became more secure and knew exactly what you wanted for yourself. It took every ounce of patience and acceptance to unlearn all your bad coping mechanisms and other toxic behaviors that were only stunting your inner growth. You’re happy to be in a position now where you’re able to express wholeheartedly what you deserve, it’s the best feeling ever to feel like you’re in control of your own life.

You spent almost 3 hours getting ready and your bedroom now looked like a war zone. The outfit you chose was super girly, a frilly white dress with pink platform heels— Minho’s going to drool in amazement when he sees you. When you sent Areum photos of you before heading out, she responds right way with a series of hearts and other sweet comments— hyping you up to no end like the best friend she is. She’s also able to help pull you out of your doubtful headspace, when you felt unsure if you could really go through with this she quickly psyched you out of it. Reminding you exactly who you are and why you are the prize, not him. ‘He should be the one who’s nervous, not the other way around’ you assure yourself over and over as a mini ego boost.

His jaw dropped when he spotted you walking up to his car, infatuated by how pretty and perfect you looked in every way possible. It angers him so much to know he took all this for granted, he didn’t appreciate all of you the way he should’ve but now he gets another chance to redo everything and right his wrongs. It’s a lot of pressure but he bravely accepts it, he could never mess up another opportunity like this again. The car ride was fairly silent in the beginning, you were vibing in peace as the only thing you could hear was Minho’s soft indie playlist as background music.

You ultimately chose to be the one to speak first, breaking the ice with a simple inquiry about the date. “So where are we going?” Looking out at the scenery from the window, all you is trees and more trees. If it’s something to do with nature you surely don’t want any parts of it, you’ve never been too fond of the wilderness.

“It’s a surprise, I can’t tell you.” He keeps a tight seal on today’s destination without dropping a single hint, forcing you to go completely blind into this. As he goes back to focus on the road, you sigh anxiously after hearing him refuse to disclose anything.

Did he seriously forget what kind of person you are? Anyone who’s close to you at all knows you’ve never been into those types of things. Ever.

“You know I hate surprises Minho,” you remind him, attempting to pry for more information. Even shooting him a doe eyed look along with poking out your bottom lip, but he doesn’t falter.

He simply nods, “I know but you’ll like this one, just have a little bit of faith me.” Flashing an innocent smile at you, he seems to be overly confident in whatever his plan consists of.

After almost half an hour passes the car finally comes to a stop, you scan the area and instantly notice a sense of familiarity among the place. Across from you was an ice cream parlor you thought didn’t exist anymore. But there it is, still standing with dozens of customers waiting in line. The small shop was famously known for its fish-shaped ice cream cones, you’ve always wanted to visit the place and try it when you were a little from seeing it on TV all the time. When you told Minho about it, you said how your parents would say it was too far but it actually closed down and they didn’t know how to tell you. From time to time you’d still think about that place, but you would’ve never thought they relocated. Being here with Minho brings an indescribable amount of happiness to your spirit.

“I mentioned this place like one time in passing, how’d you even remember?” You wonder in amazement, after all these years he still remembers something as minuscule as this.

“It may not have seemed like it but I paid attention to every little detail you told me ___, all it. Of course I know you don’t like surprises but how else would I have been able to take you here?” He sweetly expresses to you, not wanting to hold back anymore.

You wanted to cry right here, right now. All your emotions came crashing down at once and it’s hard to keep them concealed. A lot has changed within these years, things feel so different with him now, especially with how much he’s matured. You notice how he doesn’t act like the typical fuckboy in his early 20’s anymore, he’s much more interested in getting to know only person — that being you.

“I’ve rehearsed this in my head like a million times and I don’t think I’ll ever say it the right way I want but it’s time I start being as transparent as possible with you…” Minho takes a deep breath before continuing, “I’ve always liked you ___, from the start actually,” he keeps going, “I was just scared, of what I don’t know.. Commitment maybe?”

Slightly looking in another direction, your vision faintly blurs from tears welling up, “I- I honestly don’t know what to say..”

“Then don’t say anything at all, I don’t need you to. I may not know the first thing about how to love someone, but I want to learn all of it with you.” He feels all the remorse of leaving you alone for all these years, unable to process the pain you must’ve endured at him not getting into contact with you. “I’m so sorry ___. For everything, I’m going to make it all better I promise.”

Your eyes subconsciously flutter shut when he comes in contact with you. Connecting in perfect symmetry with your lips to sync together in motion. His gentle hands cupped your face delicately; his touch was so warm and inviting. Your fingers were deeply tangled in his brunette locks, relishing every minute as he tilts his head to capture more of you. He genuinely couldn’t believe he went this long without kissing these luscious lips again. His tongue grazed the bottom of your lip to subtly ask for entry and you comply. Dopamine floods both your senses like a series of fireworks going off, feeling intoxicated by each other’s taste. It was probably that vanilla bean chapstick you always wore— an old favorite of his and is still your go-to flavor of choice. He wanted to savor you in this moment for as long as he could, cherish the fact he has you in his hold again.

“Want to know something funny?” He asks out of nowhere, still smirking from that heated kiss that just happened seconds ago.

“Hm?”

“You’re the reason I ended up coming back here.” Minho states bluntly, no hesitation detected in his voice whatsoever.

You struggle to comprehend anything, overwhelmed by all his sudden confessions. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I never want to leave your side ever again ___. I’m staying here with you, I already made the biggest mistake of losing you once I can’t let the same thing happen twice.” He spoke tenderly from the bottom of his heart, it felt so genuine you couldn’t not believe him.

Going back to rewind time isn’t possible, but “do-over’s” are, and sometimes we’re able to get those second chances to make things right when we get them wrong the first time.

[End <3].

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m0nsterqzzz · 2 months

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Cat's Out of the Bag La Rue

pairing: Clarisse La Rue x reader

summary: Valentines Day rolls around, and what kind of girlfriend would Clarisse be if she didnt get you the only present you've been wanting?

a/n: i wrote like 5 fucking valentines day fics yesterday (one with natasha, one with wanda, one with clarisse, one with carol danvers, and one with katniss everdeen) yet this is the only one im posting and i kinda hate it. literally the shortest oneshot i've ever written. also, I'm literally a dog person writing about cats. what has life come to?

is this the worst thing i've ever written? yes. do i hate every other piece of written recently cuz im in writers block and haven't updated in like 3 weeks? also yes. im so done yall.

With a baseball cap covering her head, tucking her curls against her head and being the best disguise she could come up with, Clarisse’s eyes dart all around the cab. It zooms through the streets of New York, making the child of Are’s slightly concerned for her and her siblings safety as they get honked out. The man driving seems like he’s barely paying attention to the road, but in the end it doesn’t really matter as long as they get to their destination.

There are three children in the yellow car; Clarisse, her half brother Mark, and her half sister Ruby. They were the only ones who she could convince to come with her to town, past the safe bounds of camp half blood where nothing but their weapons can stop monsters from hunting and hurting them.

It’d be a lie to say Clarisse isn’t nervous, but she pushes the feeling down as she grips her spear tighter in her left hand.

This is for you. She’s going into town and risking getting in trouble for the end result of seeing her favorite smile. Your smile. Her partner of one year. It may not seem like a very long time to some people, but you guys are demigods. It’s surprising you made it through the year without being killed by some horrible, ugly monster.

The car stops and the guy counts the large amount of money Mark hands him before telling them to get out of his cab. It may have annoyed the teenagers on any other day, but it doesn’t bother them too much since today is a special day.

“Why are we here?” Ruby asks, eyes scanning the area around them as if sure something is going to jump out at them. In the blonde haired girl's defense, it’s very possible something will.

Clarisse gestures to the small building in front of them. It’s run down and in desperate need of a paint job, but it doesn’t matter. That’s not what grabs the child of Ares attention. It’s the small animals chilling in their little spots inside the store. That’s what she’s here for.

The sign above the small colorful store reads, “Mike’s Animals”. Boring name, but gets the point across. She can already see the little animal she came here for when they walk through the door, the loud bell ringing from the action of opening it but no employee comes to help them. Clarisse lets her siblings stare in awe at the other animals for a few months before shoving towards a section near the back. The kitten section. You had been showing her a website on your phone a few days ago, one with a different selection of the small animals. The website was for Mike’s Animals, but you explained that even though you’d really like a cat, pets aren’t allowed in Camp Half Blood. It’s a rule.

Well you wanna know what Clarisse says about that? Screw rules. What her person want’s, her person gets.

So if the police ever come around, asking you why Clarisse shoved a black and white kitten into her brother's coat pocket and then made a run for it while the store manager chased after them, that’s what you have to say.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

You're laying on your bed reading a book when your girlfriend walks in, a large box covered by a piece of fabric under one arm and a bouquet of flowers in her free hand. She ignores your siblings' gazes as she walks towards your space, setting down the box with a type of gentleness nobody in camp but you gets to see and then holding out the flowers.

They’re your favorite, clearly straight out of the flower fields by the slight glow they give off. They’re wrapped in a brown type of paper with a pink bow clearly down by one of the Aphrodite kids to hold it all together.

“Hey my love.” She starts. “These are for you.” You take the plants with a large grin on your face, bringing them closer to your face to smell the amazing natural scent coming from them. Something moves inside the box she sat on your bed, making you hold in a scream as you jump closer to your girlfriend and farther away from it. “What the hell is moving in that Clarisse?!” You ask, your siblings' attention all over you guys now.

Clarisse just laughs, but she seems slightly nervous as she puts the crate in your lap. “Just look. I hope you like it.” She continues to nervously ramble as you remove the cloth from the top of the box, letting out a small gasp when you see the small animal looking back at you with wide, curious blue eyes.

Your girlfriend stares as you gently pick him up, him instantly curling into your hold with a soft pur as you hold him close to your chest. “You um…you like him?” She asks with a small smile.

“Of course I do! He’s adorable, Risse!” She lets out a relieved sigh, laying down next to you as your siblings surround the bed trying to get a look at the animal. “You know Chiron will never let you keep that right?” One of your brothers asks with a laugh, and you frown as you look at your girlfriend.

She thinks about it for a moment before she says, “We’ll just hide him. He can lounge around the cabin while you’re gone, and you guys can hide him somewhere during cabin checks. Chiron will never know.”

Your siblings eventually leave you alone, going back to their acticicus as your two favorite beings cuddle up to you. Clarisse cuddles up next to your side, and the kitten on your stomach. “I really like you Oreo.” you whisper to the animal, making your girlfriend laugh. “Oreo? That’s the most original thing you could think of right?”

“Okay if you're so great at naming things, what should we name him?”

She goes quiet for a few seconds before mumbling in defeat, “I like Oreo.”

You guys enjoy the silence that surrounds just you guys as you pet Oreo, but then a small laugh comes from you when Clarisse gently grabs the cat and pulls him off your chest so she can lay her head there. “He’s been here for half an hour and you're already jealous?” “He was getting way too touchy. Mine.” She teases and then fakes an annoyed groan when he crawls onto her back and lays down, stretching himself out just to prove a point.

“Will you be my Valentine, my love?” She asks as she places her chin on your chest to look up at you. There's a certain softness in her eyes that you and only you get to see. In fact, it’s very, very rare you ever see the side everyone else talks about when they talk about Clarisse towards you. “You guys just don’t know her like I do.” You tell them. Not like they believe you, half of the camp still believing you somehow put a spell on her.

“Only if you’ll be mine.” You whisper back as if it’s a secret.

“Oh…this is awkward. I already agreed to be like ten other girls date.” Her voice is teasing as she tries and fails not to giggle.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.”

“Hm.” You fake being offended as you cross your arms over your chest and look away. She laughs, and the sound practically forces a smile on your face.

“I’m kidding. Only you, angel. I’m yours. Always.”

“And I’m yours, Clarisse La Rue.”

“Always?”

“And forever.”

There’s a knock on your cabin door, and you figure it’s another camper until a voice calls from the other side of the door, “Clarisse? I know you're in there. Your siblings told me where you went. Cat’s out of the bag La Rue.” Chiron says. Very terrible choice of words. She groans into your stomach, rolling off of you and successfully getting Oreo to jump off her back and onto the bed.

“Those little snitches.” She snarls as she gets up to open the door, making you instantly miss her warmth.

You place the cat under your sweater, giggling and then shoving his face back under when he crawls to put his head through the neck hole. Once she knows he’s covered, Clarisse opens the door. Chirons eyes fall to you, and it’s only then do you think about the fact that there is a giant Oreo shaped lump in your sweater.

All your siblings fall silent as they watch to see what’s gonna happen.

“Mac and cheese day am I right?” You try to joke with a nervous chuckle, but he doesn’t laugh. He just runs a hand over his face and then stares at you. “You know what? I don’t care. You find a way to feed him that isn’t taking resources from us, you make sure he doesn’t do any damage to the furniture, and you keep track of him at all times, you can keep him.”

You grin at him, letting the small animal out of your sweater who in turn lowly hisses at the sight of Chiron.

He groans, walking off as he mumbles something about needing a very long vacation. There's only so much of your girlfriend bending the rules to get you presents he can handle before he was bound to just accept it.

The cinatar leaves, your girlfriend flipping him off when he can’t see. He yells over his shoulder, “I know what you’re doing Clarisse! Stop it or no dessert!”

She stops flipping him off. Next to you, chocolate cake is what she lives for.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

That night, as you sit with Clarisse at the bonfire, she listens to you complain about how much you miss Oreo. Usually, you’d be too busy roasting marshmallows and cuddling with her to think about anything else, but your girlfriend doesn’t do anything other than smile, happy she made you so happy.

“So how’d you get him anyway? You don’t have that kind of money and there’s no way Chiron gave it to you.” You say, and she freezes in her spot on a log, slightly tightening her arms that are wrapped around your waist as she avoids your eyes.

“I stole him.” Her voice is slightly quieter than usual, and she says this in the most casual tone she can muster.

“CLARISSE LA RUE!”

#clarisse la rue #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x you #fluff #valentines day #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson series #cats #don't call my bitch the lightning theif percy!#what was that ending?#11 days late lol #valentines gifts #valentines day fic

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love-that-we-were-in · 2 months

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Let All Your Damage Damage Me

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader Summary: There's something to be said for patching up Camp Half-Blood, especially when you end up seeing more of Luke Castellan than you thought you ever would. Or 3 times Luke starts a fight and 1 time he doesn't. Word Count: 4.6k Warnings: smoking, mentions of low-grade drugs and underage drinking, implied sexual content and more teenage dirtbag luke because @initialchains was kind enough to let me steal him for evil!

a/n: this is the most brainrot i've ever brainrotted and again, all credit for this version of luke to noli. enjoy!!!

There’s this weight that carries the name Luke Castellan across Camp Half-Blood. Once, it was a new camper - years on the run with a young daughter of Athena and a fatality at the borders that drew interest. In the time since, it’s become something different, reshaped and frayed. A promising young demigod lingering on the outskirts where possible, creating his own tethers to the mortal world like it’ll detach itself from him if he doesn’t.

It confuses new campers at first, the dichotomy between how Luke is spoken of and who he is. The best swordsman in almost three centuries, a once favorite son of Hermes. To look at him then, take in his scuffed shoes and the cigarette tucked behind his ear - it makes them wonder what it took for him to fall so far out of alignment.

No one ever asks.

The conch sounds from your left and the rest of your campmates spread out across the land with a battle cry. You know how this evening goes, too many of them spent alone in the quiet of the med-bay. There’s three of you as it stands, all waiting for someone to show up with a cut to tend to as the game gets underway. Will stands outside, eyes wandering over the edges of the forest as if he can see through the trees to what’s happening within them. It’s his first summer, the thrill of camp yet to be lost on him, and you’re glad he can find excitement in being on the sidelines. Lee has already tucked himself into a corner, technically a part of the medical team but mostly waiting to tag into the game. A back-up player.

You know that within the hour, you’ll likely lose both of them to the game. It’s not something you mind, dealing with the minor injuries alone. There’s an element of peace to it, tending to everyone else’s wounds and sending them on their way. It’s what you’re best at, a healed knife wound last year the reason you were claimed. Still, it makes capture the flag last for eons - every hint of action happening further than you can see, often too far away for you to even register until someone pushes their way through your door in need of help.

So you settle in, let the peace of the evening wash over you. When one of the younger Demeter kids rushes into the room, you observe Will treating the deep cut on her arm. Disinfectant, gauze, a small bandage. When he’s done, he looks at you and you’re all too familiar with it. The longing to be part of the action. At your nod, he takes off, hot on the heels of the young girl and into the thick of battle.

Eventually one of Clarisse’s siblings bursts into the room, fire in his eyes and you can hardly blink before Lee is standing to attention. It’s the way of the game and you wave him off lightly, lowering yourself back into a chair and letting your head fall against the cool surface of the wall.

Another hour.

If you had to guess, you would say there’s less violence on the field today. It’s Annabeth’s first time leading a team, you know that, and you’re aware of the way her mind works - lower injuries, higher soldiers. There’s little doubt that she’s ran the numbers, with backup plans for her backup plans to find and steal the flag. You know you should be rooting against her, Apollo partnered with Ares this time around, but you want this victory for her.

There’s a flurry of movement from outside moments later, a groan followed by a muttered “I’m fine, Annabeth” before the girl is in front of you, frown pulling across her features.

Beside her, or rather resting his weight on her, is Luke Castellan, eyebrows scrunched together and arms covered in thin cuts.

You don’t really have much of an opinion on Luke if you’re being honest. You know the basics - a crash course given to you by Silena when you arrived at camp, actual information littered between rumors. Son of Hermes, incredible swordsman. Snuck out of camp two years ago to get a tattoo because he was drunk. Bribed Katie to start growing weed in one of the rarely used greenhouses.

Now, faced with him in a bloodied camp t-shirt and lacking his usual cigarette, you sort of want to know what’s true.

“What happened to him?” There should be more urgency to your actions, you know, but you help Annabeth guide him into one of the beds at the side of the room slowly.

“He decided to pick a fight with a bunch of kids near the lake,” Annabeth says, rolling her eyes. Even as she does, there’s this adoration that seeps out of her, the same one you’ve always known her to carry where Luke is concerned. “Three on one.”

Luke groans as you shift his position, glaring at the girl in front of him. “They deserved it. The shit they were saying.”

Part of you wants to ask, desperately. Annabeth chuckles, nudging his shoulder and says, “Yeah, I know. I already thanked you so stop fishing for compliments.”

He laughs lowly and you almost forget that there’s a real reason Annabeth would’ve brought him here. You’ve only seen Luke in this room once, late last winter, so it’s odd that he’d be here now. He tilts his chin at her, and then at the door. “Go win that flag.”

She starts to protest, talking about having faith in her team and how making sure he’s safe is more important. Still, she glances towards the door.

“He’s in good hands with me, Annabeth,” You say when she stops to breathe for a moment. She bites her lip. “I promise.”

“She promises,” Luke repeats from behind you and apparently, that’s all Annabeth needed. With a final glance between you, she retreats, working her way back into the game. “Just me and you now, Angel.”

There’s some sort of shift with Annabeth’s absence, thicker in the air and not completely unwelcome. Maybe it’s the nickname, too familiar for people having their second conversation, but there’s this way Luke says it, no intention twisting around the letters but settling warmly into your system anyway. You ignore it. “Where are you hurt, Castellan?”

He grimaces and it’s the first time you notice his hand clasped at his side. It drops and you take in the darker color of his camp t-shirt there, the way it sticks to the area damp with blood and probably a lot of sweat.

“Holy shit.”

“It’s not that bad,” he jokes and you raise an eyebrow at him. He shrugs. “I’ve had worse.”

You shake your head. “Come on then, let’s see it.”

It’s something you don’t do often, this informality with a patient. Bedside manner means something in healing but right now, you can’t think of the right way to channel it. To be gentle with Luke would feel awkward, restrictive almost, and to be too formal would just be rude at this point. What you’re doing now seems to work, if the way he grins is any indication, and you excuse yourself to the supply cabinet as he does as requested.

When you turn back around, Luke has his shirt off, legs still hanging off the side of the bed. You almost want to tell him to lay down, for your own peace of mind. Make it so you can simply treat the wound without having to look at him properly. Because Luke is…

Luke is really fucking pretty.

You’ve known he was attractive - everyone knew that. It wasn’t something openly spoken about, not with how he exists on the outskirts of camp most of the time, but it was mutually understood. For all his faults, Luke was incredibly attractive.

Now, though, even with blood covering half of his torso, he’s really fucking pretty.

“I’m just going to clean it first,” you say when you reach him and it comes out quieter than you intended. You stand in front of him and his head tilts back slightly to look at your face properly. “Do you mind if you just- I need to get a little closer to look at it.”

You expect him to turn to the side, let the wound face you a bit better. Instead, the space between Luke’s legs widens enough for you to take a step closer, almost like a challenge, and you take it anyway.

You work on instinct, wiping the blood away, pressing gentle fingertips into the skin. Habits formed over months, usually steady hands shaking just slightly as you wipe the cloth against Luke’s torso, his even breaths hitting the side of your neck at this angle.

It’s not as deep as you expected, the skin still open, completely raw but not as ugly as it could be. As what you expected it to be. Gently, you press the gauze to it, lifting your head to be met with Luke’s eyes. They’re brown. They’re brown and completely relaxed and you kind of really want to find out how wide they could get in the right situation.

“I told you it wasn’t that bad,” Luke says and you feel it more than you hear it. It shoots through your veins and you distantly remember Silena telling you that she once caught him with a line of coke. They rattle together before falling silent and you can hear your own breathing again. Luke’s too, slower than yours but close enough that you can count the length of each one.

“You still should’ve come to me when you got injured.”

“I’ll remember that next time.” It drifts across your cheeks, warming the skin there and you look back down at your hand pressed against Luke’s side. Pulling the gauze away, you quickly replace it with a clean square, sticking it in place carefully.

You run a finger across the edges before muttering, “All done.”

There’s a right thing to do. Take a step back, give Luke the privacy to redress and send him on his way with instructions for looking after the dressing. That’s what you’re supposed to do. It’s what your brain is screaming at you to do, actually, but Luke’s skin is still so warm under your palm and each breath makes you more aware of the dip in his collarbones and you can’t think of a single good reason to move away.

When his lips part, you think he’s going to give you one. Instead, he whispers, “Tell me no,” and it just makes more sense to meet him halfway than say yes.

Turns out, Luke Castellan is a really good kisser. It matches him, the blase way he leans into the action, tilts his head and adjusts the pressure to match whatever you do. Distantly, you remember to move your hand, dropping it from the gauze and resting it on his thigh instead and there’s this noise Luke makes in the back of his throat as you do so that makes you want to do it again.

He breaks off in the end, drawing in deep breaths. To see him disheveled isn’t entirely new, not with the lack of care he puts into maintaining his camp uniform, but to see him like this - dark curls run through, cheeks flushed red and lips swollen - is something else entirely. Without thinking too hard, you dip your head and place a kiss to the skin where his neck meets his shoulder. He shivers and you take it as an invitation, pressing another to his shoulder and then one to his right collarbone.

