To Turn A Bad Thing Good | Jjk. Masterlist

a song of past romance a royal / greek au gojo fic

pairing ⸺ suitor/king!gojo x princess!reader

summary ⸺ king gojo satoru of ithaca travels to sparta, seeking to win over who they say is the most beautiful mortal woman's heart. so when he sees you upon his arrival weaving under an olive tree, looking goddess-sent, he immediately loses the plot and concludes that it must be you that the tales and legends must talk about. it is not, but gojo has chosen who his queen will be. as gojo continues to break down your walls with his endless devotion and silver tongue, you must decide: will you let duty and your loved ones's expectations decide your fate, or will you choose the man who would defy even the heavens to claim you as his queen ?

warnings ⸺ smut, p i v sex, oral f recieving, whimpering gojo agenda <3, fluff, a big of angst if you squint, some insecurity, pining, banterTM, gojo is really whipped for reader, odypen inspired (this one's for my epic/pjo baddies), extensive greek mythology knowledge not needed, athena is tired of gojo lol, jealousy, helen is a sassy diva, not totally accurate to the lore of the illiad bc i just use the premise, mentions of children/pregnancy at the end if you squint, semi edited, art by @/yunonoaii

a/n my hyperfixation made me write this lol. you dont need to know anything about greek mythology to read this fic it's more of a period piece / royal au :3

general masterlist

You had registered the young man’s presence for quite some time now.

Ever since your beloved cousin Helen—the most beautiful woman in the world, the kallikomos, kalliparēios Helen—had come of age, your palace had been plagued by an unceasing tide of suitors. Even a respite alone in the garden, in peace, was not guaranteed to you; just as the ivory haired suitor (who thought himself furitive) that had been sneaking and skirting around you for a while now, there were countless of men on the palace grounds desperate to even get a glimpse of what the countless legends and tales about Helen had described. 

Though, you weren’t jealous of your lovely cousin—you loved her to death. But it was getting on your nerves, because you had hoped for a quiet evening relaxing under the olive tree you were sitting in. This mn, however, was different.

For some time now, the ivory-haired suitor had been skirting the edges of your sanctuary, moving as though he thought himself invisible. You could feel his gaze, sharp and intent, as you alternated between weaving and reading. His persistence should have irritated you. And yet, there was something amusing about his poor attempt at stealth.

The telltale rustle of grass betrayed him once again. You sighed, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear before reaching up to gather it all, baring the curve of your neck to the evening breeze.

The stalker suitor tripped with a loud thud.

You blinked. Then, sighing once more, you set down your spindle and turned. "I know you’re there," you called, unimpressed.

Silence, then a low chuckle.

When he finally stepped into the open, your disinterested gaze lifted—and promptly widened.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. The build of a warrior, yet the face of a prince. A mischievous, almost boyish charm softened the sharp lines of his features, but his striking blue eyes gleamed with something untamed.

Helen would have a field day with him. Like that one thing she said about how she looovedd versatile men, the ones that could manhandle you but also whimper. Or whatever. 

Then, to your utter shock, he dropped to one knee, extending his hand toward you in a bold gesture of devotion. His demeanor was confident, but you saw him sporting a hue of pink on his cheeks. It was rather cute, but any feelings of fondness disappeared at his next words.

"O’ Helen—" the suitor began, his voice rich with reverence, "fairest of all women, whose beauty outshines even the dawn—"

You exhaled sharply through your nose. Of course.

"—permit me but a moment to bask in your radiance, for no mortal man could gaze upon you and remain unchanged—"

Your fingers curled tightly around the threads of your spindle.

"—grant me the honor of—"

"Try again," you cut in, your voice deceptively sweet.

The suitor paused mid-sentence, blinking up at you.

"Pardon?"

You raised an unimpressed brow, tilting your head. "If you’re going to wax poetic, you might at least direct it toward the right woman."

His lips parted, then pressed into a puzzled frown. He tilted his head, sharp blue eyes scanning your face as if trying to decipher a riddle. "But… you are Helen," he said slowly, as if testing the words.