His loose grip on your hip tightens and you wonder how far you could take this before you would have to stop. Based on the low curse Luke lets out when you repeat the motions on the other side of his neck, it’ll probably take until another camper comes to find you.

Dragging your gaze down Luke’s frame, you come to the reasonable conclusion that it’s a risk you’re just going to have to take.

You expect it to happen sooner, staring at the door each evening willing it to open. A week of counting the hours, locking the med bay every night and still no sign of Luke. He’s back from his quest - Will had rushed in with the news when he’d crossed the border back into camp - but you’re yet to see him at all. Silena tried to tell you about his quest, about his failure really, and you’d shut her down before she could give you anything more than that he’d been badly injured.

Lee had been on duty the day he’d returned. Written the notes and left them filed away.

Deep scarring on the face. Nectar and ambrosia required on arrival. Patient refused monitoring.

He doesn’t offer any further insight when he catches you reading over them the next morning, just shrugs like he expected Luke to refuse his help. Like he’s surprised the other boy even showed up for treatment at all. It’s moments like that, where there’s this judgement surrounding Luke’s mere existence, that remind you of the weeks before his quest. The five hectic weeks of bruised knuckles and how soft they could be against your skin. Of how nice cigarette smoke could be coming from Luke’s lips instead of just lingering in the air.

So it catches you off guard when the knock sounds on your door, the same familiar quick raps of knuckles on the wood that you grew accustomed to hearing late into the night. He’s there, when you pry the door open, and he’s nothing like you expected.

He’s still Luke, from the ragged tee to staggered breathing, but there’s blood covering half of his face, dripping from the stretch of open skin running down his left cheek and a dip in his spine he never had before.

“Do you want to berate me first or can I just come in?”

Stepping out of the way, you gesture into the empty room. There’s a familiar routine to this now, despite the week without it, and Luke takes his usual path to the bed near the cabinets. It’s wrong, the way you attach yourself to the casualness of it, to the comfort of having him back in this space with you, instead of rushing to do your job.

But it’s Luke, a little broken maybe, but still Luke.

“Who’d you fight this time?” You ask as you dig through drawers for everything you might need. You tell yourself it’s to be prepared - you both know what it really is. “Don’t tell me the foxes are back.”

“If you think this is bad, you should see the other guy.”

It’s a running joke, borne of concern the first time Luke showed up here after curfew with a cut on jaw and nose a little more crooked than before. Something to reassure you, to stop you shifting yourself into professional mode. A way of assuring you that there was no rush.

“You didn’t have a healing scar before,” you mutter regardless, slotting yourself into the space between his legs like normal. There’s an overhead light and, from directly in front of him, you can make out the length of it, the shape of the raised skin. It’s still raw, a little puffy, but on the right track. “Or did you forget?”

“It’s not exactly easy to ignore, is it?” He shrugs, sitting straighter. “Besides, Ares kids are never all that.”

Finally, you think, lifting your hand to touch the taut skin there, there’s the bitterness you’ve heard in his voice so many times before. It’s one of those things you’ve come to recognise in Luke’s tone, the cadence of it when he actually cares, pitching lower than usual, burying itself under nonchalance.

He watches as your thumb swipes across his cheek, pulling back to observe the way it stains red. You’re used to seeing him a little damaged, easily put back together by your hand. This is something else, a reflection of how everyone else sees him - bloodied and broken and damn near unapproachable for fear of spilled blood - and you want to capture it in your brain for the future, maybe forever.

“I’m starting to think you might like me,” Luke says, hands moving from where they sit on the bed to rest on your waist. Your eyes stay locked on the pad of your thumb, watching the blood begin to seep into your skin. A beat, the brush of his warm thumb against the skin on your waist, and then, “It doesn’t hurt that much.”

It goes against so much of who you’ve always sworn to be, finding him so pretty in this moment. Taking in the red of his cheek, the way it stretches down his neck and drips onto his t-shirt. Short of taking a medical oath, you’ve promised yourself to heal. To mend. To treating the injured, regardless of your own feelings on the matter.

Of course it would only take Luke Castellan, dark eyes and tender hands, to challenge that.

“Tell me if it does,” You whisper and he licks his lower lip as he nods, wiping away some of the blood staining it as he does. The end of his quiet “promise” catches itself between your lips, mingling with the metal on your tongue and making it sweeter than you could’ve ever anticipated.

This part of Luke is all too familiar, the taste of him to the comfortable weight of yourself on him. You’d learnt on that first night what made him tick, what made its way through him and he would return to you tenfold. In the weeks since, you’ve studied them, picking them apart until there’s been nothing to do but follow them into freefall.

Now, you use them to guide you. Those small hitches in his breathing, the clearing of his throat, the slip of his palm when you press your lips to the skin above his pulse on the left and let them stain the right to match. It’ll all fade when you come back to yourself, cleaning the wound and stitching him back up, but it’s there when you lean back to look at him again, the undeniable mark of you on Luke Castellan’s skin.

“You’re really fucking pretty, you know that.”

Luke tilts his head, squinting a little to focus his gaze. It’s this thing he does whenever you get like this, observant and a tad shy, waiting for the ball to drop. You keep silent, arms still wrapped around his shoulders and knees digging into the mattress either side of his hips. It’ll pass, always.

When it does, the air changes. Not quite the same heated urgency as before, less hazy and with Luke realising the inch he’s been given, taking the mile you’ve offered in the inbetween. He’s still broken, still stained despite your best efforts to remove it, and he settles a hand in the hair at the nape of your neck as you push closer to him.

Silena told you once that it only takes twenty-one days to form a habit. She was talking about finding cigarette ends scattered around the training centre, a sure sign of Luke’s presence there each day, and how his habits had become too ingrained in him after years for them to be broken. It wasn’t true, you’d known that much, but it stayed in the back of your mind with every new one you attempted to build - daily runs, the correct amount of sleep, offering help to someone you didn’t know too well at camp. None of them ever stuck, lasting a few days at most, but it strikes you again now, Luke pushing his way through your door.

Eight weeks. More than enough time to form an alleged habit. You think, observing the flex of his arm, the thin section of ink peeking out from under his camp tee when he does, that you’ve fallen into a habit with Luke Castellan. Possibly even the habit of Luke Castellan.

It’s different this time, however. The lack of visible bruising on his own skin, for one. There’s hints of it, smatterings of black and purple stretching across his knuckles, the skin peeling slightly, but his face is unmarred save for his usual scar. You don’t often see Luke mean. Based on the clench of his fists, so tight you’re sure it must hurt, you’re not entirely sure you want to.

“Did you know that he was summoned?” He says through gritted teeth. Sometimes, you wonder if Luke knows how to start a conversation properly. It’s not something you’ve known him to do, never a hello or goodbye, just a topic spoken into the space around you both. Neverending. “Claimed while I was away getting my ass handed to me by a dragon and then summoned for a discussion with Hermes.”

You understand, then, why his entire body is tense. A carefully curated reputation tumbling down around him after years. The fallen son of Hermes finally getting some comeuppance for his impudence. Being replaced, in spite of dedication given to people who couldn’t stand to be around him. It’s not the first time you’ve been upset for him, but it is the first time it’s made you ache for justice.

“I heard he got back this morning.”

Luke hums and you watch as his cheek hollows, knowing how his teeth are indenting on the skin inside. “Came to find me first thing. To tell me all about it.”

“He came to rub it in.”

“Good girl,” he smiles, the first since walking in, and the combination burns low in your gut. A habit takes twenty-one days to form and it took Luke seventeen to understand the effect those words had on you. “I swung for him before I even realised I was doing it.”

You perch yourself on the edge of one of the beds, keeping careful track of his movements across the room. “This might be the first time you’ve come here and the other guy is actually going to look worse.”

It does what you wanted it to, drags a chuckle out of him and releases the tension from his shoulders. “I bumped into Will on my way here. Sent him to patch him up and keep him far away from me.”

“Are you telling me you planned to get me alone in the med bay, Castellan?”

His nose scrunches, stealing the last of his rage from the air and twisting it into something different. “You were already alone in the med bay. I just planned to take advantage of it.”

The change in dynamic isn’t lost on you, so unused to starting in these positions, but you let it linger for a moment anyway. Ground yourself in the knowledge that Luke knows you, knows your breathing and your movements and your heartbeat. It doesn’t take twenty-one days to build a habit, and you’re far from breaking this one.

“Tell me no,” Luke says and it echoes in a way it hasn’t before. Joins the dust in the air and settles in the sunlight from the high windows. You take a breath. He releases one. “Tell me yes.”

It’s something you should think about more, letting him ingrain himself in your space the way you have been. Patching him up is one thing, borne from consideration and oath and demanded by a higher power than yourself. In the dark nights of camp, you can pretend the time you spend with him doesn’t count for much - that it barely exists if you want to. That’s how you’ve navigated it so far, pretending not to know the calluses on his hands during demonstrations, brushing it off when Silena points out how he’s been getting into more fights these past few months.

You should leave Luke Castellan in the shadows, a boy mended in dim lighting and known through hushed conversations.

But you know the taste of smoke from his lungs, the press of his lips on your skin. You know his blood and his sweat and his mumbled curses. You know more about him than anyone in this camp, maybe in this world, and you’re the only one who cares to trace it over again and again until you can recite him line by line.

“Yes, Luke,” It comes out louder than intended, completely defined. “Please.”

Whatever it is about it, the assuredness or the plea, it’s what he needs, crashing into you like it’s all he’s ever wanted to do. There’s an easy confidence to the way he touches you now, swallows the sounds you make to keep them for himself, keeps you half-hidden from the daylight peering in like it’ll protect you both. You bury yourself under his skin, nails and teeth and take parts of him with you when you let go.

It’s risky, slightly too hurried for how important it feels, but it makes sense with each breath you share. Fits itself to the bitterness that frays your edges, hems them into something more palatable. Luke’s mumbles are half-formed against your skin and yours are incomplete in air and they stick together as something no one else could translate.

You can’t define this, not with a theory or a diagnosis, but you think it could fall neatly into your notes as a categorised addiction.

With Luke’s soft curls between your fingers, you kind of forget how to care.

“You know, I could probably beat you in a fight.”

Luke chuckles, flicking the ash from his cigarette to the ground behind your cabin. It’s a new thing, hiding yourselves away in new locations, and you’re sort of fascinated with the way he chooses where to go. No rhyme or reason. “You think?”

“I would bet so much money on it if we actually got paid here,” You nod, rocking back on your heels. He’s nicer like this, bathed in moonlight and at peace with his surroundings. It’s something you’ve become accustomed to, the casual dichotomy of Luke at night, unburdened by rumours. “I would bet your chain on it.”

You’re not serious, he knows that - the silver necklace is one of the few things he actually treasures - but it’s funny to see his face lift in disbelief as you say it. He presses the end of his cigarette out under his shoe and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop the smile threatening to come out.

“You really think you could beat me in a fight?”

You take a step back with each one he takes forward, only to find yourself pressed against your cabin seconds later. Luke’s smile changes, twists a little more into a smirk, and you let yourself relax into it. Instead of an answer, you hum lightly. His hands land either side of your head and you feel yourself smile before you remember to stop it.

“Take it back,” he whispers and it drifts across your cheekbones. You drop your gaze to the peek of silver above his camp shirt, curling a finger underneath the metal so the charm dangling from it drops into full view. You glance back at him, his gaze dropping from your face to hand on his chest. “Please.”

Wrapping your hand around the cool metal, you tug him the short distance between you and it feels like the better response when Luke smiles against your lips.

#🖋️ abi writes…#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #luke castellan x you

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sxcretricciardo · 2 months

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F1 Hit Couple

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

You are now sitting in front of the cameras for the Netflix series Drive to Survive. You’re already a pro, being here since the first season, this is easy for you. But, this is gonna be the first time that you and Daniel get both interviewed as a couple.

You’re scrolling trough instagram on your phone when the door opens and Daniel steps in.

“Sorry for being late, mate” Danny says to the producer. You swear you fall in love with his Australian accent everyday. The team mics him up and then he sits beside you and gives you a passionate kiss. You haven’t seen each other in a week since he had to go to Australia because of his mother.

“It’s okay, Daniel. Well, we can get started then.” The producer says, smiling and the cameras start rolling.

“So, how did you guys meet?” The producer asks.

“Well, I had just entered the F1 joining Renault for the 2017 season. I had just came from F2 where I was champion and Renault took a chance with me and I happily accepted. I knew the team was expecting the best of me and I made sure to not let them down. Daniel was the second one to meet me, the first was Nico, obviously” You say, laughing. The crew laughed alongside you. “And he came down to our garage to meet the new driver. I guess everyone was expecting a guy, since Renault kept our contract a secret until the last minute, very few people knew that it was me joining the team. Once Daniel looked at me, and I still remember this very well, his face was of pure shock.”

“It wasn’t shock, really. I knew it was going to be a woman driver, and I was really excited to meet you because we never had a female driver before, and I wanted to make sure that you were welcomed with open arms. And the moment I laid eyes on you, I was star struck.” Danny confesses.

“What was your first thought when you saw Y/N?” The producer asks.

“That she was really beautiful and the second I got to know her the more, I knew that she had an even more beautiful personality. On top of that, she’s the funniest person I’ve ever met.” Danny says. You start blushing.

“That’s why you’re both called the funniest duo on the grid.” The producer says.

“Really? I didn’t know that!” You say, laughing.

“Really? I thought that was pretty obvious.” Danny says.

“How does competing alongside your partner in Formula 1 affect your personal relationship? Is it a positive or negative influence?” The producer asks.

“I think it’s very positive. Having someone that understands you and motivates you. We both know the sacrifices that we have to make to be in this sport and it helps a lot that we’re both in it because we get to spend a lot of time together.” You say.

“Yeah, I agree. I see the guys on the grid saying they’re missing their girlfriends and talking to them on the phone and I’m just ‘don’t mind me, I’m just gonna walk next door and kiss mine’ you know?” Danny says, laughing.

“What about summer break, do you also spend it together?” The producer asks.

“In the first two weeks Daniel flies to Australia to meet his family and I fly to see mine. Then, we spend the rest of the following days together.” You say.

“Do you ever give each other strategic advice during races?” The producer asks.

“Yeah, if I’m being honest, I wouldn’t be where I am today if I didn’t take the best out of Daniel’s advices. He has the experience and wisdom that I don’t have yet. He’s been trough a lot in his career and he’s my go to guy when it comes to advices.” You sincerely say.

From the corner of your eye you see Daniel smiling.

“Does Daniel go to you to get advices?” The producer asks.

“Sometimes, yeah.” You say.

“She sees the track with other eyes, you know? She has a completely bold strategy and I sometimes I really need to be bold.” Danny says.

“Daniel, what do you think are Y/N best individual strengths and weaknesses?”

“She’s fearless when it comes to driving that car. She doesn’t care about the risks when her eyes are only set on one goal, set on winning. She takes decisions that most of us wouldn’t have the balls to do so. And sometimes that can make her reckless and make poor decisions too and I think she has already realized this.” Danny says.

“Yeah, that’s true. I remember that in my first year of Formula 1 I would make poor decisions and as in result I had to retire the car because of that. Then, after those races, I would go to Daniel and ask what did I do wrong and he was brutally honest. I needed that.” You say.

“And what about Daniel? What is his best individual strengths and weaknesses?”

“He’s wise. He knows the tracks like the palm of his hands and knows the best strategies to basically fly through them. His weakness is that he thinks too much. Sometimes he has to take some risks in order to win.” You say.

“When one of you gets the podium and the other doesn’t, how do you guys react to that?”

“Well, it’s a mix of feelings. Of course you’re happy for your partner when they get the podium but, it’s undeniable that you’re also disappointed with yourself for not being there too. You need to separate the worlds. When Y/N is on the podium, you need to be the supportive partner and celebrate her, because there will be plenty of time to think about a strategy to beat her next.” He says and laughs.

“We agreed to separate the track from our personal lives since we started dating. And we’ve done that beautifully.” You say.

“Has ever been arguments about that?” The producer asks.

“Never!” You say.

“Let’s talk about a more sensitive matter.” The producer says.

“Love those.” Danny ironically says.

“Spa 2020.” The producer says.

“Ugh, I knew this was coming.” You laugh nervously.

“What happened?” The producer asks.

“I was on P4 when suddenly Grosjean’s car looses control and crashes into mine and we both hit the barricade at 200 miles per hour. I passed out for a few moments and when I woke up, I could only see fire around me. That’s when my fight or flight mode turned on and I try to get out of that car the fastest I can. When I go reach my seatbelt I find out that it’s stuck and it takes me a whole minute to get it out. Once I’m able to finally get out of the car, I only remember walking like a meter or so and then everything goes black.” You say, remembering the almost tragic day. “I only remember waking up in the hospital after that with a burned hand and getting some oxygen out into me because I breathed in too much smoke while I was trying to get out, that’s why I passed out.”

You feel Daniel’s hand on your lap, as a gesture of reassurance.

“That was a fun day.” You say, laughing to revive the mood of the room.

“It really wasn’t.” Daniel says, letting out a nervous laugh.

“How was it like for you?” The producer asks Danny.

“As soon as my engineer told me that was a red flag, I had this really bad feeling. I remember asking what happened and to who it happened and there was radio silence, I knew it was Y/N. And as soon as we all stopped in the paddock I remember getting out of the car and looking for Y/N. That was when they gave me the news that she had crashed and it was bad. My instinct was to immediately run to where she was and no one could stop me. When I got there, the paramedics told me that she was going to be okay and I got so relieved.” He lets out a nervous laugh and continues “I was not going to continue the race, all I wanted was to be with her but she was the one telling me to continue and remember me that in that track we’re drivers and that I needed to win that race. And that’s what I did.”

“You finally got P1 in that season.” The producer says.

“Yeah, but I didn’t really enjoy it. All I wanted was to get down that podium and run to the hospital, to be with her.” He says.

“There’s a lot of highs about dating when you’re in Formula 1 but the lows can be really low. Your instinct is to be with your significant other when they crash or have to retire the car but you know you need to race, it’s your job and you can’t get away with it. All you can do is win to have something to celebrate about. Deep down you know they are in the right hands.” You say.

“When covid hit, where were you guys?” The producer asks.

“We were living our lives, you know? We took that time off the track to really align ourselves with each other, to connect even more.” Danny says and you smile.

“And made the decision to get our own place. So, Covid for us was all about house hunting.” You say, laughing.

“What are your goals for the future in Formula 1?” The producer asks.

“Well, the championship is always my goal, it will always be. And I’m going to make sure that I win it next year.” Daniel says.

“And for you, Y/N?” The producer asks.

“Well, this past year was amazing for me. I got my championship and I’m really happy about that. But, next year I won’t be racing in the F1.” You say and look at Daniel who nods.

“And why is that?” The producer asks.

“I’m have to take a break for some time because I’m pregnant.” You say, smiling from ear to ear.

Everyone on the crew congratulates you and Danny.

You stand up and lift of your shirt just enough to show your little bump on camera. Danny gently presses his hand on your belly.

“Daniel Ricciardo Jr. is cooking in there.” He says, laughing.

“Well, if it’s a boy we’re definitely not calling him that.” You say as you sit down.

“Do you want a boy or a girl, Daniel?” The producer asks.

“I just want him or her to come healthy so it doesn’t really matter, mate.” He says.

“Well, next week we’ll know for sure.” You say and smile.

You feel realized. You have an amazing career, and amazing boyfriend and now you’re gonna have your little family. It’s heaven on earth.

#daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 #f1 imagine #max verstappen #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #lewis hamilton #lando norris

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borathae · 3 months

Text

“You and your friends celebrate girl’s night at the penthouse. This however, isn’t an excuse for Jungkook not to receive his welcome home kisses. You won’t complain, he’s your cutie after all.”

Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Fluff, casual BDSM

Warnings: just girlies being best friends <3, they talk very freely about kink, she shows off her playroom, mentions of sex work & BDSM events, mommy kink, Kookie being her cute Bunnybaby <3

Wordcount: 2.5k

a/n: i reread the caravan chapter of aaol and in it, Koo mentions that she can bring her girl friends over for girl's night whenever she wants to. so i wrote something about that feat. Koo being a cutie. have fun besties 🤎

You had your girls over tonight. It has been ages since you last saw them and it couldn’t be any more exciting to have them stay at your place. You call it your Paradis Girls’ Sleepover. Hyejin brings the snacks, Byulyi the drinks, Yongsun is responsible for the face masks and Wheein brings candles. You offer them your guestrooms to sleep in, comfy pajamas to wear and fluffy socks to show off.

The sleepover started at four. Hyejin and Wheein were the first to arrive. Like always. Yongsun was next and Byulyi came last. You all greeted each other with happy squeals and tight hugs, falling into excited conversation instantly. Your voices overlapped, everyone had something to tell and unsurprisingly, nobody was heard. You giggled about it and then agreed on taking turns telling your stories.

Yongsun and her now-fiancé are currently trying for a baby and are moving apartments. She stopped working at Paradis four months ago. You knew of the last fact of course because you and the others were her emotional support cheerleader in the group chat during the process. She doesn’t miss the work and says that sex with her partner feels so much better all of a sudden.

“That’s what I’m always saying. Sex hits so good when you’re only doing it with your love”, you say, snacking on some salted pretzels.

“Yeah I agree, it hits hard. You’re especially lucky though. Kook’s kinky as fuck”, Yongsun says as she sips on her makgeolli.

“Is Shiwon vanilla?” Wheein asks, “that’s news to me.”

“Oh hell no, not vanilla. Just not as kinky as Kook. You guys have a playroom. That’s so hot.”

“Oh, yes right!” you exclaim, clapping into your hands, “Yongsun, do you still wanna tell us more? Because I just remembered that we redid the toy shelves and you didn’t even see them yet.”

“Okay slay. Please show us”, Hyejin says, “unless you still want to talk, Yongsun. We don’t wanna cut your time short.”

“No, I can still talk during the house tour. I need to see the new shelves.”

“Slay. Let’s do that”, Hyejin says and gets up from the couch.

You and the other girls follow.

“Did you realise that you’ve started saying slay all the time?” Byulyi asks.

“Yes god so annoying”, Hyejin groans, “I’m watching this streamer and she keeps saying slay all the time. I can’t stop doing it because of her. Last night, I literally told one of my customers slay after we finished”, she whines, making your little group chuckle.

“Did he say something?”

“Yeah, he asked me what it meant and I had to explain to him. He said that he didn’t get it and then left. Weirdo, it’s not like he wanted to lick cheese sauce outta my belly button before that.”

Wheein cracks up, you and the others laugh as well. You can clearly imagine how weird that customer was. You had so many of those during your time at Paradis.

You chat about the streamer on the way to the playroom. Hyejin tells you that she really likes her streams and that she always watches them in the evening during dinner and her night routine. She then proceeded to gush about this new rice water moisturiser she is trying, which in return made Byulyi think of how she got a new favourite brand of rice. Conversation shifted to Byulyi and her favourite brand of rice and how she thought of so many recipes already. Wheein asked for them and Byulyi gladly shared them.

You keep the door to the playroom open, turning on the lights.

Your girls gasp and coo in unison, looking around the playroom with sparkling eyes.

“This won’t ever lose its spark”, Yongsun gushes, “it’s so hot. Seriously I’m getting all wet just being here.”

“Totally understand you”, Wheein agrees.

“Wait till you see the upgraded toy drawers. That’ll make your clits throb”, you tell them, leading them to the drawers with a happy skip in your steps.

The ladies follow you happily, looking left and right to really take in everything.

“Is that swing new?”Hyejin asks.

“Mhm? That?” you look at the black leather sex swing, “I think you girls haven’t seen it yet, but we’ve had it for like seven months.”

“Slay. Did you use it already?”

“What do you think?” you say and grin mischievously.

“Huge slay.”

Byulyi laughs because of Hyejin, patting her back sisterly.

“It’s sturdy. Also it gives me a good grip on Kook. I can really go to town on him when he’s in there”, you say.

“I can imagine”, Yongsun says, “pegging in a swing just hits so much harder”

“Yeah definitely”, Wheein agrees.

You nod your head and turn to the drawers, “now look at those drawers.”

You and your girls gather in front of them as you open them and reveal your vibrator collection to them.

“Woow so cool”, they gasp.

“Right? Right? Check out the lighting in there. Helloo? We have drawer lights”, you gush, waving your hands around in the drawer.

“That’s genuinely so fucking cool. And the pillowing too. It makes the toys look so expensive”, Byulyi gushes, poking her finger into the velvety pillowing.

“And now check this out”, you say, pushing the drawer closed. It slides closed carefully, slowing down on the last few inches before closing silently, “they have a fucking automatic break in them. Remember the stupid ass drawers in Room 14?”

“They are still getting stuck each time you close them. Trust me, I’m still struggling”, Wheein says.

“I know right. God”, you groan and open the drawer again just to show off its closing mechanism to them, “look at how smooth that is.”

“This is so cool, seriously. Now stop closing the damn drawers I wanna see the collection”, Byulyi says, making you laugh.

“Okay, okay fine. A girl can’t do anything here”, you joke.

Byulyi chuckles deeply, looking into the drawer with a lopsided smirk on her lips.

And so you show them your new toys and give them a few details about how it is to play with them. You show them your pegging dildo collection and Wheein asks about Jungkook’s progress, which you proudly show them. They react in coos and honest praise and you felt so proud of your husband. There is no better feeling in the world than being able to show off with him.

And there are also no better people to do it to than your friends. You share everything about your sex lives. No topic, kink or fetish is taboo. Conversations about them are normal to you and them and part of the bond you share. You honestly think that if you suddenly stopped being so open with each other, the friendship would feel weird. Sex was what brought you five together, it is what you first bonded over as you had to talk shit about weird customers and even now, when two of your little group stopped working at the club, sex will still be a topic keeping you together. After all, there are many kink events where the five of you and your partners go to together. The shared love for kink and fetish is just part of your identities and a big reason why you loved to be friends.

It is obvious how normal kink conversations are in your friendship, when in the middle of you showing off the sturdiness of your flogging post, Byulyi begins talking about her rice again and you all exchange recipes.

By the time the clock showed eight, Jungkook comes home from work. You and your girls were back in the living room again, but still haven’t started the movie you actually wanted to watch. Conversation was just too good to interrupt it with movies.

Jungkook is a welcome interruption however. You look at the elevator until its doors open and reveal Jungkook in his business attire.

“Hey there!”

“Yuhuu!”

“Welcome home, Kook!”

“Helloo!”

Your girls greet your husband happily, giving him enthusiastic waves.

His eyes light up instantly.

“Hey there, girls”, he greets them, stepping out of the elevator, “hey, my love”. he tells you.

“Hey, Bunny. How was work?”

“Okay. I’ll just quickly take off my outside clothes and then I’ll be with you, okay?”

“Okay.”

Jungkook disappears in the dressing room for a moment.

“He worked later today, didn’t he?”

“No, he went for dinner with a friend. I told him to take his time. I’m surprised he’s home already.”

Jungkook reappears again, making his way to you. He looks so handsome in his grey suit that you can’t stop making heart eyes at him.

“___ says that you went for dinner with a friend?” Wheein asks him.

“Yeah, Tae. We had pork ribs. It was so yummy and I ate way too much. My pants are uncomfy now”, he says, tugging on the hem of them to give his tummy a well-deserved break, “I had to drive home with my pants undone”, he says and makes you laugh.

“I understand you so well”, Wheein says, “it’s kinda nice too though. I like being so full with food ‘cause it means that the food was yummy.”

“Yeah definitely.”

“So why are you home already?” Hyejin asks.

“Actually, funny story. Tae had to hurry home because his daughter suddenly got explosive diarrhea and his wife begged him to help her with it.”

“Eew really?”

“Yeah”, Jungkook laughs, “apparently it went all over the walls?”

“Eeew that’s so nasty eeww”, Hyejin says jokingly, “you sure you wanna get knocked up, unnie?” she teases Yongsun.

“Haha, very funny.”

“You and Shiwon are trying for a baby?” Jungkook asks.

“Yup, at least we’re trying for one. I can’t say that I’m hating the process.”

Jungkook laughs, “I can imagine.”

He finally reaches the couch, scanning his eyes over the snacks and drinks.

“Don’t look at the drinks”, Byulyi says, covering the glasses of makgeolli with her hands.

Jungkook chuckles, “it’s fine. I don’t mind looking at alcohol. You girls enjoy”, he says and closes in on you.

He gets on your lap and hugs you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You hug him back instantly, smiling dreamily.

“Hey, Mommy”, he says.

“Hey there, Bunny.”

“How was your day?”

“Good. And yours?”

“Okay. I had too many meetings”, he huffs out air, “so annoying.”

“Gosh, I’m sorry Bunnybaby. But you did it, I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, Mommy”, he giggles happily, “I thought of you during the meetings.”

“You did?”

He nods his head and lifts it so he gazes into your eyes.

“I also have to fly to Shanghai for two nights. I gotta meet with a few business partners”, he says and pouts.

“When are you leaving?”

“Wednesday. I should be home by Friday night again”, he sacks his shoulders, “I’m sorry. I know this is really last-minute, but I only learned about it today.”

“It’s okay, you didn’t know”, you assure him and squeeze his dainty waist, “gosh Bunny, I’ll miss you so much. Like damn.”

“I know. Me too, Mommy”, he whines and hugs you tightly, “we gotta call each night.”

“Of course we gotta”, you say, making him giggle and lift his head so he could look at you again.

He caresses the sides of your neck, scrunching his nose cutely.

“You’re so pretty, Mommy."

“Mhm, Bunny you’re so cute. Come closer and let Mommy have her kisses.”

Jungkook leans in gladly, kissing you deeply and with his hips squirming on your lap unapologetically. You and he only act this way in front of your girls. No one else in your lives, not even family, knows this side of you. There would simply be too many awkward follow up questions and quite frankly, it was more comfortable to keep this part of your relationship private. But not in front of your girls. They know you for who you truly are. Jungkook was shy about it at first, because he never experienced sharing his kinks with people before. But once he realised that he won’t find judgment with your friends – and he visited enough kink events with you and your friends to know they are just as kinky as you – he began opening up more and more. These days, he is not ashamed of acting like Mommy’s best Bunny in front of them and he is most definitely not ashamed to show how much he likes your kisses. Everyone should know that he is Mommy’s happy Bunny when he gets your kisses.

You break the kiss because you didn’t want it to deepen too much. Jungkook will get horny again and you can’t be with him for at least a few more hours.

He smiles at you, licking his lips afterwards. You retort the smile, squeezing his hips.

“That was nice”, he says.

“Yeah, it was so nice.”

“I think I’ll go to my room then. I bet you girls have so much to talk about”, he says, looking at the others.

“It’s okay. We don’t mind the distraction”, Byulyi assures him.

“We saw the size you can take these days. That’s impressive”, Wheein adds.

Jungkook’s face is beet red in an instant. He gawks at you with big eyes.

“You showed them?”

“Of course I did. I gotta show off with my Bunny.”

Jungkook blushes even harder, hiding his face in his own hands as cute giggles leave him.

“Mommy, you’re so mean. Don’t show off with that”, he whines, making you and your girls chuckle fondly.

“Mhm no. I’ll keep showing off with my Bunny.”

“God”, he falls against you, hugging you tightly as he giggles, “this is so embarrassing. You’re so mean, Mommy.”

“Sorry Bunny. You know that I’m proud of you, yeah?” you say, patting his butt gently.

“Yeah, I guess. Hmpf so mean”, he says and straightens up. You give him a little smooch on his cheek and then it is already time for Jungkook to get up from your lap.

He looks at the snacks.

“Mhm snackies. Don’t mind me stealing some”, he says and grabs a handful of salted pretzels. He snacks on them as he leaves the living room, chewing happily, “will you girls stay the night?”

“Yup, we wanna watch a movie later.”

“Uuh movie. Which one?”

“Hereditary.”

“Isn’t that the movie with the car scene?”

“Yeah.”

Jungkook cringes, “well good luck to you girls. ___ showed me the scene and I’m still traumatized”, he says, making your little group laugh.

“Thanks Kook.”

“I’ll be in the gym if you need me. I gotta work off the calories I ate. Mhm those are good pretzels. Damn”, he says and officially disappears out of sight.

You release a dreamy sigh.

“He’s so perfect, you guys. I’m so lucky”, you gush.

“Wah she’s so in love”, Hyejin teases lovingly, making you chuckle.

“I am. It’s getting stronger each day”, you say proudly, sighing adoringly.

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wardenparker · 4 months

Text

New Year's Surprise

Jack Daniels x plus size female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 18.7k Warnings: Cursing, alcohol, internalized fatphobia, self esteem issues, pining, meddlesome friends, unwanted attention from a male coworker, light spanking, praise, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, Jack likes being scratched up, reader is described as having fingernails long enough to scratch (no specific length given), the love is requited they're just idiots. Summary: Ginger has a plan to get you and Jack to admit you have feelings for each other. She did not anticipate just how well it would work... Notes: Happy almost New Year everyone! Enjoy a little more winter seasonal smut and fluff from us to you 🥂🍾✨

"You're sure it's not too much, Ging?" Turning in front of the full-length mirror in Ginger's apartment, you inspect the glittering black cocktail dress that your friend helped you pick out at the mall during all those after-Christmas sales she promised you that you would find something at. She was right, like she always is, but now that the dress is on you, you're wondering if you haven't made a mistake. If it's not too revealing, or too short, or too tight.

Whoever in HR came up with this insane Cowboys and Flappers theme for the company New Year's Eve party deserved to have their head examined. You're not the femme fatale agent that gets sent out to seduce men and collect their secrets. Few men out there in the world are ever really seduced by the chubby girl in any given scenario, but it did tend to make you invisible. Invisible women can slip in and out of buildings in literally any kind of uniform and get through security without ever being harassed, and that works to your advantage on almost every case. Unfortunately, it also means that for the five years you've been a Statesman agent, you've also been fairly invisible to the man you've developed feelings for.

It’s perfect.” No matter how many times Ginger Ale tells you that you are sexy just the way you are, that insecurity gets the best of you. “I’m telling you, you will have every eye in the place.”

“I doubt it.” You sigh in the mirror and smooth your hands over the sequined dress one more time. “But that’s okay. I don’t want every set of eyes…”

“I know what set of eyes you want on you.” Your taste in men is your own, and Ginger won’t fault you for it, but she wonders why Jack. “It might do the man good to know that he’s got competition.” You don’t believe her when she says that it’s more telling that Jack doesn’t hit on you, but it’s the truth.

“He doesn’t, though.” Shrugging, you turn away from the mirror and decide to just go on with the night. Wishing won’t make it real and Jack Daniels barely looks at you. Even though you’ve partnered on cases, spend time together in and out of the office, and are arguably friends in every true sense? You’ve always wanted more with him. The only person who knows is Ginger, though, and you prefer to keep it that way since Jack will never return your affection. “And that’s…it is what it is. Even if you’re the only person I dance with tonight, it’ll still be fun.”

“Wearing that dress?” Ginger snorts as she pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I’ll have the faith for both of us, how about that?” She knows that Jack won’t be able to resist you tonight, not when she’s lined up a few of the junior agents to dance with you already. It’s time that Jack settles down and finds some happiness, and what better time than the New Year?

******

While you easily could have had the party at Statesman considering the size of the grounds, Champ wouldn’t hear of it. He’s hosting the damn thing himself come hell or high water, in his favourite suit with his wife dressed to the 9’s in her flapper dress, and more caterers than you’ve ever seen in your life all making his early twentieth century coal baron’s mansion look as resplendent as the day it was built. The place is palatial, with a ballroom so big that the band he’s hired looks tiny in one corner despite being six-men strong. It’s music and liquor and appetizers passing by on trays when you and Ginger walk through the door, and you gasp at how nice it all looks.

“I know he does it every year,” you sigh to your best friend. “But the theme is always different and I swear somehow the house always looks better on new year’s.”

“Champ does know how to throw one hell of a party.” She agrees, snagging two glasses of champagne from a waiter as she walks by. Her own sleek flapper dress is a vivid purple, making her beautiful skin glow and for tonight, she’s wearing contacts. Her short hair is perfectly styled, a cap like illusion, highlighted with the crystal headband she’s picked. “To a New Year we will never forget.” She hands you one glass and adds, “or regret.”

“You’re certainly optimistic.” You flash her and grin and tap the rim of your glass against hers. “Finally going to talk to Alicia or is this just positive vibes?” It’s been two years since Ginger started crushing on the woman who supervises Statesman campus tours and visitor experience, but she hasn’t made a move yet. Being frozen in place with someone you care about is something the two of you have in common.

“Positive vibes.” She huffs, rolling her eyes and trying to change the subject. “Look! There’s Tequila!” She waves the younger agent over to where you are standing. “You made it! Didn’t think you were ever gonna get back from Brazil, or if you wanted to.” She adds with a grin.

“Those are two very different questions.” Tequila agrees with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. Did he have to come back? Sure. But did he want to leave the comfort and luxury of that beautiful woman’s bed? Not at all. “But I would not have missed dancing with you ladies for the world,” he adds with a wink. He’s very much in on Ginger’s plan, after all, and is looking forward to the fireworks it will bring.

You fluster slightly at his words, but Ginger knows that you don’t have your cap set on Tequila. You just don’t handle compliments well. “You’ll have to get in line.” Ginger warns him with a smirk. “As good as Rye looks tonight, every man in here is going to want a dance. After I dance with her first.”

“Well I reckon I’ll have to be second, then.” Tequila puts in a playful pout. “But only because I would never deny Miss Ginger Ale gettin to be first.” He smiles again and tips his hat, having opted to wear his best Stetson with an elegant Kingsman suit. “You don’t have to,” you insist, knowing Tequila always has more choices of dance and bedroom partners than he could ever feasibly make his way through. “I’m sure you have other people you want to dance with tonight.”

“No one important.” Tequila smirks as he drags his eyes up and down your outfit and whistles slowly. “And no one nearly as pretty.” He promises.

“Liar.” Though you roll your eyes at him, you don’t protest anymore than that. He’s your friend, after all. And if he wants to waste his time dancing with you, you’ll just enjoy it. Tequila’s a fantastic dancer, after all.

“Never lie to you, honey.” Tequila croons, taking your hand and lifting it to his lips. “Lie about what?” The voice comes from your left and all eyes swing that way.

“Jack!” Normally you know he’s coming. The smell of earthy, expensive cologne and the tap-click-shuffle of his boots on polished floors. The soft humming he gets up to when he’s pleased with himself, not quite melodic but endearing because it means he’s happy. But you sensed none of that just now, too caught up in the band playing and the fragrant flowers and the tickle of bubbly in your nose and throat. “Nothing. We were just talking about dancing…” He looks like a dream, and it makes you sick to your stomach and elated all at once. Another night of watching him fawn over every woman but you is what you’ve resigned yourself to putting up with, but it’s just rude of him to look so damn handsome in that black velvet double breasted suit and sleek black Stetson while he does it.

“Dancing, hum?” His eyes narrow slightly at the grip Tequila has on your hand and he wants to reach out and slap it away, but he just shoots everyone an easy grin. “Ready to cut a rug tonight, eh?”

"I guess so." The shyness that threatens to shoot straight through you is knocked off kilter by Ginger, who hoots in response. "She's got her dance card all filled up already, Whiskey. Should've gotten here earlier," she tells him with a smirk.

His mustache ticks, it’s the only change to his facial expression. “I’m sure Rye can squeeze me in.” His dark amber eyes slide over to you and swipe up and down your body. “Can’t you, sugar?”

"Of course." You'd throw over the whole goddamn list for him. Besides, you have no idea what Ginger could possibly mean by saying your 'card' is full. One dance with her and one with Tequila isn't a full anything. "Of course I can."

“Good. Then how about I refresh you ladies’ drinks?” Jack asks, slapping Tequila on the back a little rougher than necessary. “Come help me with that.”

"Sure." Tequila grunts, throwing you a confused expression like he can't figure out why the hell Jack needs help getting champagne when waiters with trays are everywhere, but he shoots Ginger a secret smirk before following Jack into the next room where the open bar is set up.

“Tonight will be perfect.” Ginger predicts with a smug grin as she watches the two men walk towards the open bar. .

“What the hell are you doin’, flirtin’ with Rye?” Jack’s easy grin falls away and his brows knit together as soon as his back is turned to you. “You know that girl ain’t your type.”

"I can't be nice to my friend?" Tequila asks, pretending to be positively aghast that Jack would suggest he's up to anything else. One hand ever goes to his chest with a dramatic gasp.

Jack’s eyes cut towards the other agent, a frown on his face. “It’s one goddamn thing to be nice, it’s another to flirt.”

"When did I flirt?" The younger agent counters, knowing full well that's what he was doing but not about to admit it because he wants to make Jack stew.

“You were flirtin’ the second you can outta your momma, but you gotta learn there’s certain girls you don’t do that shit with.” Jack growls, stopping in front of the bar and holding up two fingers. “Double 62 Triple Barreled.” He orders, wanting one of the rare whiskeys that Champ had broken out tonight. “And two champagnes.”

"Now, why is that, Jack?" Tequila hums, looking down at his friend. Jack isn't too much shorter than him, but just enough to annoy the older agent on occasion. "Why is Rye one of those girls?"

“Because…” that’s where his argument ends, because there’s not really a reason beyond his own feelings. “It’s…unprofessional.” He decides. “She’s an agent for Christ’s sake.”

Tequila snorts at this string of logic, accepting his drink from the pretty bartender with a wink and sliding a large bill into the tip glass on the bar top before looking back at Jack. "That's a load of horse shit and you know it, Daniels. You fucking know it."

He does know it, but he snatches his own drink up and rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” He hates that his stomach twists and he wonders if you had been flirting back. Looking over his shoulder at where you are standing, he clenches his jaw at the tassels that are swaying every time you move. “Don’t get her damn hopes up.” He takes a sip of his whiskey. “We both know you ain’t gonna fuck her.”

"Nor does she want me to." This is gonna be a hell of a lot easier than he and Ginger thought, if Jack is always so fuckin wound up over you and he only just arrived for the night. "I ain't the one she has her eye on and everybody with eyes knows it."

Jack ignores that, huffing to himself as he tries to hid the fucking jealousy that curls in his gut at whoever you do have your eye on. Lucky son of a bitch. “No fuckin’ talkin’ to you, hardheaded S.O.B.” The champagne glasses are in front of him and he downs the rest of the drink to slap the crystal glass down and snatch up the flutes. Turning around without another word and stalking across the room towards you and Ginger.

It's only one room he has to cross, but by the time he gets there, Agent Brandy has sidled up beside you and Ginger and has his fingers ever so subtly on your elbow while bends his head and puts all his focus directly on you.

Halfway across the room, Jack jerks to a halt and growls, shaking his head as he resumes the walk and forces a moderately friendly smile on his face. “Didn’t think you’d be back from Korea, Don.” He interrupts as he arrives back at your group.

"Two days ago." Brandy flashes a smile in Jack's general direction but keeps his focus on you. "Glad I made it back in time, too. Champ throws a hell of a party."

His eye twitches but Jack nods. “Yeah he does. Shoulda brought that little gal you were seein’. Brandy. Brenda right? Or was it Bambi?” He shrugs. “Maybe all of them at once, knowin’ you.”

"Now don't be unkind, Jack." Brandy's eyes cut over to the older agent and Brandy offers what could be considered a modestly dramatic pout. "Or Rye might think the worst of me and throw me over for that dance I just got promised."

Jack seethes beneath the smile on his face. “Would hate for that to happen.” He lies, handing Ginger one of the glasses and then offers the other to you.

The glass is offered with a smile and you thank Jack, savoring even the tiniest moment of contact between brushing fingers as he hands it over. It's probably bordering on pathetic, how long you've carried this torch for Jack, and it seems like Ginger is really trying to encourage you tonight to come out of your shell tonight but you just don't know. As nice as everyone is being, it doesn't feel right. The only thing that feels right is when you're around Jack. It's just a damn shame that he doesn't feel the same.

It’s almost painful how the simple, innocent touch affects him. Now visceral his reaction is. Only the training that Statesman has given him keeps him from showing anything. “Well,” he hates to tear himself away, but he can’t be around you for too long. “I better go talk to Champ about some cases he wants worked tomorrow.” He offers.

"It's a party," you remind him, smile flickering as he steps back. Obviously the small touch that you'll be savoring for the rest of the night has had the opposite effect on him. But there's no need to show that. Not when it's fully expected that he doesn't want to be around you when there are plenty of other people to talk to and women to dance with. "Don't work too hard, okay?"

“Never do,” he nods at everyone and turns around and skedaddles over to Champ like his pants are on fire.

"Come on," Ginger loops her arm through yours and lends Brandy a smirk that you don't notice — you're too busy trying not to look after Jack. "Let's go dance, honey. The night is young and we are looking far too good not to show off."

Champ eyes Jack as he stops by his side. “Figured you’d have a gal in your arms by now.” He huffs as he reaches out to shake Jack’s hand. “Losing your touch?” Jack snorts. “When have I ever lost my touch?” He asks, pointedly refusing to look back over towards you. “Just surveying my prospects.”

"And how is Agent Rye this evening?" Champ doesn't even have to look to know that that's where Jack has just come from. He blew into the room so quickly that it's the only explanation for the fire in his heels.

“Don’t you start with me.” Jack groans, shaking Champ’s hand and huffing. “Far as I know, she’s dandy.”

"Why should I not start?" Champ knows damn well why not, but he enjoys riling up his friend. "Somebody beat me to the punch?"

“Every-goddamn-body here tonight is actin’ like they’ve never seen the woman in a dress.” He snorts, complaining about it even though he has already memorized the way the damned sequined dress clings to your curves and enhances them in ways that should be criminal. “It’s damned ridiculous and borderline workplace harassment.”