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. "Afraid not."

A pause.

His gaze flickered over you again, as if he could will you into being Helen just by staring hard enough. "Are you sure?"

You gave him a look. "I would hope I know my own name."

His brows drew together, clearly struggling to process this revelation. "But you’re—you’re sitting under an olive tree, looking vaguely divine. Your hair caught the light just now in a way that seemed very… goddess-sent. You have the whole tragic air of someone who is probably devastatingly beautiful and sought after by hundreds."

You blinked, trying to fight the heat creeping up your neck. You shouldn’t be affected by his bromides, for his words must be a ploy to gain back his image after offending you. "Is that supposed to be an apology?"

He squinted. "More like a logical assessment of my mistake."

You sighed. "Well, your 'logical assessment' is incorrect."

He sat back on his heels, regarding you with blatant skepticism. "I don’t know," he said slowly. "I came here for Helen. You’re here. And you're lovely. Seems like a very Helen thing to do."

You gave him a flat stare in return. "What, exist?"

"Exactly."

You rolled your eyes. "I see why they make you fight instead of think."

At that, the suitor huffed a short laugh, his earlier embarrassment giving way to something more amused, more interested. "Alright," he conceded, crossing his arms over his knee. "If you aren’t Helen, then who are you?"

You leaned back against the tree, allowing yourself a small, satisfied smirk. "The woman you just proposed to by accident."

He blinked. Then groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "The gods are laughing at me."

"As they should," you replied smoothly.

To your surprise, he grinned. "That makes two of us, then," he mused, tilting his head at you. "I get the feeling you enjoy seeing men suffer."

A non committal hum from you. “Maybe, maybe not.” With that, you began weaving once more, giving him the signal that his presence and platitudes were no longer needed.  

Yet, he remained.

You could feel his gaze lingering, heavy with an amusement that refused to wane. He had the look of someone thoroughly entertained, and that irritated you more than anything. Having conversed with him, you knew he was sharper than the average suitor—quick-witted, quicker still to recover from his blunders. Though he had not done anything to overtly suggest it, there was something about him that set him apart. It was a feeling—an air around him, something god-graced.

You paid it no mind.

He had not meant for you to be the one on the receiving end of his affection, and it would do you no good to cling to a man who had come here seeking another. He was meant to lose his mind over Helen, not take interest in you.

"Tell me your name," he said suddenly, breaking the silence.

You didn't pause in your weaving. "Why?"

A short huff of laughter. "I figure if I’m already embarrassing myself in front of a woman, I should at least know which one."

You shot him a sidelong glance, unimpressed. "Bold of you to assume you’ll be staying long enough for it to matter."

His grin deepened. "Well, now I have to stay, just to prove you wrong."

You sighed, shaking your head. "You’re insufferable."

"I’ve been told worse," he admitted. Then, leaning forward just slightly, he added, "Though never by a woman whose name I don’t know."

You lifted a brow at him, unimpressed. "And do you have a name, then, mysterious suitor?"

His expression shifted, something proud yet teasing gleaming in those striking blue eyes.

"Gojo Satoru," he declared, as if it should mean something to you. "Of Ithaca."

You hummed, as if considering. "Never heard of it."

He blinked, then scoffed. "Never heard of Ithaca?" He placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "A land of brilliant minds, fierce warriors, and some say the most handsome men to ever walk the earth—"

"Ah," you interjected, dry. "That explains it."

He smirked. "Explains what?"

"Why I’ve never heard of it."

A beat of silence. Then, to your dismay, he laughed—fully, unabashedly, as if you’d just handed him the greatest gift in the world.

You huffed, returning your attention to your weaving. "Now that you have a name to be proud of, surely you can be on your way."

"Not yet," he said, far too easily.

You didn’t look up. "Why?"

"Because you haven’t given me yours."

You didn’t miss the way his voice dipped, taking on something smoother, something more coaxing. He was trying to charm it out of you, as if your name was a prize worth winning.