Smirking, Champ pours two glasses of his preferred Statesman 1972 Select, savoring the smoked cherry notes from that particular year. He hands one cut crystal glass over to Jack with his tongue set firmly in his cheek. "You know you'd be a hell of a lot less mad if you just asked the lady to dance your damn self."

The glare Jack cuts Champ is withering and he turns his head as he takes a sip, refusing to rebuff the remark. It seems like everyone is taking the piss with him tonight as Eggsy would say. (edited)

"She's allowed to have fun, ya know." Champ goes on, humming the thought as though the glare Jack just shot him wouldn't have struck a lesser man dead in his tracks. "Damn shame she hasn't set her cap on anyone. Big family dreams, that gal has. Always has. It'll be a damn shame when she finally decides to hang up her pistols and have a family, but I won't let her get farther than the training ring. Too good of an agent to just let her retire."

“Is there a point to your ramblings?” Jack grumbles. “Or are you just spouting shit tonight?”

"Do what I want in my own house." The older man chuckles heartily and claps Jack on one shoulder. "Got a couple of jobs to start the new year with. Come see me tomorrow and we'll figure out which one's yours."

He’s being dismissed and since Champ is also giving him hell, Jack quickly nods and walks off. Trying to walk around the ostentatious ballroom without looking at you. “Hello handsome.” A perfectly manicured hand drapes itself over his shoulder and the scent of gardenias and sandalwood fills his nostrils. “Tiffany.”

Like a bloodhound on a trail, you spot it from across the ballroom without even trying to. Twirling around with Ginger, your eyes catch sight of the gorgeous, skinny, leggy blonde who has let herself drape over Jack's side and you sigh. Deflate is probably the right word, but you remind yourself it was never going to happen anyway and just hold on to Ginger as the song comes to an end.

“What’s a tall, dark, handsome drink of water like you doin’ all by your lonesome?” She purrs, making him hide the wince he had at the put on accent of hers. She’s as southern as tofu and yet she tries to make it sound like she’s grown up around here. Still, she’s a distraction and the best part about it is that there’s no emotional strings. “Looks like I should be buyin’ you a drink, darlin’.”

"I wish you would," she puts on a too-high giggle and bats eyelashes heavy with mascara and augmented with false hairs. Laying it on thick, she pushes in even closer and lets her body fit against his with nothing left to the imagination.

Jack doesn’t feel anything but he paints a cocky smirk on his face as he turns to her. “Then let me go get something for you, what do you want, darlin’?”

“Champagne, of course,” she simpers, never once considering the fact that she’s at a party for a whiskey distillery. Hell, she hadn’t even dressed for the theme.

Tiffany hangs out at the bar Statesman regularly hangs out at. A groupie because she knows everyone there makes good money. He’d bet his bottom dollar she conned Scotch into bringing her.

“Some party.” Is her attempt at conversation, putting more effort into showing off her cleavage than completing sentences. “You distillery boys sure know how to treat your gals.”

“Of course we do.” Jack’s smile is wicked, but it’s a part of the persona he adopts when he is working a target, it’s not real. “Any gal of mine deserves to be treated right.”

“Is that an invitation?” She knows who Jack is. Knows the civilian job title he’s been at Statesman Distillery. Even if she knew what it was all a front for, she likely wouldn’t care. She might just try harder if she knew the real wealth being flung around between a lot of these people.

“Now sweetheart, I’m good for a night or two.” Jack drawls. “But I’ve got a lot of leavin’ left to do.” He hums, quoting the country song.

The pout on Tiffany’s face is both dramatic and pronounced, but seeing that he’s immovable in that point — and knowing his reputation — she makes a small sound of frustrated disgust before flouncing away. Apparently annoyed at having wasted her time on a line cowboy.

The huff that Jack lets out is one of pure relief. Happy that he won’t have to deal with her again for at least half the night. She might make her way back around depending on successful she is. It’s shameful to say, but most of the agents here have dallied with her, including Jack. However, he had only taken her home to satisfy a physical need. He slowly makes his way back to the bar to order another drink, not champagne.

His line of sight is unfortunate as he saunters back toward the open bar. Looking back out to the dance floor, he can see Tequila twirling you around and the two of you laughing as the younger man holds you close and mock-sings along with the band.

Jack’s frown is deep, furrowing his brow as he cuts his eyes away in a jealous huff.

It goes round and round like that for most of the night. One dance partner after the next sweeps you across the dance floor but never the partner you want. One beautiful woman after another sidles up to Jack and bats their eyelashes but none are the woman he actually wants at his side. It’s a three-ring-circus. A whirlwind. But you never seem to get close enough to each other to see that neither of you is actually having any fun.

It’s easy to have an arm around a woman, easy to smile and flirt. His eyes continuously find you on the dance floor. Ginger had been right apparently, you had a damn dance card that was slap full. He hisses under his breath, wondering how many of those men knew you bit your thumb when you were working out a problem or that your eyes changed to a lighter shade when you were feeling slightly bashful.

There isn’t a single night of your life where you’ve gotten this much attention from this many different men — or this many different people period — and while it’s fun in a whirlwind sort of way, you do find yourself clock-watching. Wondering why your fellow agents all seem to be paying you so many compliments tonight and why you sort of feel like Cinderella at the ball without a hint of the real Prince Charming, the closer it gets to midnight the more you’re thinking of just going home. The last thing you want is to glance across the ballroom at midnight and see Jack tangled up in a midnight kiss with some petite redhead or statuesque model with perfect curls. You’ll be happier skipping out early and being in your pjs with a book at midnight than you will be witnessing that.

It’s fucking infuriating to have so many people come between him and you. Every dang time he untangles himself to break in on your dance with some partner, Ginger, Tequila or Champ waylay him. He’s never had such a hard time getting to chat with you and it’s making him slowly unravel his temper. “Ah Jack, there you are.” He sighs and paints on a smile when Champ claps his back and shoves a drink in his hand. “Forgot to mention somethin’….” His eyes slide away from you laughing as you are spun around, bitter to be stonewalled again.

“Well if it ain’t the gol’dern Belle of the Ball.” The voice you hear behind you is the one person you were hoping to avoid tonight, and as you’ve just finished dancing with one of the guys from the technology department who you didn’t even think knew your name, there’s no escaping. Agent Vodka is one of those older men who doesn’t realize that James Bond is just a character and that no one drags that persona into their everyday life. He routinely ‘flirts’ with you like he’s bestowing you a huge goddamn favor for even looking in your direction, and you were genuinely hoping to avoid him tonight.

Vodka is handsome in a classical sense, some would say a silver fox, if he had a better attitude. As it stands, there’s a confused tilt to his Stetson adorned head and he rakes his eyes up and down your body in a very calculated gaze. “You musta cleaned up for hours. Getting ready for a good night.”

“Sure. I guess so.” You nod, tone polite but dismissive. Vodka has a tendency to interpret friendly as begging for hands to be put on you, and the last thing you want to do is encourage him. “Happy new year, Vodka.”

“Seems like Whiskey and I have been the only ones not with you tonight.” He intones, smirking slightly. “Guess you was savin’ the best for last, huh? Since Jack’s hangin’ all over the ladies, I’ll step in and claim this dance.” He doesn’t ask for permission, just stepping up to you and grabbing your waist.

“That’s really okay.” Reeling backward, Vodka is strong but your self-defense training is a hell of a lot better, and you twist in his grip to make sure he can’t get a solid hold on you no matter how hard he tries. “Appreciate the offer,” you huff, trying to push him away. “But I was just heading home.”

“Oh don’t be that way.” Vodka huffs and manages to pull you close. “Believe me, dancin’ ‘s just a prelude to what we can do later.”

“Which is exactly why I don’t want to dance with you.” You push back against him again, leveraging your elbow against his side to loosen his grip with a sharp shot to his liver. This has gone too far and is hovering on ruining the night — which has been fairly fun despite its lack of your favorite cowboy and coworker.

“Jack-“ Ginger doesn’t bother apologizing as she taps his shoulder and points out to the dance floor. “Why don’t you go save Rye?” She huffs.

At this point it’s obvious that it’s a struggle. People are giving you extra space on the dance floor as they realize what’s happening but for whatever godforsaken reason, no one has stepped in yet. Probably because they’re too shocked that Vodka has finally crossed the line into being physically inappropriate instead of just saying uncomfortable things.

“Sugar, I’m sorry I’m late for our dance.” Jack slaps his hand down on Vodka’s shoulder and digs his fingers into the fleshy muscle. Getting satisfaction from the immediate change in the man’s stance. “Don’t mind if I interrupt, do ya?” His tone is friendly, but there’s a warning woven in the words. Dark eyes turn towards you as you quickly step back from the other man’s grasp.

“Wouldn’t have thought you’d keep a dame waitin’.” Vodka mumbles, all sheepishness and apology now that he realizes he’s infringed on another man’s territory.

Jack doesn’t rip into the man like he wants to, everyone else is starting to relax and resume the party. “You probably need to lay off the liquor.” He tells the other agent, not really caring for the man either.

“You forget who we work for, Daniels?” Vodka huffs, giving Jack the stink eye. “Not like you go easy, either.”

“Last time I checked, I took no for an answer, Robbins.” Jack turns his back after letting Vodka go and sweeps you into his arms, effectively dismissing him.

The room damn near erupts into applause, chattering all around you erupting out of uncomfortable silence, but you don’t hear it. You don’t even see Tonic and Champ escorting Vodka out of the ballroom with the utmost immediacy so the dressing-down can be vocal and private. All you see is Jack, and all you hear is Jack. Even as quiet as he is, the huff he gives as he scoops you up and twirls you away speaks volumes. “Jack, you—you didn’t have to—” Of course, if he hadn’t, you’re not sure you could’ve gotten away so cleanly. “Thank you.”

“Don’t think a thing of it, sugar.” Although he has a few harsh words rolling around for everyone who didn’t step in. It’s like they were waiting for something. Alcohol’s done made their brains addled. “Although my own apologies for manhandling you to get you outta that sticky situation.” Even though he’s apologizing, he starts to lead you in a dance.

“I really don’t mind.” And that is the understatement of the goddamn year, as you instinctively melt against Jack the second he starts to move.

“Still…..” There’s finally a bit of happiness to the evening and he smirks down at you. “Now you can say your dance card has been filled.”

“Could’ve left Vodka off it completely,” you grumble lightly, but you still end up smiling. When Jack looks at you in almost any way you just light up from the inside. It’s instinctual.

“Don’t know what got into him.” Jack huffs, even though he’s saved you from encounters like that before.

“His namesake, most likely.” He had smelled like it, at least. A fact which added no charm whatsoever to your encounter. “Really, Jack. Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Jack nods. “Sugar, you know that I know you are a capable agent. You coulda mopped the floor with him, but I’ll always give you whatever help you need.”

“I prefer not to bring hand-to-hand combat to Champ’s front door if I can help it.” If you let yourself really chew on the fancy, you could imagine Jack as rescuing you like a knight in armor. Like you were his to protect. “Not sure how much he’d appreciate that, regardless of how capable I am.”

“I think you’d find Champ more forgivin’ than you think.” He snorts, reminding himself of his own major fuck up just a few years prior. Champ had forgiven him and allowed him to regain the trust and confidence that he had destroyed through his own bling grief and rage.

“Maybe.” Jack certainly knows your boss better than you do even after several years with the agency, so you’ll differ from him. “But I’m glad to not have to find out. And…” The rest of the thought gets swallowed, and you cut your eyes away from him in embarrassment. There are some things better left unsaid and normally you’re so good at keeping your mouth shut.

“And?” Jack frowns slightly, not liking that you are holding back with him. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

“It’s nothing,” you promise him, shaking your head and acting like it isn’t the biggest, most honest confession in the world from you that sets your cheeks on fire and makes you even more bashful around him. “I’m just…glad I got to dance with you. That’s all.”

“You didn’t think you were going to dance out the old year without ole Jack now, did ya?” He sounds pouty that you would even think that.

"Honestly?" Shrugging slightly even with one of his hands splayed across your back and the other holding yours tenderly against his chest, you wonder how ever you ever manage to keep a damn thing to yourself with him around when your mind just sort of seems to melt in his presence. "I was going to split and ring in the new year in my bed with the book I've been reading."

Jack frowns and shakes his head, not agreeing with your plans in the slightest. “Now that seems like a waste.” He draws. “Mighty fine night to spend readin’ a book. You should be doin’ other things.”

"Not a lot of other options to pick from," you mumble, trying to force your mind away from immediately conjuring the mental images and repeated daydreams of doing just about everything under the sun with — and to — him.

Jack wants to protest that, but the song starts to close out and you almost stop in your tracks. Obviously believing that he will end the dance now that Vodka is gone and the set is done. Instead of dropping your hands, he pulls you tighter against him. “Is that why you wore a dress like that, sugar? ‘Cause you didn’t have any options?”

"Ginger picked it out." Wrongly assuming it to be an indictment of the choice, you frown reflexively and wonder why he's still holding on to you. The trouble is over and the song is done. Shouldn't he be finding someone better to spend his time with? "I know it's...it's not right. Flapper dresses are designed for women who look the opposite of me. But she insisted on sticking to the theme."

“Opposite of you?” He makes a face of utter confusion. “What are you talkin’ ‘bout? Dress looks good, fits you.” Maybe you have a shit ton of pins in the dress? His sweet wife would always have to pin her dresses to get them to fit right. Nearly every night they went out, he was helping her pin it just so.

Skinny is what you meant, but instead of saying so you just chew your lip and shake your head. Voicing that out loud would really just cement the ruination of the night and you don't want to do that. "Never mind," you insist instead. "I'm glad you like it." Even if he's just saying it to be nice, which you're sure he is, it's still nice to hear.

There’s something bugging him about the way you continuously quit talking and get around what you mean. The next song starts to play and Jack moves to that slightly faster tempo. “No one’s breakin’ in yet, sugar. So I’m keepin’ you unless you need a break?”

"No." Not from him. You would never, ever ask for a break from him. "No, I'm good." In fact, you've been so distracted by the rescue that you haven't noticed midnight creeping ever-closer. "I don't want a break."

Jack smiles, not the cocky smirk he adopts or the charming playboy facade that he uses on women like Tiffany. This is a genuine smile, one that makes his dimple show with a flash of white teeth and the crow’s feet around his eyes appear. “Then let’s dance, sugar.”

Champ chuckles when he sidles up beside Ginger with a fresh glass of champagne for each of them and his wife on his other arm, all ready to lead the midnight countdown after this song is over. "Took all damn night," he laughs to his co-conspirator. "And ya had to pull out the big gun with Vodka. But look at 'em."

“Man huffed and puffed at being used.” Ginger rolls her eyes and curls her lip. “But I promised him the Antarctic assignment. It will seem like punishment to everyone else and apparently he’s romancing one of the scientists down there.” Personally, she doesn’t see why anyone would be romanced by Vodka, but to each their own.

"It's for a damn good cause." Champ stifles a guffaw and even his wife looks amused at the way everything went down. "Everybody deserves to be happy, don't they? Even Vodka." It earns another snort from the older man and he aims a smirk at Ginger. "So what's the plan from here, Ging?"

“If Jack will get off his ass, there should be a kiss at midnight.” Ginger grins. “And maybe, just maybe, the dumbass will realize that it’s okay to want her. She wants him too.”

"Of course she does." Everybody knows that. Everybody with eyes and sense in their head, anyway. "He's just been stuck in the whole of his own grief for far too damn long. It's about time he broke free. Which is exactly why I went along with this plan of yours."

“I’m glad you did. Jack’s felt so guilty about actually developing feelings for Rye that he’s convinced himself that it’s wrong to flirt with her.” She takes a sip of her champagne. “When he breaks, it’ll be entertaining.”

"Entertaining for all of us." Grinning, Champ holds his glass out to his partner in crime in salute. "I sure as hell hope it happens right here for all of us to see."

Unaware that he’s being plotted against, Jack continues to hold you in his arms, taking you around the dance floor and trying to keep from asking too many questions that would potentially ruin his easy relationship with you. “Have you had fun? Other than Vodka? Your feet have to be killin’ you, all the dances you’ve been movin’ to.”

“It’s alright, I’ll have a hot bath and soak them. Aside from the one little interruption, everything’s been so nice.” This is the best part, without a doubt. Attention from other people is a novelty, the compliments and laughter a kind change of pace. But any time spent with Jack will always out do any other experience.

“A nice hot soak and a drink is always good to unwind.” Jack hums. “If other activities aren’t available.” The comment is warm, almost suggestive as he twists you around and then pulls you close again, feeling your softness against him and enjoying it.

It’s the worst kind of gut punch, hearing a comment like that from Jack, and your eyes are downcast when you curl back into his arms. It’s too unkind to be deliberate, but at the same time it’s such a careless comment that you just want to scream. He would never be intentionally cruel to you but the flirtatious tone of the comment is too much. “Maybe I should’ve gone with Vodka, then.”

Jack stiffens, frowning immediately and his blood pressure rises in anger. “What the fuck?” He hisses, the moment making him grip you tighter, almost the point of hurting you. “Why- you?” He’s at a loss for words right now.

“Well it’s the only offer I’ve gotten in…a year? Maybe more?” You shrug dismissively but his grip on you doesn’t allow for it, making your tone turn even more bitter in the process. He doesn’t get to get mad about who offers when he has no interest in himself. “Definitely more than a year, now that I think about it.”

“That wasn’t a goddamn offer.” He snorts. “It was a cowboy playin’ grab ass when his partner wasn’t willing.” He reminds you, dark eyes flashing angrily. “Otherwise known as assault.”

“And yet it’s still the only time any man has looked at me twice in more than a calendar year,” you hit back, practically hissing under your breath as embarrassed tears sting at your eyes. “Nobody’s exactly lining up to spend time with the fat girl except tonight which is Ginger’s doing. I know it is.” (edited)

The two of you are hissing back and forth, so preoccupied with your emotions that neither one of you are aware of the fact that the countdown for midnight has begun. The crowd around you starts to chant down from ten but Jack's too busy growling at you in anger. "Why are you so fuckin' quick to insult every goddamn person who decided to dance with you?"

“Because I know I’m right.” The two of you have never once torn into each other like this and while it breaks you’re heart, you’re so angry that lashing out is happening by instinct. It hurts so much more to be doubted by him and you can’t even express why. It’s devastating. “Do you even know what assignments they give me, Jack?” You hiss back, not hearing the shouts around you. “The ones where they need someone to be invisible! If they need someone plain and ignorable, they come straight to me. Do you know how much that fucking hurts? Because I’m good at it and that’s even worse than them just assuming. I’m excellent at not being noticed. At not being desired. It’s my fucking superpower. So no, I don’t think for a second that any of these dances were genuine moments of interest or offers for literally anything else. Because why would they be?”

His heart breaks and he's simultaneously enraged that you view yourself that way. "Five! Four! Thr—" He reaches up and grabs the back of your neck to yank you forward so your nose is less than an inch from his own. "You want a goddamn offer?" He snarls, losing all sense of reason when it comes to you and ready to prove how wrong you are. "Here's your fuckin' offer." Without another word, he drags you forward to plaster his lips against yours in an angry kiss.

It should feel terrible. It should make you so angry you slap him. It should make you feel a hell of a lot of nasty things, but instead what you feel is the undeniable melting of your own self against him, finally getting the only thing you’ve wanted since the day this infuriating cowboy sauntered into your life. Jack is firm under your hands, burning hot and intoxicatingly inviting in the way he does not pull away. You must have gotten so mad you blacked out, because this is impossible.

When you don’t push him away, when you don’t slap him, Jack growls. Using the soft sigh that you give to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth with another groan as the cheers and sing of Auld Lang Syne happens all around the two of you.

Either you’ve burst a blood vessel from being so angry and ashamed or this is the best dream you’ve ever had. Jack wraps both of his arms tight around you and you cling to him, fists dig into the arm of his suit jacket and the hair on the nape of his neck as you silently beg this hallucination never to end. You can live and die in this moment and tell yourself that it was more than a dream. You can imagine this is exactly how fiercely Jack kisses when he really wants to. When he wants someone.

The kiss has turned from an angry mashing of his lips against yours to a passionate mingling of your breath and tongues. You whimper and his entire body tighten with need. Overriding the portion of his brain that is screaming that this is a bad idea, that he is bad for you and continuing to kiss you as everyone else has moved into dancing now.

Neither one of you has realized that his hat has been knocked off, or that he’s drawn you so close your back has bowed, or even that you’ve entirely given up on needing to breathe in order to never have to stop kissing him. Years of repressed desire and soul-crushingly unrequited love are just being poured into every second you spend drowning in this impossible fantasy.

“Well damn.” Champ chuckles from his position on the dance floor with his lovely wife. “Didn’t expect that long of a show. Boy don’t stop soon, he’s gonna devour her right there in the middle of the floor.”

“That’s what happens when you repress your feelings for six goddamn years,” Ginger snorts in amusement. “Should I go interrupt them?”

“No.” Champ decides with a shake of his silvery head. “Leave ‘em. Don’t want the boy to get spooked before he makes up his mind what’s gonna happen next.”

“And he will.” Ginger agrees with that completely. Jack spooks faster than a newborn foal.

“He would, where she’s concerned. Boy has his heart in it and he’s been fightin’ it.” Champ agrees as his wife chuckles. “He will figure it out.” She promises. “Rye won’t let him walk away from this with a smile and a handshake.”

“I think she’d rather die than let him go, at this rate.” The smile on Ginger’s face is soft. Glad that her friend is finally getting everything she — you — have ever wanted. It really is only oxygen that makes the two of you pull apart, panting for breath with fingers curled into each other’s flesh and clothes like you’re hanging on for dear life.

Jack’s eyes are dark and searching as he looks at you. Looking for the answer to a question and when he finds what he’s looking for, he grabs your hand and starts to drag you off the dance floor.

“Jack?” The realization that that really just happened ignites a small panic in your chest and a riot in your mind, and the fact that Jack hasn’t let go of you or run off in disgust is only confusing you more.

He doesn’t speak, he can’t speak right now. The people on the floor just seem to part, moving out of his way as he guides you off the floor. He does squeeze your hand though.

“Jack?” The longer he goes without saying anything the higher the panic rises, but you cling to his hand all the way to the front door of Champ’s house where the front room has been transformed into a coat closet.

Jack doesn’t answer and spins you around to press you up against the wall, kissing you again. “Get your fuckin’ coat.” He demands roughly.

It’s a much briefer kiss but it leaves you breathless all the same, and the determination in his eyes makes you shiver and rush to obey. If this is what you’re going to get with him — just a few demanding kisses before he decides it was a mistake and turns you away? Then you’ll take it.

His hat is missing, Jack realizes when he goes to readjust it and frowns. Patting his head and looking around to see if it fell off around here, but it’s nowhere in sight. It’s a small price to pay, but he runs his hand through his hair as you rush back to his side. “We’re leaving.”

He doesn’t seem angry, but for the life of you there is no version of tonight that goes any further. Not in your mind. A conversation about how you shouldn’t have kissed him — or at least kissed him back, since you have a dim memory of his hand pulling you to him right before your mind went blank — or at least about how it was a mistake is bound to follow.

The second your hand is in his again, Jack is dragging you through the doors and down the stairs of the house to his Bronco. He’s parked close, thank god and he can barely get the door open before he’s grabbing your waist and practically throwing you up into the seat.

It shouldn't be a thrill to be lifted up and tossed around as though you weigh next to nothing, but there is something in Jack's singular determination and focus that tells you not to question or fight it. If he wants to manhandle you a little before whatever uncomfortable confrontation is bound to happen? Well, it's not as though you haven't literally fantasized about that scenario. At least now you have a frame of reference.

He’s holding onto his control, barely. Racing around the front of the vehicle and jumping in beside you. He can’t even talk to you as he starts the engine. Thankful that his place isn’t too far away as he throws the Bronco into gear and slings gravel as he spins out.

The most surprising part might be that he reaches for your hand as he drives. His fingers curl through yours and hold onto you on top of the gear shift, not letting you do your usual thing of shifting away or curling in on yourself in uncertainty.

There’s only two miles left to go. He grunts as he slows down to make the turn and your hand moves the shifter with him, making sure that he doesn’t squeeze it too hard as he goes through the gears.

He's driving to his own house. You've done this route yourself more times than you can count for a thousand different reasons. The apartment that you rent with your ample Statesman salary is well on the other side of Louisville and Ginger lives closer to you than to Jack, so it's not like you have any doubt where he's headed. When he pulls the Bronco down his long and winding driveway toward the large farmhouse he's called home for a decade already, your hand tightens slightly in his, nervous and wondering what will come next.

When he cuts the engine, there’s a half a second before he opens the door. Almost speaking but he doesn’t. Instead, he’s climbing out to walk around the truck to open the door.

"I wish you would say something." Even if he's helping you out of the car and holding onto your hand, you can't figure out what's going on in his head. Not having any clue is making you a little panicky the longer it goes on.

Jack stops, two steps away from the path to the front door. “Do you want to come inside?” There’s a fear that you don’t want this. That you are not on the same page as he is.

He's not angry. Or upset anymore, that you can tell. But the determination in his gaze is still there for something that you can't quite put your finger on. "Yes," you decide, nodding as you step toward both him and the house. "I do." Whatever happens, you're hopeful it won't be bad.

You said yes. Your words spur him on again and he’s off like a shot, dragging you behind him. The biometric lock is a godsend. There’s no fumbling for a key at the door as he hustles you inside and slams it behind you both, pressing you against it as he attempts to devour your mouth once more.

This was not the reaction you expected. Not in any way. Not even when he had kissed you twice at Champ’s house before hauling you over to his place with the fires of hell scorching his toes. Anybody else might have read the signals, but not you. Not with the surprised squeal you let out or the soft moan that follows it — both completely outside of your control.

You’re alone now and this time, Jack doesn’t keep his hands on your waist. Both hands grab firm handfuls of your delightful round ass and squeezes as he presses into you. His painfully hard cock grinding into the soft pouches of your hips.

Because of the complete blanket of disbelief you're living under, it takes you longer than you're proud of or will ever admit to realize what is pressing against your hip. It's the first throbbing twitch from under his perfectly tailored suit that has your eyes flying open and both of your hands pressing firmly on his shoulders, breaking the kiss as you gasp in surprise.

“What- I thought-“ Jack’s frown is one of utter confusion as he drops his hands and steps back from you. Hating the feeling of rejection and suddenly wondering if he’s made a fucking fool of himself by getting twisted in knots by a woman who doesn’t actually want him. “‘m sorry.”

"Why?" The incredulous question is out of your mouth before you can stop it, and the confusion marring both of your faces makes you suck in a deep breath. "I—I just—I'm surprised," you admit, as damned foolish as that makes you sound. Fucking shocked is what you are, but you don't want to be labor the point and ruin whatever is happening.

He feels foolish and embarrassed, like he’s been caught with his hand in a candy jar. Reaching up and running his hand through his hair, he blows out a breath. “You said you wanted to come in.” He reasons. “I- what did you think would happen?”

"I—I don't know," you admit, feeling even more ridiculous than he does. Your back is still against his front door, crying out loud. "I ruled out you still being mad at me after you kissed me again but I didn't think..." Gesturing at him lamely, you blow out a breath and rub at the back of your neck. "I'm not saying I want to stop, I was just surprised." If this is the only chance you're going to get with him? You're going to take it and run with it as long as it lasts.

He frowns again, wondering how you could want him and yet be surprised when he wants to take you to bed. “So what do you want, sugar? Because I’m feeling like a penny at the bottom of a pan, rattled.”

The expression cracks the tension, at least for you, and an unexpectedly bright and beaming smile graces your lips as you reach for him boldly and find to your own delight and continued surprise that he doesn't draw away. "What I want is...a long shot." It's more than that, but you're downplaying your own fears to a rather extreme degree right now. Trying to be brave. "But...what are the odds you were thinkin' about taking me upstairs?"

“House odds.” Jack rasps out, knowing that the odds are always in the house’s favor when playing at a casino. “Pondered the idea of strippin’ you down right here and making you squeal against the door, but then tossin’ you over my shoulder and haulin’ you to my large, luxurious bed also has its merits.”

You genuinely have to shut your eyes to steady yourself, exhaling long and deep and praying you aren't actually moaning out loud like you are in your head. As it stands, both images he paints have your knees weak and your body shivering. "Eith—um—either one," you manage to stammer out, eyelashes parting so hesitantly that they flutter like wings. "Either one is good."

“Sexy as you look, sugar….” Now that he knows that you are on the same page as him, a little bit of the cocky swagger is back. “Thinkin’ it’d be a goddamn shame not to spread you out.” Despite your stature, Jack tucks his shoulder and scoops you up over his shoulder like you weigh nothing, bolting for the stairs.

"Holy hell, Jack!" A nervous shout and a squeak escape you when he picks you up, and you cling to his jacket as he carries you through the house you've visited innumerable times before.

Chuckling, Jack slaps your ass with his free hand as he ambles up the stairs easily. “Don’t be nervous, sugar, I won’t drop you.”

This time you definitely do moan out loud, too taken by surprise to stop the sound or swallow it before it can come out of your mouth and you know Jack heard.

He grins to himself, slapping your ass again and is rewarded with another moan. “Mmmmhm.” He chuckles. “Rye likes a little bit of light spanking. Noted.”

"Pretty sure I'll like anything you do," you admit ruefully, though you're quickly feeling the constraints of embarrassment fall away as he reaches his bedroom door. This is real. This is really happening.

"I'll keep that in mind when I hogtie you to the bed and lick whipped cream off your body." He teases, kicking open the slightly ajar door and striding into the room to toss you down on the bed like a character in a romance novel. Right now, he doesn't know if he's supposed to be the hero or the villain, feeling a bit like both as his rough handling of you as him immediately reaching for your ankles to pull off your shoes in his eagerness to see you naked in his bed.

“See?” You huff at him, heavy breathing coming from nothing but an undeniable surplus of desire. “That actually sounds sexy coming from you.” Everything does, but his quick fingers are divesting you of your shoes and that reminds you how your Spanx is part of this undressing process — which is the single least sexy thing in the world.

Jack rips off his tuxedo jacket and tosses it down on the floor. Climbing up onto the bed and over you to press against you fully, pinning you down to the bed with a groan. Quickly capturing your lips again in a frenzied kiss.

It makes no damn sense to you, but you’re not going to question it anymore. If Jack could have literally anyone in the world but for tonight he chooses you, then you’re just going to make sure he doesn’t regret it. That decision on your part sort of pulls you out of your nervous shock, and all at once your hands are pulling open his tie and fumbling with the buttons on his shirt with enthusiasm.

“There we go.” Jack groans when you stop acting shocked and start acting. Your hands on his body makes him shake and he can’t help but rock his hips forward. “Sugar.”

He could probably call you whatever he wanted and you would just go with it, but hearing him call you Sugar — that sickly sweet name he favors so much yet seems to bestow on you so rarely? It feels like you might melt so deeply into his plush mattress that you will never get up again.

Moving from your lips takes sheer willpower but he wants to explore more of you. One hand bracing on the bed and the other sliding up to squeeze your breast as he kisses down your chin and to the soft, vulnerable skin of your throat. “Driving me crazy, baby girl.” He coos, voice rough and lusty. “So goddamn pretty.”

No one who has ever met Jack would be surprised to learn how mouthy the cowboy is in bed. He’s mouthy in every other aspect of his life so frankly it would be pretty strange if this was the exception. Still, to hear those words said to you is beyond your wildest dreams. It’s surreal in the most sensational of ways. Even when you had dreamed of being with Jack, you had never dreamed of him praising you.

He groans when your fingernails bite into the skin on his chest as you hastily push the shirt opened. “Tigress, huh?” He growls, squeezing your tit again, a little harder this time and his hard cock pulses against your inner thigh. “Don’t worry, sugar. I’m just as goddamn eager as you. But ‘ole Jack likes a bit of wildness.” He bites down on your shoulder as he chuckles. “We’ll have ourselves one hell of a rodeo tonight.”

If you even knew where half this boldness came from, you might be a little embarrassed. But given the fact that you never thought this would happen, it mostly just feels like you're telling yourself not to waste the chance. Lightning never strikes the same place twice and this is your lightning strike, so you're going to lean into the whole thing if that's what he really wants. Your nails strike a path down his chest but get caught in his undershirt, a fact which makes you huff in frustration and search blindly for the hem to tear off that layer of clothing as well.

Jack groans and finally decides to give you what you want. Pulling back long enough to finish pulling his arms out of the shirt sleeves, he tears the undershirt off and throws it off the side of the bed to reveal his chest. Unable to resist pulling your dress down to pop your breast out and diving back down to wrap his mouth around a nipple.

"Oh fuck." It's a move you weren't expecting, but your back arches off the mattress instinctively to push your chest up and invite him to take and take and take — just as much as he wants to. If you were coherent enough to suggest it you would try to start wiggling out of your dress but as it is the only thing you can focus on is the heat of him surrounding you and the way every place he kisses you seems to catch on fire immediately at the press of his lips.

He suckles, bites and then licks the hard nub in his mouth like he’s gorging himself on you. Because he is. Hands searching for the zipper to your gorgeous dress. It’s beautiful, but it needs to be beautiful on his floor.

"If you want it off, you have to let me sit up," you manage to huff out, barely able to do more than pant at the way he's clearly trying to devour your tits first.

Groaning in protest, his lips are twisting in a pout as he pulls away. Panting breathlessly as he itches to launch himself at you again. “Hurry up, sugar.”

Your hands are shaking when you reach for the zipper, pulling it down and carefully undoing the clasp at the top before letting the heavily sequined cocktail dress slip off of your arms so you can maneuver it over your head. Half-naked in Jack's bed with panties so soaked you could probably wring them out is not how you expected to end this night, but here you are.

“Fuck.” Jack frowns at the tight shapewear he’s met with. “My present’s a little too wrapped for my liking, baby girl.” He hisses, curling his fingers under the layer to start stripping it off of you. “Want you naked.”

"It was the only way that dress was gonna look halfway decent," you mumble, shifting under him and definitely avoiding looking him in the face while he peels the Spanx off of you. It's a little bit too intimate even for the man you've wanted to be intimate with for years — to the point of making you feel completely naked even when you still have your bra and panties on.

He scoffs, nearly ready to whip his knife out and start slicing the material. “Bullshit.” He huffs, happy there’s just the bra and he uses two fingers to flick the four hooks open. “You don’t need nothin’.” Instead of explaining, he’s diving back into your tits while one hand dips into your panties.

“Fuck, Jack!” Instead of a tight reaction of shock, this time he’s rewarded with a moan and your legs falling open for him as the fingers of one hand dig through his thick hair to scratch along the base of his scalp. If he wants you to be bold, you’ll be bold. You’ll be whatever Jack wants as long as you just get to be in his bed for one night.

Jack moans against your tits, incredibly turned on by the pure moxy he’s always loved in you. Despite your utterly untrue view on yourself, you are sassy, sweet and sexy. That’s why he’s unable to resist now that he’s tasted you. Once he’s teased one breast enough, he switches to the other. “Gonna eat you up, sugar. Devour you whole.”

"All yours." It's sort of unintentional, the vow-like nature of the thing, but you're just being honest. You've really been Jack's since the day you met him. Even if it's taken so many damn years to get the two of you into this situation together, it's still the truth. "Whatever you want, handsome."

He groans, fingers sliding through the sweet slick that is covering your folds. “Want you.” He mumbles as he starts to slide his finger deeper, pressing against your entrance.

It's not even in your mind to ask why when he's splitting you open on two thick fingers like that, and you swear if that's how this night is starting you might actually ascend directly to some higher plain if you get to actual sex. "Ha—fuck— you have me."

“Mmmmmm.” He licks your nipple “Not yet.” He pouts, pulling his fingers back out of you to plunge them in again. “But I will, sugar. Cum for me and then I’ll have you like I’ve been dreamin’.”

The curse you groan out is nearly incoherent, more of an agreement than anything else but you'll be damned if you let this moment be anything less than memorable for both of you. Jack hovers over you and you wind your arms around him to encourage him to continue sucking on your tits while his fingers piston in and out of your pussy with determination. You know it won't take too much longer before your legs start to shake, and as if Jack knows it just as intuitively, he curls his fingers inside you and you gasp out a moan of his name.

His teeth nip at your sensitive flesh as he hisses. Feeling how tight your pussy squeezes his fingers and imagines his cock inside you. Tight and fucking scorching hot, just like he had imagined with his hand wrapped around his cock in the shower. “That’s it, pretty girl.” He coos before he sucks on your nipple again. Moaning when you arch up, writhing under him and making the prettiest, most desperate sounds he’s heard in a long time.

No one who has ever been in this bed has ever left it with any remaining doubts about Jack’s skills as a lover, and while you knew that before? Now you understand it oh-so-very deeply. His fingers pump into you mercilessly, curling at just the right angle to make you cry out in pleasure in every pass, and yet somehow he’s managed to keep the angle of that curl perfect while still holding them apart — stretching your eager pussy open and making sure you’re ready to take every inch of him. All of those intricacies combine with the dedication attention he is lavishing on your tits, and when the tense coil of restraint in your belly snaps it explodes into a thousand white-hot stars behind your eyes as you cum for him.

You’re gorgeous when you fall apart, just like he knew you would be. Keeping his fingers moving, he watches, enthralled with you as you cry out his name in a pitch that has his cock throbbing. The hot gush of your pleasure makes his fingers squelch inside you and he groans out your name while he starts to slow down the rhythm of his hand, letting you float down from your orgasm, drawing it out for you.

“Holy hell…” When your eyes open again you’re completely boneless beneath him, giggling softly at the light-as-air feeling in your body that never ever feels lighter than anything.

Dragging his wet fingers out of your cunt is his own personal kind of hell, but the urge to taste you is too great. Watching you with dark eyes as he slips his two fingers into his mouth with a lusty groan.

“Take your pants off.” The way you groan it is nearly an order but you definitely meant it to be begging, though at this point you don’t care. Especially when he arches an eyebrow at you and smirks. “Take your fucking pants off, Jack.”

Chuckling, he shuffles off the bed to oblige you. “Never let it be said I don’t follow orders, sugar.” He winks as he kicks off the tuxedo pants and hooks his fingers into his boxer briefs. “These too?”

“The fact that you even wear underwear is a shock,” you tease, motioning for him to continue stripping and trying — but probably not succeeding — to not stare.

He smirks. “Had to contain the beast for once.” He winks as he drags the tight material down. “Don’t wear ‘em normally.”

The Beast is probably as good a name as any, and you have to swallow a groan when he frees his throbbing cock — already damp with precum. It’s a wonder he can contain it, and you’re caught in between wanting to bend forward and taste him or just lying back for him to have his way with you. Curiosity and a curtain of lust win out on the short struggle, and you lean forward to take the purple head of his cock in your mouth just after he climbs back onto the bed.

“Fuck!” Jack moans out loudly and pushes your head away gently after a moment. “Baby, baby…” he pants. “You keep that up and this rodeo will be over before it starts.”

“Sorry…” Embarrassment burns your cheeks, and you shift back to get under his blankets. “I just had to know…”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Jack huffs. Kneeling on the bed and pulling the covers away as you hide your body away from his eyes. “Just don’t want to embarrass myself by blowing my load because of your pretty mouth before I can hear you scream my name.”

“I already have,” you remind him, a softness in your tone belied by the heat in both of your eyes. “Guess I might have to be a little louder this time.”

“Only if it’s right in my ear.” Jack wraps his hand around his cock and strokes it as he reaches for your thigh. “Buried deep inside that little cunt and feeling like I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

It goes without saying that you’re both clean. All Statesman agents are required to have clean bills of health in order to be on the roster for missions and you’re both active agents. “I—have an IUD.” Is what you tell him instead, shivering a little at the reality of what is about to happen.

Eyes lighting up in delight, Jack’s lips curl up. “Oh sugar, it’s not my birthday yet, why are you showerin’ me with presents?” He coos, sliding his hand up and down your ample thigh. “Pretty as a damn picture.”

The real answer is that you’re desperate to feel him, but you just smirk instead, not wanting to get your heart more involved than it already is. “Because I don’t have a condom and I’ll be damned if we stop now because of it.”

“If you want me to get one…” Jack motions back to his pants. “I have one in my wallet.”

“I don’t want the barrier,” you admit, biting your lip at the extremely vulnerable nature of that confession. “If it’s okay with you.”

His smirk turns into a wicked grin. “You read my mind, sugar. I want to feel all of you.”

You could make a joke about how much of you there is to feel, but just this once you stifle the urge. Opting instead to reach out and gently cup Jack's cheeks in both of your hands before pressing a soft, earnest kiss to his lips. "Then what are you waiting for, Cowboy?”

As you lean back, Jack follows you. Climbing up your body and groaning as he settles between your thighs. “You want to cum again, pretty girl?”

"Not without you this time." The reality of Jack is better than anything you thought so far. Since this miracle is surely once in a lifetime, you want it to be as amazing as possible.

Jack groans your name, pressing his lips to yours in another hot, wet kiss. Passionate and consuming as he pushes an arm underneath you. “I’m right here with you.”

As impossible as it seems, he really is. He is right there with you, taking you in his arms and making you feel delicate and desirable for the first real time in your entire adult life.

He doesn’t rush, although he wants to. Every kiss is slow and thorough. Reaching down between you to take hold of himself to notch at your entrance. “Hold on, sugar. See if we can ride for longer than eight seconds.”

“I’m not gonna buck you, Jack.” You can promise him that, because you know damn well you’re going to hold onto this moment for dear life and not question the gift that it is. This one little shining moment is just for the two of you and you’re never going to forget a single second of it.

His eyes are watching, burning into yours as he starts to slowly rock his hips forward. Breaking you open with the first inch of his cock and swooping in to kiss you again when you gasp.

The world slows down, motions stretching into time and blending together in ways that you can’t quite wrap your head around so all you know in this moment is Jack. Every time he thrusts forward again your moans get that much deeper, until on the final experimental rock of his hips, he is seated fully inside you and you feel so spellbound and grateful for the moment that you’re all but sure you could cry. Instead you pour yourself into kissing him, rocking your own hips slightly to take him more comfortably and adjust to the weighty feeling of having him inside you.

“Fuck, baby girl.” Jack inhales sharply, stealing your breath as he tries to rein himself in, throbbing violently inside you. If it weren’t for the fact that he had promised you a rodeo, he would be cumming, overwhelmed by how hot and tight you are. You’re perfect, just like he always imagined. “You be a good girl and take my cock, m’kay?”

Good girl is another one of those sticking points for you just like getting your ass slapped, and if Jack had no idea before, he certainly does now, from the way your cunt just spasmed around his length and you moaned like you were coming all over again.

“Ohhhhhh.” Jack’s eyes nearly cross and he gives a particularly sharp thrust when you clamp down around him. “You like that.” He pants out. “You’re my good girl?”

“S’not fair,” you huff, throwing him a playful pout that gets cut by another shaky moan. “You’re finding all the buttons I like pushed way too easily.”

“You haven’t - fuck - figured out my buttons yet, sugar?” Jack ducks his head down and slides the arm not underneath you down your hip and thigh to pull it up higher. Sinking deeper into you with a moan of your name.

“Liking to have your cock sucked doesn’t—fuck!— count,” you tell him, back arching as he hits a new angle inside you.

He chuckles and licks at your pulse before he nips at your skin with his teeth. Fingers digging into your pillowy flesh and groans when you clench around him again.

Finding a rhythm is as easy as breathing. Being with him is so much more natural and intuitive than you dreamt it would be. Your natural tendency to be a little rougher is equaled by his enthusiasm for making the bedroom a loud and raucous experience. There’s no hiding from each other or demurring, not once you get going. It’s like something inside you has finally been unlocked after a lifetime of waiting — waiting for Jack to come along with the key that would open you up.

If it surprises Jack that you are wild in bed, it’s probably the best goddamn surprise he’s ever gotten. His back burns from the raking of your nails when he hits deep. He fucking loves it. Your wildness makes him go absolutely feral over you.

It’s the opposite of who you are in everyday life. A version of you just for him. A version of you that leaves your worries outside the circle of your bodies and embraces sex as something carefree. Which, if you’re honest, isn’t really how you’ve felt about sex with anyone besides Jack. (edited)

His lips and teeth map every inch that he can reach as he pumps in and out of you frantically. Trying to keep the pace hard and fast because every time your cunt clenches, his hips stutter from how fucking tight you are. “Fuck, my good girl.” He growls. “So fucking tight.”

“So fucking big,” you give back, starting to pant heavier and more unevenly. There’s a whine forming in the back of your throat that you can’t hold back and you bite down on the juncture of Jack’s shoulder as your legs threaten to shake all over again. You’re so close to cumming but you don’t want this to end.

Jack changes the tempo, slowing down and grinding his pelvis against your clit. “You gonna cum for me, baby girl?” He rasps out. “Cum on Jack’s big ‘ole cock and soak me?”

"So—oh, fuck—close, baby." The way you feel right now, you might actually fall apart at the seams when you cum again, but it will be worth it. It will be worth just knowing first hand how gorgeous Jack looks when he follows you over the edge. "Don't stop. Don't fucking stop, Jack."

“Never.” Jack growls, smashing his teeth together and hissing at the way you claw and writhe under him. It’s like taming a feral cat in a pillowcase and he loves it. Your thighs are crushing his hips and all he can do is imagine them around his head. “Cum for me.”

A half dozen thrusts later, your cunt is clenching down on his cock and pulsing with a fierce orgasm that has your thighs tensing at his waist and your back bowing off the bed. Everything seems to be happening at the top of however it possibly could, and that includes the way you cry his name into the night before collapsing back into his sheets with your arms and legs still around him, willing him to follow you to bliss.