"Perhaps I simply don’t wish to give it," you mused, feigning disinterest.

"Perhaps you’re afraid," he countered.

You did look up at that, leveling him with an unimpressed stare. "Afraid?"

He shrugged, utterly unbothered. "That if I know your name, I’ll never forget it." His gaze flickered to your hands, to the weaving that had slowed ever so slightly. "And maybe… neither will you."

You forced yourself to resume your work, your fingers steady despite the odd flutter in your chest. "You think too highly of yourself, Gojo Satoru of Ithaca."

"I’m told it’s my greatest flaw," he admitted, smirking. "Well—one of many."

You ignored him, the rhythmic motion of your weaving serving as a convenient distraction.

Gojo exhaled, as if relenting—though something told you he was nowhere near finished with you. He rocked back on his heels, eyeing you with unconcealed interest. "Alright, mystery woman," he drawled. "If you won’t give me your name, I suppose I’ll have to keep guessing."

You didn't dignify that with a response.

But somehow, you knew—this would not be the last time Gojo Satoru of Ithaca sought you out.

He had yet to claim your name.

No matter how cunningly he pried, no matter how sweetly he coaxed, you remained steadfast, denying him that small but significant victory.

Satoru had undoubtedly set sail for Sparta in search of a worthy challenge and a faithful bride—but he had not expected to find both in one woman. You were a puzzle, divine and elusive, a riddle spun by the Fates themselves. And for a man who relished the thrill of unraveling mysteries, you were the most captivating enigma he had ever encountered.

Not since the day he bested the enchanted boar—a feat that had drawn Athena’s keen eye and earned him her favor—had he felt such a rush.

He’d dare say you were the first one he’s felt an affinity for, despite the countless of women and candidates he had faced ever since becoming the king of Ithaca.

But before he could ponder more on the thought, he sensed a presence, tensing immediately. Heavy-set footsteps, trying to be quiet in the hallway they were both in.

Satoru crossed his arms, halted where he was. “I know you’re there.”

A laugh barked out in a deep voice. “Perceptive like they say, Gojo Satoru of Ithaca.” 

Satoru watched as Toji Fushiguro sauntered toward him, his movements unhurried, yet carrying the unmistakable confidence of a seasoned warrior. The man was broad-shouldered, his presence commanding, the kind of brute who could cleave a man in half with a single swing of his blade. Yet his grin—sharp, knowing—held more calculation than recklessness.

Toji came to a stop before him, arms crossed, weight shifted onto one foot like he had all the time in the world, smirking. "No wonder Athena’s got her eye on you."

Satoru tilted his head, feigning nonchalance. "I do have a way of impressing gods and mortals alike," he mused. "Though I imagine you didn’t come all this way just to admire me."

“Just assessing the competition,” Toji hums in response, eyes still assessing Satoru. He was trying to plan three steps ahead; unfortunately for him, Satoru was ten steps ahead. 

“There is no competition,” comes Satoru’s cool response. 

Toji studied Satoru for a moment, his sharp green eyes narrowing slightly. Then, with an amused scoff, he asked, "You’re not here to fight for Helen’s hand? Are you crazy?”

Satoru let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as if the very thought was amusing. "Helen?" he echoed, letting the name roll from his tongue with deliberate care. He lifted a hand, absently brushing an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve. "No, I’m afraid I have no interest in her."

Toji studied him, eyes narrowing. "She’s the most beautiful woman in the world."

Satoru did not deny it. "So they say."

"And yet," Toji pressed, his tone skeptical, "you aren’t here for her?"

Satoru finally looked at him properly, his head tilting, his gaze alight with something teasing, something unreadable. "Not in the way you are." He let the words settle between them before continuing, his tone almost indulgent. "You’re welcome to her."

Toji’s mouth pressed into a thin line. His instincts told him Satoru was not lying, yet something about the Ithacan’s expression, the way he carried himself, the glint in those striking blue eyes—it all made him wary. He had met many warriors in his time, but this was no brute with a sword, no hotheaded prince desperate to claim a prize.

Satoru Gojo was something else entirely.

"So what is it, then?" Toji asked, crossing his arms tighter, his voice edged with suspicion. "You sailed all this way, and for what? A festival?"

Satoru’s smirk deepened, his expression inscrutable. "Let’s just say Sparta has given me a rather interesting puzzle."

Toji scoffed but let it drop, running a hand through his dark hair. "Whatever," he muttered. "If you're really not here for Helen, then maybe you can help me."

Satoru hummed in vague interest. "Oh?"

"I intend to win her," Toji stated plainly. "But I could use an extra hand in ensuring things go my way."

Satoru did not answer immediately. Instead, he turned his gaze upward, as though admiring the vaulted ceilings of the hall, as though considering some grander design that only he could see. Then, with the ease of a man wholly unbothered by the concerns of others, he exhaled through his nose, the beginnings of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Don't worry about it," he said at last, his voice rich with something almost too smooth, too assured. "Everything is already falling into place."

Toji stiffened slightly at the words, his war-honed instincts bristling at their implication. He did not like things he could not predict, and Gojo Satoru of Ithaca was proving to be as unreadable as the gods themselves.

His brows lowered. "And what the hell does that mean?"

But Satoru only laughed, turning on his heel, the faintest shimmer of torchlight catching in his silver-white hair.

"Guess you’ll just have to wait and see."

And with that, he strode off, his footsteps unhurried, leaving Toji standing in the flickering shadows, frowning after him.

The great hall of Sparta was alive with the clash of bronze and the roars of men. The suitors, assembled from all corners of Greece, fought with a desperation that could only belong to those who sought glory and the hand of Helen. Blades flashed, spears thrust, and the resounding clamor of shields meeting shields filled the air like the din of battle.

Satoru Gojo of Ithaca stood at the edge of the fray, watching with a detached amusement. He had not drawn his blade, nor did he so much as feign interest in the chaos unfolding before him. Instead, his arms were loosely crossed, his posture relaxed, his sharp blue gaze studying each warrior as though they were mere pieces on a game board.

Meanwhile, you and Helen watched from the shade of a marble colonnade, seated atop a cushioned bench where servants had arranged fruits and wine for the both of you. But neither of you reached for the offerings; your gazes remained transfixed on the chaos below.

You shook your head at the ridiculous display. "It must be nice to be fought for by so many men," you murmured, resting your chin in your palm.

Helen sighed daintily—in a way that was so typically Helen it made you smile fondly—her hair catching the afternoon light like threads spun from the sun itself. “I will admit that it has its advantages.”

You cast her a dry look before gesturing at the men below. “Helen,” you shook your head, sighing exasperatedly, “they’re savages. They’re beating each other senselessly. Does this not disgust you?” Instead, your cousin’s beautiful lips curled up in a knowing smile, teasing you, “Jealous, my dear cousin?”

“No.” But the answer came a little too quickly, a little too defensively. The yells and violence was a display of brutishness—but you would not be truthful to yourself if you didn’t admit that you were a bit envious of the attention your cousin was getting. 

However, one would be a fool to confuse your sentiments for bitterness—as a princess yourself, there were no shortage of men who would be here to get you as a prize, if they did not get Helen. No shortage of men wondering who is he? Who is the man who’ll have the princess as his wife?

But unfortunately, it seemed that your father, the Spartan king Icarius, had other plans, for he would not let any man be your husband so easily. In fact, he did not wish you to marry and be taken away from him.

It was safe to say that not much male attention was on you due to this obstacle.

Helen showed no reaction to your response, but only hummed. “This fighting—sooner or later, you’re going to be in my shoes. You’re going to have to choose at one point, too, my dear.” 

“Says who?” You scoffed, turning your eyes back to the courtyard. “Do not forget Helen, these men want power. Power so they can tower above each other, place themselves above all others.”

Helen shrugged. “So what?”

You shook your head. “Silly Helen. Wouldn’t you prefer some intellectual prowess over some…savage?”  

Before Helen could reply, a shift in the air drew both of your attention back to the courtyard.