Jack moans your name, pants it again against your lips. His brow knitted in concentration as he tries to last. His body tightening and tensing as his pleasure builds to that almost painful precipice. His heart pounding, but not because of the physical exertion, but because of the almost loving look on your eyes. “Love you.” He moans, right as his lips crash against yours and he breathes it into your mouth again. “Love you.”

You freeze under him, but Jack is too caught in his bliss to tell. Like a bucket of water has been splashed over the bubble of this night and popped that shell keeping you separate from the world. Did he just...? There's no way. There's just absolutely no way at all. You must have imagined it. Wished for it so desperately that you hallucinated the words. Because otherwise you're not quite sure what you'll do — because Jack has never lied to you. But he's also never given you any reason to think your feelings might be requited.

Caught up in his orgasm, Jack rides wave after wave of complete bliss as he empties himself into you, metaphorically and physically. Giving you every bit of himself as he finally acknowledges the truth of why he has always kept you at arms length. His love for you terrifying him, but right now, he’s flying. Collapsing into your arms and panting out your name as he catches his breath.

There's nothing you can do with this shock except bury it, holding him and gently stroking his hair while he catches his breath with his head on your chest. You imagined it, you remind yourself silently, blinking back tears at how much you wish it was true.

The whiskey, the emotions and the exertion have Jack cuddly and sleepy as he comes down from his orgasm. “Fuck, baby girl.” He hums, kissing your neck as he slowly pulls out of you and shifts to your side to roll you over with him. “Wore me out.” He chuckles. “But gave a hell of a ride.”

He tucks you into his arms to be his little spoon, not letting you get away for even a second. Any other time? This would have been thrilling. "Get some sleep, baby." Returning the pet name seems innocent enough, and you reach back to run your fingers through his hair gently. "You earned it."

His eyes are closed when he shoots you a sleepy grin. “Talk when we wake up, sugar.” He promises, fingers stroking your skin softly.

That promise might be why you sleep so fitfully in the night to follow. Why you're so wound up that when your Statesman issued phone chirps from your purse on his floor around 6:30 in the morning, your eyes open immediately. Jack has turned over in the night, sleeping on his back now with one arm still around you but not so tightly that you can't extract yourself to answer the message. That phone is used only for missions and confidential communication, meaning you absolutely cannot ignore it. Incoming Message: Agent Rye report immediately for mission briefing. CODE BLACK. Code Black. You curse under your breath, careful not to wake Jack, and rub one hand down your face in dismay. That level of secrecy in a mission assignment means you can't even wake him up to say goodbye. You're supposed to speak to no one, just proceed immediately to the nearest Statesman branch for your mission briefing. With a sigh and another, more colorful curse, you shake your head and glance back at the bed where Jack is sleeping soundly. There's nothing to do but get dressed and Walk of Shame your ass into the office. You just wish you could wake him up to say goodbye.

It’s been years since Jack has slept so well. Deep and dreamless, none of the nightmares that often plague his rest. The soft scent of you surrounding him and soothing him like nothing he’s had in a long time. When his eyes open, he’s feeling like he’s had the best sleep of his life. Frowning when he doesn’t feel you next to him. Calling out your name softly in case you were in the bathroom. “Rye? Sugar?”

There's no trace of you anywhere. He may as well have come home alone last night, except for the scent of you in the air and the scratches on his back. It's almost an insult when he sees a fallen sequin on the rug where your dress had been tossed.

“Fuck.” Jack’s slipped out of plenty of beds, ducked out and kept walking. The walk of shame was never shameful when there was a little bit of pep to his step, but right now, he’s pissed. Pissed you didn’t have the fucking balls to wake him before you slipped off like a thief in the night. Snatching up his pants, he digs into the pocket for his phone, dialing your number and ready to have it out with you.

"Hi! Sorry I can't come to the phone right now. Please leave a message and I'll call you back as soon as I'm able!" Your voicemail message is insultingly chipper when it picks up right away, almost taunting him. Like you aren't willing to talk, when nothing could be farther from the truth.

“Fuck!” Jack shouts, throwing the phone and scowling angrily. Pissed that you aren’t here, that you apparently don’t want to talk to him. “Fine, you regret it? Fuck you too.” He growls and stomps into the bathroom to shower. If you wanted nothing to do with him after he had let down his walls last night, he wants nothing to do with you either.

******

"What's got you all chewed up and spat out today?" Tequila raises an eyebrow at Jack when he comes huffing into the office, a little late and a lot pissed off. He had expected Jack to be in a stellar mood.

“Not a goddamn thing.” Even though his feathers are ruffled, Jack practically refuses to even think about you. To the point where he had thrown the sheets and the costly Tom Ford tuxedo away. “Whadda we got?” Desperate to concentrate on a mission, he jumps straight into business.

"Wingman prep." Tequila tells him, tapping the folder on his own desktop. "Somebody got tapped this morning and Champ wants us to comb some old mission files to prep for an extraction. Plan B sorta shit." And since all of the mission-ready agents on the Statesman payroll are top notch with years of experience under their belts, anyone potentially needing an extraction from a mission is a big fucking deal.

“Who got tapped?” Jack asks, grabbing a file and flipping it open with a frown on his face. “Scotch?”

"I thought you'd know already." Tequila's eyes snap back up to Jack in concern. "It was Rye."

Jack freezes and slowly lifts his eyes from the file to find Tequila frowning at him, confused by how he doesn’t know. “Why would I know that?” Jack asks after a moment. It explains why your phone was off, but you had still slipped out without saying a fucking word.

"Because...you went home with her last night?" Everybody knows that you and Jack left the party. Absolutely everyone. There was a whole extra celebration after you left. "Figured you woulda known by her getting up this morning and all."

There’s a split second where Jack wants to snap that you had left him to wake up alone, but he doesn’t. What comes out of his mouth instead, is to deny the whole thing. “Took her home.” Jack shrugs, lying easily as if he couldn’t care less. “She wanted to soak in a bath and read some book.”

The frown on Tequila's face deepens measurably, pure confusion marring his usually chipper face. "Bullshit," he huffs, leaning back in his desk chair. "I saw you kiss her. No way."

“Believe what you want.” Jack snaps flatly. “Where are we in planning the back up plans?” The hurt is soothed slightly by you being called away, but it doesn’t make it nonexistent. You hadn’t even left a goddamn message for him. He could have seen not waking him if you had left some sign that you didn’t regret the night even happened.

"Early stages." Knowing better than to poke the dragon when he's mad about something, Tequila defers to work like Jack clearly wants. "Tell me what you think, but I think me on the ground and you in the Silver Pony is the best bet." Whatever happened between you and Jack, the man is clearly hurt, and Tequila makes a note to go and talk to Ginger when he gets his next chance. If you had said anything to anyone, it would be to her.

“Whatever.” Jack practically rolls his eyes and shrugs. Usually he loves the opportunity to fly and show off in the Silver Pony, but he’s so worked up over you that he doesn’t even bat an eyelash. “Guess that’s the plan. If needed.”

“If needed.” All Tequila does is nod, but damn he really needs to talk to Ginger.

******

Jack holes up in his office, barely answering the phone and not leaving it all day, not even for lunch. Catching up on paperwork that is normally never done as he works through not being at home. Not remembering how you tasted and sounded last night. He’s even refused to pull up your camera footage, not wanting to see what you are doing. He’s miserable and is determined to stay that way.

“Thought I’d find you in here.” Champ’s gruff voice cuts through the silence long after everyone else has gone home for the night. He knew exactly where Jack would be. Especially after Tequila said the senior agent was out of sorts. “Come up to my office, Jack. We’re gonna have a drink.” It’s not a suggestion or a request. This is a direct order from this commander, and Champ turns around and heads back down the hall knowing Jack will follow.

Jack sighs and sets his pen down, ripping the reading glasses off his face and tossing them down on the folder. He had stayed cooped up in his office so he didn’t take his bad mood out on anyone so he doesn’t see why he needs to be called out onto the carpet. Still, he pushes back from his desk and follows the older man to the conference room Champ preferred over his official office. The bar cart in here was better stocked.

“Pick your poison.” Champ tells him, motioning for Jack to sit down at the conference table as he strolls over to the cart to grab a bottle and two glasses.

“Whatever your havin’.” Jack wonders what this is about, but he doesn’t ask. Just waits patiently for his boss to get to the reason in his own sweet time.

Champ grunts slightly, grabbing a bottle of ‘74 Reserve, and brings it to the table. He pours two fingers in each glass and slides one over to set in front of Jack before sitting down beside him and taking a sip from his own glass. “You’ve been hidin’ today,” he assesses after a moment of silence. “But I hear you damn near took Tequila’s head off this morning when you got in.”

“Can’t have a bad day?” Jack asks, picking up the whiskey and staring at it before taking a sip. “Woke up wrong, that’s all. I’ll apologize to the crybaby later.”

“He’s not a damn crybaby,” Champ huffs, covering his own amusement with a scowl. “I walked by your damn office, fool. And when he did come talk to me about it, it was because he was worried about you.”

“Jesus Christ.” Jack scowls and shakes his head. “I had a bad morning. I’m fine. Not gonna go off and try to kill all the drug users again.”

“Not saying you would.” Holding up his hands in a show of innocence, Champ leans back all the way and stares down his nose at Jack for a second longer before he shakes his head and shrugs. “But between you and me just these walls? Just thought you might wanna know that Rye got sent off Code Black, is all.” He isn’t supposed to say. Black is black. It’s too priority and top security. But you’d been so torn up this morning and Jack’s been so out of sorts in his own way that Champ has rightfully assumed that something fairly big must’ve happened after you left the party.

His jaw nearly drops. Champ never gives information away like that. He frowns, looking back down at his glass again and feeling relieved. If you had gotten a Code Black, you couldn’t wake him up. It would have been against protocol. He swallows and finally nods. “Good to know.”

“Just don’t want you stewing over it.” The older man says, watching carefully as he sips from his glass again. “You wanna be upset with anyone, it’s me. Not her.”

“Right.” Jack drains the rest of the whiskey and the crystal hits the table slightly harder than normal. “Anything else?”

“Nah. That’s it.” There’s nothing more that Champ can really say, and now Jack needs to process. That’s just how these things work. “See ya in the morning, Daniels.”

Jack stands. “‘Night, Champ.” He walks out of the room and back down the hall towards his office, looking down at his feet as he goes.

******

It’s two weeks before Tequila and Jack are given a stand-down order and told their rescue mission won’t be necessary. Mission success, they’re told with authority, even though it took longer than expected. They don’t get more than that, though, and Jack is walking past Ginger’s lab on his way out of the office late that night when he hears your voice again for the first time in weeks. It’s tired, and quiet, but unmistakable. “Can we just get this over with, Ging?” You ask your friend quietly, knowing that decontamination and a full physical are extremely necessary considering where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing. But you want to get the hell out of here and finally go talk to Jack.

He would never admit it, but he’s been living at Statesman. Barely going home to change and often refreshing the outfits that he keeps in his office for unexpected late nights. On call the entire time in case you needed him. Now you are here and Jack feels like running away. So much self doubt had built up over two weeks, he’s driven himself crazy over every little thing. Obsessing over the details of New Years.

“Once you have a clean bill of health, you go storm the ranch or whatever it is you’re going to do.” Ginger teases, full of warmth. “But I would try his office first.”

Jack frowns slightly and wonders what the hell Ginger is talking about, storming the ranch. He almost pushes the door open, but he doesn’t. Just wants to see what you will say if you know that he’s not listening.

“It’s been two weeks, Ging.” The pops and hums and beeps of her equipment punctuate your voice from inside the lab. “Every single second I haven’t been thinking about this mission I’ve been reliving that night. And I could kill Champ for sending me away Code fucking Black before I could even tell Jack how I feel about him.”

“I know it was bad timing.” He hears Ginger sigh. “But hopefully it gave you some time to think about what you’re going to say?”

Jack’s stomach twists and he feels nauseous. Wondering if you’ve decided that it was a mistake. He swallows harshly and whirls around, not wanting to hear how you plan on letting him down or friend zoning him.

“I’m going to tell him the truth,” he misses hearing you say. “That I’ve been in love with him for six years, and that I’m done being a coward about it.” This mission so easily could have killed you every single day that it became something of an eye opener. Getting back to Jack had become the most dominant and driving force in your mind at times.

Walking down to his office has Jack twisted in knots. He’s never been a coward before but he damn sure feels like running. Playing back that night in his head over and over had made him realize what he had said. More importantly, what you hadn’t said back. Walking over to his bar cart, he pours himself a heavy double and bolts it down. He’ll get wasted after you crush his hopes but that was needed so he doesn’t beg like a pathetic wretch. He needs to keep his pride somehow.

It’s twenty more minutes before he hears footsteps in the hall and hears your tentative voice calling his name. “Jack?” There’s nerves in it, anxiety hovering around you despite your triumphant mission. But you appear in his doorway looking worried and chewing your lip. “Hey…you’re still here.”

“Work’s never done.” Jack huffs, plastering on a friendly but not too friendly expression. “Haven’t seen you around in a few weeks. Mission go alright?” It’s painful to see you in that doorway, looking tired and beautiful. Reminding him of how you looked before he had fallen asleep and lost you.

“I’m home and in one piece.” It’s what you always say, but at least it’s true. He doesn’t exactly look happy to see you, though, and that makes you falter a little. Not enough to shake your resolve, but your optimism that he’ll respond with joy cracks right away. “Do you…can we talk a little?”

“Sure.” He takes off his reading glasses and stands. Moving over to the alcohol again. “Want a drink?” He asks, not looking over his shoulder at you. He sees the worry on your face and knows you are concerned about your working relationship. What he will do will be accept your wants, wish you well and promise that he will not let what happened affect your professional relationship. Then he will demand a transfer to the New York office, permanently. You nod and he pours out two drinks. “What’s on your mind, Rye?”

“Well…you are.” It seems like such an obvious answer that it almost feels silly saying it, but he won’t even look you in the eye so staring at the beginning seems like a good idea.

“Oh?” Turning around is hard, but he manages to look curious instead of sick to his stomach. “Now why would I be on your mind, sugar?” The endearment slips out and he nearly bites his tongue as he carries them over to the small sofa area.

The message is loud and clear: it really didn’t mean anything to him. Regardless, though, you have to power through. If he really didn’t mean what he said and has no interest in being with you, you’ll request a permanent transfer. Chicago, Dallas, Los Angeles — anywhere but here or New York. Swallowing a sigh, you accept the glass from him but just hold it in your hands while you gather your thoughts. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk before I had to leave,” you start, trying not to let the warmth and proximity of him get under your skin so easily. But you can’t really help it. “I did the best I could for a message to let you know what had happened, but it wasn’t much. And I’m sorry for that, too.”

His facade cracks, the scowl as quick to vanish as it appears and he scoffs. “Message received, Rye. A lone sequin on the floor. Practically like it was a dream, except for that.” He tosses back the whiskey. “Can you just get to the part where you tell me it was a mistake, you don’t want to ruin our friendship or work relationship? Or whatever bullshit excuse you’ve settled on to tell me you regret it?” His eyes are dark and pained when they finally land on you, barely resisting the urge to flee.

“On the floor?” Your brow furrowed instantly, a frown painting itself on your lips, and you set the glass in your hands aside to shift closer to him on the little couch. “Jack, I left a sequin on your nightstand.” The choice was even more horrible than you had worried it would be, apparently, because he looks so hurt he could actually cry. A fact which makes you instantly want to cry as well. “A black sequin was the best I could do for a signal. It—it must have…blown off. Stupid fucking flapper dress with all that fringe. It must have gone flying when I left the room.” There was no other breeze, no window open or fan blowing. Only you could have sabotaged yourself like that.

He doesn’t believe you and shakes his head. “Why would you leave a black-“ he trails off when it hits him. Black sequin - Code Black. Trying to tell him that you had wanted to leave a message but couldn’t. Champ had broken protocol by telling him about the Code Black and apparently you had tried to signal the same thing. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” You shake your head in resignation, blowing out a shuddering breath. “I didn’t want to leave. Especially not after…” Another shaky breath leaves the rest of you shaking in turn, and you shove your hands under your legs on the couch. This is the most terrifying thing you’ve ever asked a person in your entire life. “Did you…mean it? What you said?”

Jack bites his lip, wanting to ask you what you’re talking about but he can’t do that. You look distraught that he had thought you had just disappeared. “Yeah.” Jack admits quietly. “Look, I know that it’s not something you were expectin’ ta hear, and you don’t feel the same.” He rolls on with the emotions that he needs to get out. “I won’t be mad, or take it out on you. But that night….fuck.” He blows out a breath. “I got to touch you. Just like I fuckin’ dreamed of. And I couldn’t just let you think it was a heat of the moment thing for me.”

“Why do you think I don’t feel the same?” With your heart beating wildly and your shakiness only increasing, there’s a sort of explosive quality in your mind and body that you can’t quite figure out how to control. Like all you want to do is launch yourself at him for a kiss but you know you need to talk first. To get it all out in the open. To be honest with each other. “I—I honestly had no idea you thought of me as anything but a friend. I was…well…shocked is a bit of an understatement.”

Jack snorts. “I know my reputation. Hell, I crafted it. But I couldn’t flirt with you. It’s too- shit- you had me from the first time we met. I was fucking hooked and it wouldn’t have been right. You were a junior agent and -“ he shakes his head. “I was running from the kind of commitment you were made for.”

“Your reputation was built by a man who had loved his wife so deeply that he couldn’t bear the thought of loving and losing again,” you remind him quietly. You sure you hadn’t known that right away, but when you had learned about his wife and son, you understood implicitly. “But it…it never stopped me from falling in love with you. Even when I thought I’d never be more to you than an acquaintance. I considered myself damn lucky to eventually become your friend. I just thought…I thought the fact that you never, ever flirted with me…meant that it was unrequited. So I made myself okay with it. Until two weeks ago.”

“I respect you, Rye.” Jack murmurs quietly. “I didn’t want to make it seem like you were everyone else, because you weren’t.” It’s backwards and twisted, but no one ever said that he had defeated all his demons. “When I broke- I gave you everything.”

“More than you know.” A soft huff of a laugh escapes you and you shake your head again, willing your nerves to calm down even a little. “Just…please understand, Jack. That I’ve been in love with you since the second I met you. And the only reason I didn’t say it back the night we slept together is because I was so shocked to hear it from you in the first place. I thought I’d hallucinated what I wanted to hear, and then before I knew it we were asleep…and then I woke up to a Code Black.”

“I was upset.” Jack admits quietly. “Really upset.” He flushes slightly. “May have been thinkin’ some not-so-polite things until Tequila told me it was you who was slated for the mission.” He won’t tell you that Champ had broken the rules. “Convinced myself that you had run off to go save the world so you wouldn’t have to tell me that you’d had too much alcohol and that’s why you let me take you home.”

“Not at all.” Taking a chance, you reach for his hand and practically sigh in relief when he slots his fingers through yours. “I pretty much thought I’d died and gone to heaven, if I’m honest. I just kept thinking…if this only happens once, I never want to forget a single thing.” You squeeze his hand gently, wishing you could have said all this two weeks ago. “I’m sorry my message didn’t work. That’s…you have every right to think nasty things about me. I’m so sorry.”

“No I don’t.” Jack protests. “Not if you meant to be here. Not if you wanted to be here the next morning. Then it’s just a bad misunderstanding and I’m sorry.”

“Then I guess we’re both sorry.” He’ll never know that you cried all the way to the office that morning at having to leave him, you decide right now. It would only make him feel even more guilty and he doesn’t deserve that. “But I’m not sorry about what happened between us.”

“You aren’t?” He tightens his grip on your hand, relaxing slowly as you talk and he understands that this was one giant cluster fuck. He’s used to those, he can handle those. “That’s good, sugar. Because New Years was probably the best night of my life.”

“God, I hope you mean that.” Your shakiness is for more than one reason, although you needed to have this conversation first. Whatever the two of you decide will happen next is a decision made by both of you, not just you alone. “Because…Ginger couldn’t clear me…after my physical. I can’t go back on the list.”

Jack frowns, brows pulling together. “Why can’t Ginger clear you? What’s wrong?” There’s a number of things that can be fixed by Statesman tech and he’s worried that it’s something bad.

Your stomach churns with worry, but there’s nothing to be done about it now. The unmistakable advances of Statesman tech can do things that most doctors absolutely cannot, thanks to Ginger Ale, and you’re not sure whether to thank her or curse her. “It’s not that something’s wrong, technically,” you admit, giving another worried squeeze to his hand. “But we probably ought to have used that condom…”

Jack’s eyes widen and they drop to your stomach, discerning the meaning of your comment. You aren’t a liar and Jack would believe you if you said you didn’t sleep with someone else, but he’s confused. “Sugar- how?” He chokes out. “I got snipped when I joined Statesman.”

“When was the last time you had your sperm count checked?” You had made Ginger do the test three times, but the result was always the same. Your birth control failed and Jack’s second kid is already growing, if very slowly. “The chances of a vasectomy failing are less than one percent, but it can still happen.”

Jack frowns and then rolls his eyes and groans. “The chamber.” He remembers. “When I got shot and then- uh, put back together.” He shakes his head. “Ging said I might need to get it checked but I dadgum forgot.” He bites his lip and tries not to freak out over the fact that you are pregnant after your one and only time together. “What do you want, sugar?” He asks.

“Not more than you’re willing to give freely.” The answer is that you want all of him. Every single bit. Love and a life and a family. But you know that even if Jack does love you, he’s never loved anyone the way he loved his wife. And losing Maria nearly destroyed him, so he may not be willing to take that chance again. “But I…unless you really object…I’m keeping the baby. Even if you don’t want a commitment or anything. I just…you’re right about me. I want a family and if this is my only chance I don’t want to give that up. Especially not if I get even the littlest piece of you with it.”

“You think I would-“ he shakes his head. “No, I would never force you, one way or the other.” He frowns. “I was asking if you wanted to have a baby. And if you think I’m gonna sit back and let you raise it by yourself, you must have hit your dadgum head.”

“I want this baby.” It had only taken about ten seconds after learning it existed to determine that, even if you’re still grappling with the reality of it. “And I want you.” You inch closer to him on the couch. “However you want to be together. That part is up to you.”

“It’s been a long damn time since I’ve thought about being a daddy, sugar.” There’s a slight smirk on his face but he doesn’t make the obvious crude joke. “But I’m pretty traditional when you break it down. I’m not gonna want to be apart from you and our baby.”

He might not have made the joke but you still laugh, having made the sugar daddy connection in your mind easily enough. “I know it’s a lot, Jack. And we didn’t plan it. But…” All you can do is shrug your shoulders slightly, looking up at him with such obvious hope and even more obvious water behind your eyes. “But, I love you.”

“I meant it, baby girl.” He promises you, reaching out to caress your cheek and then cup it. “I love you. I love you so much, sugar.” Licking his lips, his eyes drop down to yours. “Can I kiss you?”