The chaos had stilled, if only for a moment. A singular figure stood at the center of it all, his ivory hair catching the wind, his stance languid yet poised.

That suitor.

The gathered nobles whispered among themselves, exchanging glances as Satoru approached the high table where the King of Sparta, Tyndareus, sat watching. The aged king stroked his beard, his expression unreadable as the Ithacan prince stopped before him, offering a bow that barely concealed the glint of mischief in his eyes.

"Your Majesty," Satoru began smoothly, "it seems we have our victor. But before we move forward, I believe there is an agreement that must be made."

The murmurs in the hall grew louder. Tyndareus narrowed his eyes slightly. "Speak, Gojo of Ithaca."

Satoru straightened, clasping his hands behind his back. "These men have come from every kingdom in Greece, each seeking the honor of marrying your daughter. Such a prize, however, comes with its dangers. Whoever wins Helen’s hand will earn not just her love but the envy and ire of the rest." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the hall. "If left unchecked, this jealousy could lead to war."

Tyndareus’s jaw tightened. It was a concern he himself had harbored, though few had dared to speak it outright.

Satoru’s lips curled at the edges, his voice turning smooth, persuasive. "I propose an oath. Let every suitor here, whether victorious or defeated, swear allegiance to Helen’s chosen husband. Let them vow, upon the gods, to uphold this union and defend it should any outside force seek to undo it. In doing so, Sparta ensures peace among the great kingdoms, rather than sows the seeds of discord."

Silence fell over the hall. The assembled nobles exchanged glances, the weight of the proposal heavy in the air. Even Toji, ever the warrior, raised a brow in consideration.

Tyndareus studied Satoru for a long moment, his fingers tapping against the armrest of his throne. Then, slowly, he nodded. "You are wise beyond your years, Gojo of Ithaca. Your proposal is sound. Let it be done."

A herald stepped forward, calling for the gathered suitors to kneel. One by one, they bent the knee, placing their hands over their hearts, swearing their loyalty to Helen’s future husband, binding themselves to an oath that would shape the course of history.

As the final echoes of the vow rang through the hall, Satoru turned his gaze to Toji, his smirk deepening ever so slightly. The pieces were falling into place, just as he had foreseen.

Meanwhile, in your place—where you and Helen were spectating the whole event away from common sight—Helen nudged you slightly, voice hushed in interest you hadn’t seen her display for any suitor yet. “Did you see that—the way he sweet talked my father?” Her gentle eyes widened in a way that could kill a man. “Who is he?”

You had no answer. Because, truthfully, you were wondering the same thing.

The palace gardens were quiet at this hour, bathed in the golden glow of the late afternoon sun. The scent of myrrh and olive trees lingered in the air, mixing with the faint salt of the distant sea. You sat with Helen beneath the shade of a vine-laden pergola, her back pressed against your legs as you wove your fingers through her silken strands, carefully braiding them into an intricate plait.

Helen, ever the restless one, sighed dramatically. “Do you suppose I should be flattered or terrified?”

You didn’t have to ask what she meant. The courtyard had been in an uproar for hours after the suitors’ oath had been sworn. Servants gossiped in hushed tones, and noblewomen tittered behind their veils. The future queen of Sparta had just gained the loyalty of every warrior present—whether she wanted it or not.

“Why not both?” you mused, separating another section of her hair.

Helen laughed, tossing her head slightly. “It is one thing to be the object of admiration. It is quite another to be the cause of bloodshed.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, though your fingers stilled when she spoke again, voice full of mischief.

“Did you see him?”

You resumed braiding. “Who?”

Helen turned just enough to throw you an incredulous look. “Who?” she repeated, mockingly. “As if you do not know exactly who I speak of. Gojo Satoru of Ithaca.”

You clicked your tongue. “Oh, him.”

“Oh, him?” Helen scoffed. “Do not play coy, cousin. He commanded that entire courtyard without lifting a blade.”

You smiled, but she could not see you. “That only proves he is cunning,” you pointed out, keeping your voice neutral.

“That proves he is powerful,” Helen countered, shifting as you tugged lightly at her braid. “He held those men in the palm of his hand.”

Barking out a laugh, you continued your work. “Or perhaps he simply enjoys hearing himself speak.”

Helen laughed, tilting her head back against your lap. “You wound me with your dullness. Do you not see? There was something about him. He has the air of a man accustomed to winning.”

You tried not to scowl. Of course he did.

And if Helen had her eye on him, there was no chance for you.

The thought settled in your chest like a stone.

It was not as though you had entertained any hopes—but you were not blind. The way he had looked at you in the hallways, the way he had tried to coax your name from you, the way he had seemed amused by your defiance. It had sparked something treacherous inside of you, something unspoken and foolish.

Because no man, no matter how powerful or wise, would ever choose you over Helen.

You forced your thoughts aside and tightened the braid. “And what of Toji Fushiguro?” you asked lightly, forcing the subject to change. “I noticed you watching him as well.”

Helen hummed, pleased with the shift in conversation. “A brute, but a striking one. I imagine he fights as well as he looks.”

You snorted. “I imagine he thinks with his fists.”

“All the better,” Helen teased. “I should not mind a warrior who throws me over his shoulder and carries me off.”

You rolled your eyes, but you giggled regardless. “You are insufferable.”

Helen twisted, kneeling so that you were now face to face. She reached for your hair, her fingers beginning to weave it into a braid of your own.

“You say I am insufferable, but you have yet to deny that Gojo Satoru is worth admiring,” she murmured.

You sighed exasperatedly, looking anywhere except for your cousin’s eyes. “Must we discuss this?”

Helen’s fingers worked deftly, her expression smug. “It is only natural to discuss the most intriguing men.”

“And yet I am sure you are doing it to torment me.”

“Perhaps a little.” Helen’s grin softened as she studied you. “You would not be so opposed to him if you did not find him interesting.”

You swallowed, looking away. “That is not—”

“You braid my hair with such care,” she interrupted, looping another section of yours. “And yet, you guard your own thoughts as if I am the enemy.”

You closed your eyes briefly, inhaling the scent of lavender and sun-warmed stone. Helen had always been perceptive when she wished to be.

“There is nothing to guard,” you murmured.

Helen merely smiled, finishing your braid with a satisfied tug.

But the knowing look in her eyes unsettled you more than any battle in the courtyard ever could.

Despite coming for Helen, Satoru continuously seeks your presence.

Your presence is intoxicating, even the smallest of glimpses of you enough to induce a feeling, one he’d liken to eating the gods’ ambrosia or drinking the finest nectar. Every time he saw you, it was passing moments in the hallways of the palace or sneaked glances while you were in the garden—your chin up, posture proud. Your eyes downcast as if you had no interest in the countless of men among you. The light only returned when you were weaving, or discussing with your cousin.

But Satoru had not been able to see you more than just those miniscule, fleeting moments—it was your accursed father that kept an eye on you during dinners, his withered glare threatening all suitors, as if to remind them: You’re here for Helen, and keep my daughter out of this, for she is not a prize you can easily win.

Little did he know Satoru loved challenges.

So he thanks the gods that an annual Spartan festival is thoroughly celebrated in the palace today.

The hall is the spitting image of revelry. Men adorn their finest tunics while women have braids of flowers and cloths, wine, fresh fruits, and meat are plentiful on all tables. There’s singing, there’s dancing, and, best of all, there’s you.

Satoru’s been observing you for quite some time now. It wouldn’t be fair to call it something akin to a predator stalking his prey; no, you far from being bested by Satoru. More like a bird waiting for all the weaker mates to filter themselves out.

They were like peacocks, the men that came up to you, with the way they flared their artificial grandeur. Each time a young man sat next to you, you remained aloof, giving them nothing but a bunch of polite glances and nods. But it was clear that what ever your responses or questions were, they were nonplussed. Satoru almost felt bad for the fools if it weren’t for how they were encroaching on his time to finally talk to you.