"I wish you would." practically beaming at him, you lean in and let the moment wash over you. Jack's lips against yours. His hands on your skin. His baby - your baby - is already starting to grow.

Jack pulls you close, pressing his lips against yours and groaning softly. “Sugar, you’re gonna have my baby.” He whispers against your lips in awe. “Just the one time, one time between your thighs and you are carrying my baby.”

“One time is all it takes.” You can’t help the broad way you smile, giggling softly against his lips as you steal another kiss.

“I don’t regret it.” He promises. “I don’t regret you.” He smiles as he kisses you again. “We really did shake things up for New Years, didn’t we?”

“Just a little bit.” Another laugh escapes you, and you lean into his side only to be rewarded with Jack’s arms encircling you and holding you close. “I don’t regret any of it. Except maybe not making my message a whole lot clearer.”

“We’ll get better at communicatin’.” Jack promises with a smile. “We’re partners now.”

“Do you want to go get dinner, maybe?” The end of a mission can be crazy even when it’s successful, and you just want to try to relax tonight. Especially with everything changing in your personal life too, apparently. “My treat?”

Jack scoffs and shakes his head. “You ain’t paying, sugar.” He huffs. “Not while you’re with me. If you want dinner, we can go out, or I can take you home and throw some steaks on the grill.”

“I kind of want to celebrate,” you admit, feeling silly about it even though it’s the truth. “If that’s okay?”

“Then we’ll go out and celebrate.” Jack promises before he frowns at something you had said. “Why would you have thought I would never be interested in you?”

“Because…” It feels sillier than the celebration thing now that you know the truth. Silly and even a little pointless, but he asked so you’ll tell him. “Because you flirted with every woman in the world besides me. Which Ginger said is how she knew you were interested in me. But I didn’t believe her.”

“You know you’re wrong, don’t cha?” Jack asks you. “When you said that you get sent on assignments to be invisible? You’re sent on the assignments you are given because you get the job done. Champ knows that if he gives you a task, it will be done.”

“Whatever the reason is, he’ll have to do without me for about a year.” It isn’t worth having a debate over your lack of self esteem with him right now, and you especially don’t want to ruin the mood by crying anything other than happy tears, so you just redirect the conversation altogether. “This baby is my top priority.”

“Our top priority.” He corrects you. He’s nervous, terrified really, but there’s no one he’d rather have a happy accident with than you. “Our New Year’s baby.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Jack Daniels #Agent Whiskey #Jack Daniels x reader #Jack Daniels x you #Jack Daniels x female reader #Jack Daniels x f!reader #Jack Daniels x plus size reader #Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels #Kingsman Golden Circle #new years eve #new years fic #idiots in love #pining #the love is requited they're just dumb

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straykeedz · 6 months

Text

i should be getting ready to go to bed since i have classes early in the morning, and i definitely shouldn’t be thinking about

dad!changbin

who would be utterly in love with his child from the second he finds out you’re expecting a mini version of you and him. he’d cry when you announce him you’re pregnant, handing him a small box containing two positive tests and an ultrasound;

and no, i’m not talking about teary eyes and pouty lips, i’m talking proper sobbing as he envelops you in a heartfelt hug and cries tears of pure happiness and joy because his dream is finally coming true - a family with you;

he would be next to you 25/8, never leaving your side, making sure you’re feeling alright and that everything’s okay with you and the baby. he’d have his hands on your belly all the time, and when he’s not touching it, he’s kissing it, whispering sweet words to the baby growing inside of you, a baby he can’t wait to meet;

he’d talk to the baby all the time, i’m sure of it. telling it about his day, or the new song he’s producing these days - a very special song about a very special someone he hasn’t met yet, but whom he already loves with his whole heart.

he’d keep the very first ultrasound inside his wallet, and when he’s taking a break from rehearsal or recording sessions or dance practices he’d pull it out to look at it, smiling like an idiot;

he’d treat you like a queen. he already does, of course, being the gentleman he is - but if you’re pregnant with a child? you’re not lifting a finger inside the house. he’s doing everything: the cleaning, the cooking, the dusting, everything. and don’t you even think about protesting or trying to do the house chores anyways, are you kidding?;

and he cries so, so much when he hears the heartbeat of your baby for the first time…;

don’t even get me started on him feeling the baby kick for the first time! he’d get so excited and would desperately try to make your baby kick again and again and again and again until - “binnie, sweetie, it’s two am. please leave the baby alone so we can get some rest.” but would definitely try again in the morning;

at first - he wouldn’t want to find out if you’re expecting a boy or a girl, he doesn’t really care. all that matters to him is that the baby is healthy - that the both of you are healthy, that’s the most important thing to him;

but when the doctor accidentally reveals that you’re expecting a girl… here come the waterworks. he would’ve cried either way, let’s be real, but a little girl? a mini version of you?;

he’d start thinking of the perfect name as soon as you find out the sex. hell, he’d start buying toys and plushies and clothes for your baby girl - you’d have to threaten him to block his credit card after he comes home with two huge bags full of stuff for the baby;

and let’s be real he’d definitely bring home a giant dwaekki plushie so that your little girl could fall asleep next to it cuddling it once she’s born;

they’d be the best nine months of his life, for real. but when you’re in labor and about to deliver the baby? that’s when his anxiety and his insecurities would kick in - what if he won’t be a good father? he doesn’t know how to be one after all, so what if he messes up? what if he can’t be enough for the both of you?;

but all of his worries would instantly vanish when his eyes would meet those of his baby girl. she has his eyes, big and playful, staring right into his soul as he feels something he’s never felt before, a love that fills all of his heart and soul, a love that makes him complete;

you’d have to hug him and pat his back and dry his tears for literal hours after your baby girl says her first word - “appa”;

he’d be your baby girl’s best friend and partner in crime, i’m sure of that. you’d come back home and find the living room turned upside down, toys scattered all over the floor and a blanket fort built with the cushions of your couch, but you can’t mad when you notice the loves of your life asleep on the fluffy carpet, both dressed up as princesses, with little crowns and tutus and everything, as a disney cartoon plays in the background?;

and when your little girl suddenly shows interest in playing basketball? changbin would literally run to the store and buy a mini hoop the next day and play with her. and definitely give you the side-eye and pout at you when you’d make a silly comment about how “now this is a hoop that matches your height”, but he’d let it slide, because if there’s someone who can make fun of him it’s you - he knows you don’t mean it anyway;

he’d let his baby girl paint his nails any color she wants, or let her braid and style his hair - more like pull it until tears fall from his eyes, but how could he get mad at her once he notices her satisfied expression once she’s done putting unicorn bobby pins in his hair?;

and he’d try his best to learn how to braid your daughter’s hair, but no matter how effort he puts into it, he’ll never be as good as you. a messy braid is the result of an experiment which involved three broken hair ties (don’t ask) and a youtube tutorial - and for a second there he’s scared she’s going to burst into tears once she sees the final look. instead, she smiles at him, and then hugs him as tight as she can, saying that he’s “the best appa”. and changbin is the one who bursts into tears;

he’s “the best appa” also when he buys your daughter the dinosaur plushie she wanted so bad;

and his heart would break when he’d pick up his baby at kindergarten the one day and sees her cry, teardrops running down her beautiful, puffy cheeks. all because of a little boy who made fun of her for having a dinosaur toy instead of a doll. and changbin would explain to her that “there’s nothing wrong with liking dinosaurs more than dolls”, and would giggle when her daughter would calmly explain that “but i like playing with dolls too, appa”. so, at the next tea party, changbin would be sitting between the t-rex plushie and a barbie;

one day, he’d be helping you carrying the groceries inside when he’d notice a blue box peeking from inside the bag. you’d try to hide it as quickly as possible once you start sorting the groceries out, but you’re not quick enough. “is this what i think it is?” he’d ask. and you’d sigh, handing him the small carton box. a pregnancy test. “is- are you- are we?” his brain would short-circuit. you’d tell him that you don’t know, you aren’t 100% sure, but your period’s late;

and he’d ask you to take it immediately, heart hammering inside his chest. part of him is incredibly thrilled, another part of him is terribly scared. but happiness is the feeling that prevails in his heart;

three minutes later, two lines show up on the white plastic stick, but he doesn’t cry. not yet. what he does, is run to the closest convenience store and buy four more tests. all positive;

only then, he’d cry. so hard that his daughter would come up to him, concerned, pull him by the t-shirt and ask him “what’s wrong, appa? are you sad?” and he’d kneel down before your daughter, drying his own tears as he shakes his head and tells her that “no, appa’s not sad. appa’s happy, because you’re going to be a big sister.”;

crying as well, you’d also kneel down next to them, and changbin would pull the two of you in a tight - but not too tight - hug, then kiss you and your daughter on top of your heads as he repeats that “i love you so much.” over and over and over and over again.

yeah, i think i’ll go outside and touch some grass after this 🥹

-> don’t forget to reblog if you like my works; “it’s good for motivation” my man chris bang once said. ♡

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kirisredriot · 1 month

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After Vil’s Broomquet card was released I saw a lot of theories about what happened to his mom since he’s never met her and doesn’t even know her identity. I’ve had this idea for awhile and I haven’t seen this theory yet (apologies if it has been thrown out there and I just didn’t see it). But what if Vil’s donor conceived.

What if Vil’s dad was struggling to find a long term relationship. Someone who can handle being with one of the most famous actors. Someone who wants him for him and not the money. He wants kids and as the years go by he feels like time is slipping away. He see’s his costars kids when they come to visit their parent on set and the joy on his costars faces when they see them. And he wants his kid to come and visit him on set too.

Finally Vil’s dad was done waiting for the right partner to come around and takes matters into his own hands. He contacts a clinic known for its discretion obviously recommended to him by costars who needed some help conceiving. He’s offered a book of women who donated their eggs and he flips through it looking for the right woman to be the “mother” of his child. He chooses one and then is connected to a surrogate who will carry his child for him. The surrogate signs a NDA and he hands over his genetic donation so Vil is 100% his father’s son. A month later he is contacted by the surrogate letting him know that she’s pregnant. Vil’s dad is over the moon his dream is finally coming true. A few months later he’s informed he’s having a boy.

He goes on as if life is normal for the next nine months, giving nothing away as he secretly prepares for his new arrival. The nursery is decked out and outfitted with only the best. Nannies have already been interviewed and hired at the ready for when he inevitably has to return to work. Then he gets the text he’s been waiting for. His surrogate is in labor. Baby Schoenheit is on his way.

Holding a newborn Vil for the first time was better than all the awards he’d won in his career.

The tabloids went crazy when Eric Venue announced Vil’s birth. Rumors flew when no one could dig up any information about Vil’s mom as his dad remains tight lipped about Vil’s conception. A one night stand, secret girlfriend, a costar who recently gave birth, and dying in childbirth. The reality is no one knows who his mother is other than a now redacted donor number.

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neoraso · 5 months

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bf things with tbz

sfw, gn reader , similar to my subtle skinships but something a little new ♡ hope you enjoy

ｓａｎｇｙｅｏｎ

waking up before you to prepare breakfast and maybe even pack a lunch for your school or work day

drawing bubble baths for you (and if you ask him to join of course he will oblige)

day trips!! always opens the car door for you and makes sure you're buckled up before leaving

buying you gifts especially jewelry and leaving it on your bed while you’re away so you have something sweet to come home to

literally already acts like a husband to you like . once you do get married not much will change,,he worships you

ｊａｃｏｂ

playing his guitar when you can’t sleep

making playlists with songs that remind him of you/your relationship. sometimes he sends them to u and they're called like "for my love"

wants you to be involved with his family and includes you in his calls and facetimes with them

likes driving you to spots and parking just to listen to music and talk with you

very even-keeled and becomes your rock. always there to listen to you talk about your day looking at you with heart eyes the whole time.

ｙｏｕｎｇｈｏｏｎ

always getting you little things when he travels on tour like even if its a little keychain, and writes a little note or card to go with it

regularly talks about your future together like it's obvious you're life partners

literally never argues with you,, even when you disagree he's very sensitive to you and just wants to work things out peacefully with you.

you're his whole world. he adores you, has to let everyone (including you) know as much as possible, reminds you he's a better person because he met you.

will drop everything to make sure you're ok. brings you drinks or food when he can during your day. if you're feeling down he will like - run errands for you, bring you snacks etc

ｈｙｕｎｊａｅ

regularly brings you to his family home bc he knows how much his parents (and darong) love you

sends you pics of the sunset when he’s away at work but thinking about you

frequent hugs with kisses that start from the top of your head until he works his way down to your cheeks

has to be holding your hand,, crossing the street? laces your fingers for safety, sitting down together? grabs your hand and kisses the back of it

likes when you do his hair care and fix it for him the best. closes his eyes and hums when you're putting the product in and massaging his scalp

ｊｕｙｅｏｎ

petting your hair when he’s sat next to you and his arm around you also loves to give you shoulder/neck/head massages to relieve your stress

always keeping an eye out to make sure you’re good in social situations (he may seem aloof but he’s in tune with you!!) ur happiness is his happiness

that being said . sometimes he doesn’t realize when you’re flirting with him he just thinks you’re making conversation T^T but then he catches on and tries to play into it which usually ends up in yall giggling maybe kissing

refuses to let you pay for anything, provides for you happily

so patient with you, always listening attentively with eye contact and appropriate responses <3 an angel

ｋｅｖｉｎ

always trying to make you laugh whether it be twerking, sending you tiktoks he thinks you’ll like

baking and cooking for you ! his lucky taste tester,, literally doesn’t care if you just sit there and watch him but would love if you joined him!!

loves that you have a good relationship with stella lowk gets jealous when she texts you with news before him

brags about you to anyone that will listen "they're so funny and cool and great and smart,, i'm so lucky"

makes up little songs to narrate what you're doing even if it's like. the dishes -_-

ｃｈａｎｈｅｅ

couple fashion yes yes ! obsessed with taking ootd pics with you

expect his whole camera roll to be you and his favorites are all the ones of you together

always attentive to you whether it be getting something off your clothes, getting you water, reminding you to rest and offering his shoulder when he notices you're tired, moving your necklace clasp to the back, etc

lowkey gets nervous around you like NOT THAT HE'S NOT COMFORTABLE but if you give him too much eye contact he starts blushing and laughing

always leaning on you, head on your shoulder, hanging on you holding your hand/arm. JUST loves u sm and wants to be close to you it's sweet.

ｃｈａｎｇｍｉｎ

wants to “do your hair” and ends up knotting it up (he’ll brush it out though)

gives you really weird hypothetical situations bc he knows you'll actually put thought into your answers <3

he's a silly guy but he likes his chill time and loves it more when you're with him. sometimes he'll bring you home and you take ghana on walks together,, or he just wants to watch a movie with your feet propped across his lap yktv

whenever you're out together at a cafe or restaurant he always lets you taste his order before him and lets you have as much as you want if you like it

will bite you. you'll just be laying together and he bites whatever part is closest NOT even hard enough to leave marks like juyeon but just enough where he can express his ,,,, cute aggression

ｈａｋｎｙｅｏｎ

shares his love through food with you

has a specific time slot for you in his week set aside for just spending time together whether he's taking you out or spending a night with snacks and a movie :>

loves when he can get you up early to watch the sunrise together (always brings coffee/tea and a pastry for you)

your biggest cheerleader. literally texts you with a message every morning encouraging you for the day

comes home singing loudly to announce his presence. you're the first thing he looks for when he walks through the door and has to give you an ENGULFING hug and at least 3 kisses on your face to prove how much he missed you

ｓｕｎｗｏｏ

saying you’re “too far” when there’s more than 5cm between you

if he's sitting across from you he holds your hand(s) INSIDE his sleeves

low-hanging fruit but he absolutely has a folder FULL of songs about you

loves nights where he's just laying in between your legs or when he's holding you,, either way just wants you close, doting on you all night

pretends to be too cool for being your sweet angel baby sugarplum fairy but when you pull away from showering him in affection he goes "why did you stop -_-"

ｅｒｉｃ

has a picture of you as his lockscreen and his wallpaper, in his wallet, on his mirror, a framed one on his dresser, etc. etc.

if you're watching a movie and an attractive person comes on, he covers your eyes with his hands and says you should only be looking at him bc he thinks he's sooooo funny

always buys you a mango juice or whatever drink you like when he gets his from the convenience store

wants to include you in everything he does as much as possible whether it be going out with his friends, all his days off, his early morning walks

needs his face as close to yours as possible; kissing your cheeks/eyelids/nose biting your ear, etc etc

do not repost or rework/copy any of my posts here or on other sites

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sweetiecutie · 7 months

Note

AHHHH I NEED MORE KEEGAN IN MY LIFE PLEASE could you write some Keegan h/c?

Pairing: Keegan P Russ x fem! Reader

Warnings: just general stuff, language, bad driving, NSFW under the cut, mdni, spit kink

A/n: it’s not a lot, but it’s better than nothing😌 Keegan is such a bad bitch, he deserves more attention

• Starting off - I’m pretty sure that Keegan would want a civil partner; someone not related to military and actually as far as possible from all the war stuff. First of all, it’s to avoid having constant fear of losing you on the battlefield - it’s a highly dangerous job, sometimes coming out alive is not only a matter of skills, but also pure luck. Secondly, the amount of trauma and emotional damage Keegan carries is more than enough for two people - he needs someone grounded and, well, more stable, someone who will be able to give him a piece of blissful domestic life, faraway from all the constant war Keegan lives in.

• Always referring to you as his girl in conversations with other people or when introducing you to someone new. “That’s Y/n - my girl” “That’s for my girl, she likes pink” “My girl doesn’t like the smell of smoke so I’m trying to quit”. It’s also a way of showing everyone that you’re his - letting others know from the very beginning that you’re taken and no one better try anything with his precious girl, otherwise a few bones will be broken.

• Gives off annoying older brother vibes. He’ll always playfully nag you, and it’ll only become worse once you start dating. Placing stuff on the highest shelves just to watch you struggle to get it yourself, drawing some silly doodles on your notes, messing with your makeup that you spent nearly an hour organising neatly, punching your favourite plushie just to get a rise out of you. And of course, constant bickering! “Keegan, can you pass me that book?” - “Fuck no” *passes the book*. “Keegan, I want some sushi” - “Well shit, what am I supposed to do about that?” *already placing an order online on his phone*

• Another amazing driver here. Keegan has horrible road rage, hitting the car horn aggressively, yelling most intricate insults out the window at whoever that happened to piss him off. I also have a feeling the he drives really fast and reckless, teasing you whenever you ask him to go slower - so you better always buckle up. And yes, he definitely got in a few minor accidents - scratching or leaving indents on other car’s bumper.

NSFW here~*•.

• And while we’re speaking of driving - just imagine giving him a sloppy noisy head while being stuck in a long traffic. Keegan is seething with hot anger, rolling his eyes on other drivers, lack of nicotine adding to his distress. And here’s a sweet lovely you trying your best to make Keegan feel at least a tad bit better, soothing his booming annoyance with your silky tongue swirling around throbbing shaft, cheeks hollowing to provide stronger suction, allowing Keegan to set the pace. And it seemed to work wonders on him - his nape against the headrest of driver’s seat, pretty blue eyes half lidded, staring at the car ceiling, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard, feeling your throat wrapped around his cock.

• Oh, how nasty he is. Biggest spit kink ever - ordering to open your mouth nice and wide just to spit a thick globe of saliva in it, then closing your jaw and making sure that you swallow it. Will gladly let you spit in his mouth as well; loooves messy wet kisses - either during make out session or after you gave him head, slurping up your spit mixed with his cum from your lips and chin. Very often uses his spit as lube, or telling you to spit in his palm before spreading it all over his needy leaking cock, plunging it deep inside your warmth.

• A horndog. You never have to ask him if he’s in a right mood because yes, he is. He is always in the mood to fuck. Now, he always lets you know that it’s totally fine if you say no - Keegan will never pressure or guilt trap you into any kind of intimacy, no means no. You can always cuddle up together or do something fun like cooking, dancing or simply dorking around. But if your sexdrive happens to match his - oh boy, I’m sorry for your neighbours. Let’s just say - there’s hardly any surface in your flat that you didn’t fuck on.

• It’s nothing new, but this mug is cocky. Like, I don’t think he has unimaginably big dick - not small for sure, but not huge as well; but the way he works with it - a chef’s kiss. Keegan just knows how to angle his hips to massage that one spot within you, how you like your clit to be played with, how he quickly discovers and memorises all the sweetest spots of your body. “Aw, cumming already? I barely touched you, does it feel this good?” - he’d purr, curling three of his long fingers inside of your needy cunny, thumb flicking swollen clit while hot mouth sucks on perked up nipples.

• Daddy kink? Daddy kink😏

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important, give writers some love<3

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imaginesmai · 6 months

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Right around the corner - Azriel (5)

AHHHHH this is the final part and let me tell you I'm SAD. It was so hard to write the ending you all deserve after all this love, so I tried my best. Let me know what you think! Also, you deserve A LOT, so I made it long hehehe. Don't worry, a request about the RATH universe is coming soon! If you want one too, drop it in my inbox!

(1), (2), (3), (4)

Plot: The story of how Azriel fixed what was broken, and how you forgave him.

Warnings: this is sad, but has a happy ending! Also, mental health issues.

No one expected the sidra to froze that year, and against everyone expectation, one day Velaris had woken up to see the riven covered by a silver layer. Children had missed school to skate in the solid surface, parents watching carefully from the edge. Some couples were skating too, holding hands and giggling endlessly.

You had been watching the new scene unfold all morning. And while you usually loved snow and ice as much as any child in town, you were starting to get a little sick of all the noise.

It wasn’t your new employee situation, who had been staring at the river all morning. She had already finished her duties, but always the polite and nice girl, Elain Archeron was keeping you company.

When you spotted for the third time the familiar red-head through the glass and she didn’t say anything, just sighed, you decided you had enough.

“You should tell him to get in before he freezes to death” you commented, still busy with measuring the ingredients.

“Oh, no” Elain blushed and looked away from the window. “No. He’s just… He can wait”

“He can, but doesn’t have to. You and Lucien should head out, rent ice skates and have a fun day. You already finished here” you smiled kindly at her, and before she could reply, you added. “I’m fine, I don’t even like cold weather. And I still need to finish this, which you can’t help me with. So, go”

Elain stared at you with uncertainty, and you tried to look as convinced as possible. Would you have liked her to stay? After all, she was one of the few people you socialized with these days. She had turned in when you opened the bakery again, right after you posted the sign about looking for a new partner.

And even if you had had your doubts when you discovered she was Feyre’s sister and Azriel’s friend, you considered her your own friend.

So, yeah, you would have liked her to stay. Because you were still awfully sad all the time, and her company was one of the few things that made your day better. But you being sad didn’t excuse her missing a wonderful day with her mate.