It was the opening that a particularly witless and brutish man had given him—the guy basically leaves the seat next to you, almost in tears from whatever you had said to him, but you only blinked as Satoru approached.

Satoru slid into the recently vacated seat beside you with the grace of a man who had never been denied anything in his life. He draped an arm over the back of his chair, all effortless ease, as if he had been waiting for this moment all night.

"Whatever you said to him, I’d like to hear it," he mused, his lips quirking in amusement. "Though I do hope you go a little easier on me—I’m rather sensitive, you see."

Your gaze flickered to him, unimpressed, though there was something almost imperceptible in your eyes—mild intrigue, perhaps.

"If you are so easily wounded, Your Majesty, then I fear you are not prepared for a Spartan woman’s words."

His grin widened. "Oh, but I live for danger."

You hummed, noncommittal, before returning your attention to the food before you. Satoru, however, found himself transfixed by the way you reached for a slice of fruit, your fingers delicate yet decisive as you brought it to your lips. You took a slow, deliberate bite, and for the first time in his life, Satoru forgot how to speak.

It was absurd, really. He had seen beautiful women eat before—Helen herself had a practiced elegance to it—but there was something about you. Something about the unthinking ease with which you did it, how your lips parted just slightly before closing around the fruit, how you chewed with quiet, effortless grace, unbothered by the weight of hungry gazes that lingered on you.

For a man who had always been surrounded by beauty, who had spent his life sated and indulged, it was utterly unfair that something so simple could leave him spellbound.

Perhaps the gods were toying with him.

"You’ve been staring for quite some time," you remarked, snapping him out of his reverie.

Satoru exhaled a laugh, recovering with impressive speed. "Can you blame me? I’m simply trying to unravel the mystery of how you managed to make that poor soul flee in tears. I’d rather not suffer the same fate."

"Then I suggest you leave now, Your Majesty."

"Not a chance."

You sighed, though there was the ghost of amusement at the corner of your lips. "Persistent, aren’t you?"

Satoru grinned. "And yet, here you are, still talking to me."

He watched as you reached for another piece of fruit, this time slower, as if testing him, watching to see if he would stare again. He nearly laughed—because, of course, he did.

"You truly are hopeless," you muttered, shaking your head.

"Ah, but at least I am entertaining," he countered. "And I do believe I’ve managed what those other poor fools could not—I’ve kept your attention."

You opened your mouth to retort, but he was faster. "Go on, you can admit it," he teased. "I make for much better company than them, don’t I?"

For a moment, you merely regarded him, expression unreadable. Then, to his absolute delight, a soft laugh escaped your lips.

It was small, barely more than an exhale, but it was real.

And gods, it was beautiful.

Satoru leaned in slightly, drinking in the sight of you as if committing it to memory.

"See?" he murmured, triumphant. "I told you I’m quite good at this."

Your amusement lingered, but you shook your head as if in exasperation. "If you say so."

He did not say so. He knew so.

Because despite all the reasons he had come to Sparta, despite all the men who had gathered to win Helen’s hand, Satoru had found himself drawn to you instead.

And he had no intention of stopping now.

But before he could get another word in, a horn sounds, and you nod to him, somewhat apologetically. “That is my call.”

Before he can ask, you head, skirts fluttering behind you as you move to join a growing group of young ladies in the middle. It’s clear the gathering has captured the interest of most of the men that were previously dining. 

You make your way down to the middle, where you arrive at your position—it’s the one you’ve occupied every year. This dance is a show of grace and lineage, a chance for the noblemen to watch and admire, to see which girl carries herself with the most poise, the most elegance, the most effortless charm.

In Gojo’s eyes, it’s easy to determine who that is.

You take your place among your cousins, hands joining as the musicians begin their melody. It is a lighthearted dance, nothing too intricate, nothing that demands much more than the ability to move in time with the others. Your skirts flutter with each step, the long strands of your braid swaying as you turn.