“It’s not closing time yet” her eyes danced between the glass and you. “He was supposed to wait for me at the house”

“Guess he’s too eager to see you. He’s been dancing around the bakery for a good hour” you chuckled. “Elain, I mean it. Go. Have fun. I’ll see you on Monday”

“Y/N, I promise I don’t mind waiting. It’s not like it will unfreeze”

“And I promise I don’t mind at all. So, go, have fun and tell me about it on Monday” you gripped her hand softly over the counter, nodding to the waiting mal outside. “Come on, go”

Lucien was once more outside the bakery, the only visible part of him his red hair. He was covered in thick layers, but still managed to smile when Elain kissed your cheek and took her coat on the way out.

You didn’t have it in you to watch them be affectionate with each other, so you looked down at your task and decided it would be the last of the day.

It was hard watching all those couples walking hand in hand and remembering the feel of his warm, scarred hand in yours. To hear a man laughing and remember the unexpected laughs you dragged out of him sometimes. Even looking at the river was painful, because you could almost see the ghost of Azriel and you learning how to skate in a frozen lake in the Illyrian mountains a few years ago.

You had seen Azriel around a few times now, walking through your bakery and waving at you through the glass. Two times he had been waiting at the door when it was late at night, silently walking you home from afar without talking. Almost two months had passed by and your feelings were still as messed up as before.

Though you didn’t cry as much as before, and you were starting to get better, you still wondered.

If Azriel getting help would mean your relationship would be fixed, or if it was broken permanently. Deep in your thoughts, and used as you were to Azriel’s shadows, you didn’t notice how they tugged on your apron until the door sounded again.

Elain’s name didn’t leave your lips, because as soon as the door opened, you lost your breath. As if you had summoned him, Azriel walked through the door, beautiful as ever. He wasn’t in his usual training leather, but winter clothes that fit him as a glove. Instantly, you noticed he had lost weight. His shoulders were slumped and his body didn’t carry the usual grace of an Illyrian warrior.

“Hi”

His scarred hands, that had held you so many times and slaughtered so many enemies, were tucked in his coat’s pockets. You could feel the nervousness through the bond, the hesitance. Too stunned to answer, you only stared at him.

You had known that, eventually, he would talk to you. That you would have to do more than just wave at each other through the glass and stay silent when he sent you details through Elain. But still, you hadn’t expected it.

Unable to move, you only blinked.

“I saw Elain and Lucien heading out” he added, not looking away from you. “It’s a nice day outside”

Azriel hadn’t finished before one of his new shadows scaped his control, sneaking around the counter. The familiar ones, that had been by your side since he left, danced around the new intrusion. It lifted your apron, and crawled up your neck.

The cool feeling was the last of your worries, because no matter how much you willed yourself to say something, you couldn’t even tear your eyes from him.

The bond flickered between the two of you, once more. Knowing that it was one-sided, that he didn’t wear it like you did, made break your trance.

“She’s finished for the day” you explained, sounding way more confident that what you felt.

“It’s a nice day, yeah” he repeated, not giving you time to feel awkward before he continued “I thought that maybe you wanted to take a walk with me. It’s cold, but we could… get coffee. Or chocolate, if you want”

Azriel gave you a half, broken smile. Hearing his voice again made you take ten steps backward.

“I have things to do”

You looked down to your current task, which could be easily discarded. You had left much important things half-done because of him, and you would have done it normally without a second thoughts. But no matter how heartful the conversation at your door had been, you just knew you weren’t ready to have a conversation without getting angry.

You knew you weren’t ready to forgive him.

His new shadow gripped your wrist tightly before disappearing, and you heard Azriel’s doubt. He wanted to say something else, and you wanted too. Still, you fell back to your measuring and ignored the way your vision blurred, how your knees became weak again.

Maybe going back to your duties was the only way not to break down again.

The silence continued for a long minute. You couldn’t not feel his presence, the way his scent filled the bakery and made your stomach turn. Your heart recognized what you needed, what you wanted, and threatened to jump out of your chest.

Before you could regret your words, Azriel opened the door again.

“You’re forgetting the yeast” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

When you looked up again, he only smiled. You opened your mouth to tell him to wait, maybe to fuck off and never come again. You didn’t have time, because Azriel closed the door behind him and he was gone.

The first tear fell against the unformed dough, followed by many more. You wouldn’t be finishing the blueberry cake that afternoon, you realized, as you crunched behind the counter and cried.

There was a storm coming, and everyone in Velaris had had the same idea – run to the market, buy everything they needed for a few days, and crowd themselves at home with their loved ones. You were trying to follow the first part of the plan, not having anyone to go home anymore. And if that wasn’t enough reason to drag you down, the crowd was getting intense.

Velaris’ market was a beautiful place, full of shops and nice vendors. But that day, the space felt too small.

You already had a few bags with you, yet there were a few more to go. Wanting to finish as soon as possible, you had ignored the rational part of your brain and had gotten in the middle of the crowd. You had only managed to buy milk and pasta, and still had a long way to go.

After Azriel’s brief appearance, your life had been messier than before. He had come by the bakery at least five times more, always offering you some kind of plan you rejected. Going to the park, for a flight or to a coffee shop. Taking walks, watching the sunset or training together.

You lived now half-prepared to see him walking through your door again, and not having the heart to tell him no. You weren’t sure if that thought frightened or comforted you.

In your haste, you had almost forgotten to buy provisions for the storm, and had found yourself on the worst day to do them. Crowded, loud and suffocating, that was how you would describe the market at that moment.

The fact that most people ran with their children and family wasn’t helpful at all.

Most of the times, it was Azriel who did the last-minute shopping for you. He knew you didn’t like crowds, loud places, that you did best in your bakery where only five people were allowed at a time.

Another shove broke you down from your daydreaming, and you looked back to see a pregnant woman staring with her eyebrows furrowed.

“The line is moving” she spatted, pointing to the small space ahead of you. “If you don’t move with it, you should step out”

“Oh, no” you chuckled softly. You picked up the bags on the ground and took the two small steps that you were supposed to. “Sorry, I just thought I could take a little bit more space. It’s crowded here”

“I don’t mind crowds, so if you want to step back, let me get first. I’m in a hurry”

“Me too” you gave her a polite smile, mindful of her state.

The short distance that separated you from the customer on the front was certainly not enough, and she knew it. Still, she looked at you with disapproval. There were only five more people to go until it was your turn, you could buy your snacks and run to the next stall.

You thought you could ignore the glare at the back of your neck, and you did for a few minutes. Without meaning to, you thought how everything with Azriel was easier. Not only people wouldn’t dare to talk to him like that, but also, he assured you a good meter of distance between you two and the rest of the world with his wings.

The snacks on your hands almost fell when, not even two seconds after the man took three steps forward, you were shoved again.

That time, when you looked back, the woman was accompanied by her mate. His wings covered her from the people behind them.

“You should really step out of the line” she repeated. “You might have all the time in the word, but we are in a hurry”

“Me too. You can’t expect me to be glued to that man” you tried to explain, anxiety coiling in your stomach. “He just moved”

“And you didn’t, which proves my point. Besides, it’s obvious you only have a few things. We have more”

“Which should be enough reason to let me go first, not only because I was here before you” you shrugged, feeling even more uncomfortable when the male huffed a laugh. “Maybe it’s you who shouldn’t have come here today if you can’t wait in a line”

You weren’t a threat for the woman, and you were trying really hard to be polite and prove your point. Besides, being pregnant wasn’t an easy task, and you could tell she was far along. Maybe you should have let her pass, or maybe told her to fuck off.

But before you could argue further, something clicked in the male’s eyes, wide with recognition.

And you would have preferred for him to go full berserk mode on you. Because you recognized that look, you had been receiving them for a while now.

The male elbowed the woman’s side softly, pointing with his chin towards you. You didn’t have time to turn back and avoid the conversation, because he spoke.

“You’re the shadowsinger’s mate” he announced, loud enough to make a few heads turn.

“Oh” the woman finally connected the dots and lunged forward to grab your arm so tight you couldn’t shake her off. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you”

“It��s fine. Don’t worry” you pushed your arm back, trying to let go.

While the woman apologized, you couldn’t help but listen to the whispers. The same ones you had heard in your bakery and through the streets. Some of them thrown in your face by rude or nosy customers that didn’t understand the concept of privacy, others by bystanders.

At the end, it was the woman who said it out loud, confirming what everyone in the small circle that had formed at the cue was wondering about. She finally let go of your arm and crossed hers in front of her body.

The look of pity wasn’t as bad as the confirmation.

“He rejected you, right?” it wasn’t a question, not when you didn’t answer and she continued. “We heard you’ve been mated for almost a century and he doesn’t want the bond. Is that true?”

It wasn’t true, but you didn’t have the heart to correct her. Instead, you turned around and used your wing-less privileges to sneak through the crowd. You kept your head down, as if that could stop you from hearing the comments or feeling the stares.

People had come up with an alternative version where Azriel and you had been mated for decades, for centuries. Where you had cheated on him or he had changed you for someone else. You had even heard that he had bonded with another person and had kicked you out of the house, and that you had been the one rejecting the bond.

Each version was farthest from the truth than the last one, but they all hurt the same. The crowd didn’t seem to get thinner no matter how deep you got in the market. Once the people who had heard the conversation were left behind, new people crowded you, worried about the girl panicking and running through the middle of the market.

There were a few occasions where you thought you would fall, where you tripped and almost embarrassed yourself farther. You had almost made it to the back entrance of the market when you finally realized you were tripping no more. There was no longer a crowd around you, nor whispers or hands reaching your way.

It took you another few steps to fully stop and assess the situation. When you looked back to see where the crowd was, you were met with a broad chest inches away from you. Through tearful eyes, you recognized Azriel’s wings tucking you away from people, his mere presence pushing them away.

You met his hazel eyes, full of worry and regret. His hair was longer, covering his brow, but you found comfort in his crooked nose, in his freckles, that you knew so well.

You noticed in his hands your bags that had been left in the stall, a new one with the snacks you were about to buy.

“What – what are you doing here?” you choked out, too grateful for the sudden moment of peace to wonder about anything else.

“I felt you through the bond, a few hours ago. Anxious and…” he stopped himself, his eyes scanning every tear that marked your cheeks. “I was just getting here when it got worse. I heard most of it. I’m –”

“Don’t say you’re sorry” you interrupted him. “It’s not your fault”

Out of the many things that were indeed his fault, people not minding their own business wasn’t his. You were used to him blaming himself for everything, from wars in other courts to people fighting in the street. The response came naturally.

Your nose was cold and runny, your hands frozen in your pockets, and your feet hurt. Besides all of that, you felt all wrong. Because you enjoyed his presence, because what they said, and because you couldn’t help but calm down when he was close.

Azriel didn’t say anything when you took the bags from his hands, thanking him quietly. He didn’t say anything as more people walked away from him, either because of his wings or because they recognized him.

“You don’t like last minute shopping”

It was a pointless observation, but it was better than to comment on how afraid he had been when, just outside the market, he felt the bond snap with urgence. His shadows knew where you were, and that you needed him, but even he had trouble running through crowds. Azriel also couldn’t talk about how mad he had been at everyone in that stall, how his new shadows had turned off every light and almost chocked them to death.

Azriel wanted to say that you were probably cold because you didn’t like your own coats, and most of the times wore one of his. He wanted to hug you, too, to feel you between his arms after what felt like an eternity and promise you that it would end well.

But he couldn’t say anything more than the obvious.

“I had to” you answered.

With a furious fist, frustrated at life, at him and at you, you brushed the tears off your cheeks. You could tell that he wanted to keep talking, and you did too. Since your last encounter, you had come up with more conversations you should have.

You stared at each other for what seemed forever. There were details that you had almost forgotten in your sorrow – like his long lashes, that you teased him about. Or the freckle that snuck up to the corner of his left eye. The way his mouth rose higher from the right, and the small scar on his ear from where Cassian dared him to wear an earring.

Only his face was enchanting enough to help you forget about the day, about the weight of your chest. It was the first closing call from the market, that sounded through the public speakers, that broke you away.

“I should go”

You talked at the same time, and you smiled softly when you pointed to different directions. You didn’t miss how his eyes fell to your mouth, how his own lifted up too.

“I could walk you back” he offered, not tearing his eyes away from your mouth. “If you let me”

You didn’t answer immediately. Those last words, that he had repeated so often lately, almost had you saying yes. You could almost imagine how it would go – him walking by your side, one of his wings behind your back. His elbow brushing yours, and his gaze fixed on you.

Your smile dropped when you remembered the times you had walked just like that, tucked together. The times you had waked by yourself through Velaris with his imprint on you, and the times he had left without a trace of your presence.

Azriel knew the answer before you said it, and his shoulders dropped slightly.

“Sorry”

That time, you decided to turn away before he could. Taking the back exit was a poor choice, knowing it was farther from your house than the main one, but you couldn’t picture yourself walking through the market without Azriel keeping the crowds a step away.

So you turned around, gripped your bags tight and didn’t tear your eyes from the ground during the whole way back.

It wasn’t Azriel who found you the time everything changed, but you.

The cold and winter were over, the streets were clean and the sun was out. It was a perfect day to spend outside, and Elain seemed fixed in throwing you out of your own shop. She claimed that the bags under your eyes were as dark as the night, and that your skin was so pale that she couldn’t tell the flour stains apart from it.

“Just for the record, you’re kicking the owner of the bakery out of the bakery” you stated, looking at her once more from the door. “You do realize that shouldn’t happen, right?”

“I’m helping a friend come out of her ghost-like season” she replied, still decorating muffins. “And you do realize that most shops close on Sunday’s, right?”

“Certainly not a bakery” you looked to the empty fountain at her right. “If we do it together, we will – “

“If you touch one single item of this bakery, I’m banning you from the kitchen for a month”

You doubted she meant it, she could. But still, you sighed and turned around to open the door. You weren’t an extrovert, certainly not an outsider. Since you were a child, you liked your kitchen, your house, and your space. And none of those things were outside the door.

But you actually feared what the fae you left behind would do if you turned back. Elain had already hidden your apron so you couldn’t put it on, and had threatened to mismatch the soy milk with normal one.

Giving her a last, tight smile through the glass, you walked towards the center of Velaris.

Not many people were outside that soon on a Sunday morning, but you were glad for her insistence the moment the sun kissed your face. The cold weather was disappearing and you could feel warmth across your cheeks. It was still cold, and it would be for at least another week, but the change in the weather promised a happy spring.

You walked aimlessly around Velaris, stopping to watch the Sidra move every now and then. Your feet carried you through unfamiliar streets, all of them filled with colors and smells. The longer you walked, the healthier you felt. Each step felt like a weight lifted from your chest, and you even smiled to a few usuals you found in the streets.

The main square peeked through the streets. It wasn’t your usual destination, too crowded and not as pretty as other parts of the town. But you still walked through it, feeling at ease and happy.

It had happened before, usually the days before you started your cycle, and you should have known the feeling of ease had nothing to do with the weather or the walk. It had happened and it happened again, just as you rounded a corner to walk in the square.

If, by any chance, Azriel hadn’t noticed you coming, the shadows that tugged him away from where he was standing would have made it obvious.

His eyes widened when he saw you, and you felt that peaceful feeling making its home for the day. There was no sorrow, no sadness, and none of the usual feelings that lately you felt when it came to him.

You cursed yourself stupid when you realized that you cycle was coming, and that every year you were in a mood until Azriel showed up, your hormones demanding your mate.

“Y/N”

Your name fell from your mouth and just by hearing it you noticed something different. It was new, and at the same time, you thought you recognized it somehow. You looked to his empty hands, to the syphons on his shoulders and chest and truth-teller on his side.

It looked like you had interrupted something important to him. But instead of running away from him like the last two times, you took a step closer.

“Are you going on a mission?” you pointed with your chin to his leather, eyes stopping at his chest. There was that thing, that you couldn’t name.

“Just came back. I was…”

Azriel looked to the building he just exited and for a moment, in silence. You had met a bunch of times since the incident in the market, and you had started having longer conversations. About the weather, about your bakery, and even about his family, who you finally knew officially.

Certainly, your relationship had improved, although it wasn’t just fixed yet. When he didn’t answer, you were reminded of all the times he had kept things to himself, either out of fear or doubt.

He seemed to doubt between telling you and keeping it to himself. Any other time, you knew, he would have kept it to himself. He had done it, in the past – when you asked him about his job, or tried to understand his past. Many times where he had evaded the truth or his emotions.

Your mood, that had been in a rush since you left the bakery, fell a little at his silence. He looked torn and you were ready to leave, before he answered.

“This is Madja’s house. I meet her here so we can talk, usually during the week” he looked back at you, watching the surprise of his statement. “But something happened and I needed to talk to her”

“What happened?”

Azriel’s lips were pressed tight, debating on whether he should tell you or not. He wouldn’t have doubted about it a year ago – he wouldn’t tell you, because in his eyes, it would only hurt you more than he already had. But he had learnt new things, and had realized that a relationship was built on trust. And that his fears, his perception of the reality, had broken yours.

He had cut the mission short when he had noticed, though he wasn’t sure he had ever done something like that. Azriel didn’t know what had triggered it, why it happened in the Winter court and not anytime sooner.

Madja, of course, had had an answer ready – an answer that had left him staring at her door for long twenty minutes before you appeared.

“Kallias should have sent something to Rhysand, but he didn’t” he started, not sure why he was traveling so far from the event. “So I went to check. Turns out someone must have taken it and, well, I tried to…”

He trailed off before he could finish, aware of your confusion. You never talked about what he did for Rhysand, in any court. No matter how big or small was the assignment, he didn’t tell you about it.

But that wasn’t what your confusion was about, at least not all of it. You couldn’t possibly notice because you had given it for granted since the beginning, but Azriel did notice. He noticed the change as soon as it happened, and babbled when he explained to Rhysand what he should have been feeling for years.

Had explained to Madja moments ago, who had given him a knowing smile and a proud nod.

“I accepted the bond” he confessed, continuing before you could say anything else. “I don’t know how, or why, but I was there and suddenly I was hit with – with this in my chest, and I don’t know why it wouldn’t happen sooner”

“You accepted the bond” you repeated, looking between his chest and face.

“I don’t know how, or why now. I was, thinking… And it hit me” Azriel smiled sadly, not saying what his thoughts were about – what they had been about since that night. “I didn’t want to tell you, because, this is, you don’t have to do anything now. Me accepting the bond doesn’t change what I did”

Azriel hadn’t meant to tell you, neither to be so vague and ridiculously nervous about it.

It had been a surprise when, in the middle of a conversation, he felt it. He had been thinking about you, because there were flowers and they were pretty against the cold weather, and to him, you were the prettiest thing the Cauldron had made. One moment Kallias had been going through the last movements of the package and the next the high lord was looking at him with raised brows.

Congratulating him for something that should have happened six years ago.

“It’s not that I didn’t want the bond before, Y/N” he continued when you didn’t say anything. “I promise you, I didn’t know how to accept it. I didn’t know that I deserved it”

Azriel had thought, and he still wanted to, that you so pretty that you were meant for someone else. That it was borrowed time, that he didn’t deserve the bond just as he didn’t deserve you. With Madja and Rhys, they had had deep conversations about his mental health, about his version of life where he lived through a glass of pain and rejection.

As he stared at your surprised form, he tried not to let hope leak into his heart. He knew it didn’t fix what was broken, but he hoped it was the first step of a long recovery to win you back.

Only if you could confirm or deny, instead of stare at him.

“Say something” Azriel finally broke, almost begged. “Whatever you want. Just say something”

And you wanted to, because wasn’t that what you had wanted? You had fooled yourself lately thinking about may what ifs. What if he had accepted the bond in the bagging, what if he had told you that he wasn’t fine, that he was broken and needed help.

What if you had helped him and not rushed things when he wasn’t ready. Now, it felt like the Cauldron was giving you that opportunity, only that you didn’t know how to react.

You finally looked away from him and decided to give an experimental tug on the bond, to see if anything had changed.

It had.

“Az”

It was a chuckle, maybe the beginning of a cry. It was anger but also relief because what came back from that tug wasn’t what you usually felt. It was stronger, solid, as if there was a physical string between your bodies that kept you linked.

Usually, it was just an intense feeling that was enough for you. But now that you felt him tugging back, felt him loving you, you couldn’t hold back another laugh. He shoved down through it everything he felt – adoration, love, joy. Many fears that had you stumbling towards him, and pain.

So much pain that your smile dropped. His dropped too, and you felt the bond getting fainter.

“That’s another reason. I didn’t want you to feel… that” Azriel retreated the bond farther. “I have so many fears and pains here that I couldn’t even imagine sharing them with you. And that – “

“You don’t have to feel ashamed” you cut him off, your voice hoarse. “I love you the same”

Words were unnecessary when you hugged his middle and buried yourself in his chest. He curled around you, like he had done so many times.

The channel snapped open again, and you just closed your eyes tightly. It was an endless source of emotions, and it broke you that most of them were bad. There was rejection, from so many people that it felt like an angry, black bull coming your way. Sadness that felt overwhelming and never ending, always coming in waves when Azriel didn’t expect it.

You also felt disgust, and you only held him tighter when you discovered it was self-disgust. Not only at the things that he had done, but also at what had been done to him. The scars on his hands, the shadows around him. He had hated himself for so long he had forgotten how to love.

But then, at the bottom, there was something bright, and that part you realized it was only dedicated to you. There was his family too, but it wasn’t as intense as his love for you. Everything that he lacked during his life, that he yearned for, was tucked where it mattered the most.

“I love you” he whispered against your head, softly. “I love you”

You didn’t answer, just raised your head until you could brush your lips against him. Later, you would have time to blame the cycle, which you wouldn’t get for another two months, or the emotions of the moment. But you knew it was just what you needed, what you both deserved, when you felt him kissing back.

At the beginning, it was just his lips against yours, and it was enough. Your noses brushed each other, you got on your tiptoes and his wing cocooned both of you. His hands only pressed you tighter against his body when you moved your lips against his, brushing the edge of your tongue against his bottom one.

Azriel could barely keep himself straight when you silently asked for permission to open his mouth, which he happily obliged.

From that moment, it was crashing. The kiss was only a physical proof of your feelings traveling through the mated bond, so wild and intense you couldn’t tell which one was his or yours.

“I’m sorry, darling” he whispered against your lips, giving you no time to reply. “I’m sorry for hurting you, for being a coward. I’m sorry”

“I forgive you. We don’t keep secrets anymore” you managed to say between kisses.

“Never” Azriel answered while leaving kisses on your cheeks and nose.”

“And we’ll talk about our emotions, and feelings. You’ll tell me about your life when I ask”

“Always”

“You won’t close off to me” you pulled his head away and made him look at you.

While you held his face between your hands, Azriel smiled. It was a different smile from the previous ones, from the ones you had seen so far. It was carefree, loving, and yours.

Your thumb brushed the corner of his eye, his upper cheek, the border of his nose.

“I’m here, Azriel. Always. So you don’t have to hide anything from me, or to be ashamed or afraid. I’m here” you closed the distance once more, controlling the kiss by holding onto his face. “Right around the corner”

“Right around the corner” he repeated, dipping his head and sealing all his promises with another kiss.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

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