It’s a girlish, lighthearted dance you’ve done since you were little. You and your younger cousins giggle as you go through the motions, reveling in the attentions of the spectators that witness the lovely display with amusement and pure, wholesome adoration.

That is, until you register a special set of eyes on you.

In a specific turn along to the strum of the lyre, you turn gracefully—a move that orients you towards Gojo’s direction. When you finally see his face and notice his presence, it’s like you’re kicked in the chest in a spar with Helen, with the way your breath leaves you.

His eyes are dark, enraptured on you, and only you. Heat creeps up your neck as you move your hands as you’re oddly flustered. His gaze is admiring and is respectful, but the intensity of it—like longing that is toeing the line between lust and pure yearning—makes your heart quicken in a way that you rue your accursed organ, for it to beat so traitorously. When he notices that you’re staring back at him, his jaw—which was clenched—loosens in a smile, but the smile isn’t innocent. It spells out a promise—one unspoken, one that curls at the edges of his lips like a secret meant for you alone. It is the kind of smile that men wear when they know something you don’t, when they have already decided on something long before you’ve even had the chance to argue.

It is sharp. Focused.

It traces the curve of your waist, the sway of your hips, the way your arms extend with each graceful movement.

It darkens.

Heat spreads up your neck before you can help it. The flickering torches of the hall must be to blame, or perhaps the wine in your belly, but you feel warm, too warm, and it is absurd.

Why should you care where Gojo of Ithaca’s eyes linger?

His smirk grows, and it is cocky. Infuriating, even. You snap your head away before he can see how your face burns, resuming your dance with the others, willing yourself to shake off the foolishness that has settled in your bones.

But even as you turn, even as the skirts of your dress flare and the room around you continues its celebration, you feel it—

His eyes.

Still watching.

“Athena, I swear to you that I need her. She is my future wife!” Gojo insists, stomping his feet as he trails the goddess as if he were a child. It reminded the goddess of wisdom of when she first met him—when he had taken down the magic boar she had let loose, showing him of having intellect worthy of being mentored by her. 

But Athena had meant to be a mentor to a warrior of the mind—not this lovesick, pathetic fool in front of her, like a dog whining for food. Athena sighed exasperatedly as another animal she was hunting runs away from Gojo’s sheer loudness. “Enough!” she snaps, but not unkindly. “Who is this princess you speak of, and what kind of spell has she cast on you to become this much of a fool?”

Gojo ignores any insults directed towards him, and instead adorns a bright smile at the mention of you. “She is the cousin of Helen of Sparta, and the daughter of Icarius—”

Gojo is interrupted by a snort. “The same one that swore to never marry his daughter off?”

This gives Gojo a reason to pause. He had not known this fact. “So, how do you propose I—”

Much to his chagrin, the w goddess is already a few steps ahead. “To waste my time on strategy to secure a woman, Gojo, is quite preposterous.

But if you must insist on my counsel, then you shall earn it," Athena declares, turning on her heel to face him fully. Her gaze, sharp as a well-honed blade, sweeps over him, as if assessing whether he is truly worth the effort. "Icarius is a man of reason before all else. He values intellect, discipline, and above all, loyalty. If you wish to stand a chance, you must prove to me two things: one, that she is a wise woman worth of being sought after, and, two, you must prove that you are not merely another suitor blinded by beauty."

Gojo grins, clearly pushing his luck. "So you will help me?"

Athena exhales, the very picture of divine suffering. "I will not gift you the answer, but I will grant you the means to find it yourself."

"Which is just a long-winded way of saying you will help me." He nods sagely, as if he has unraveled the mysteries of Olympus itself.

Athena rubs her temple. "I should have let the boar trample you."

Gojo only laughs, stepping in line beside her as they weave through the woods. His mind is already turning, piecing together what little he knows of Icarius, of you, and of what he must do to win. Because one thing is certain—he will win.

Icarius may have sworn never to wed you off, but Gojo Satoru has never been one to abide by the rules.

You do not want to be here.

All you simply wanted was time in your sanctuary, your olive tree. It remained hidden in the royal gardens, so it’s a wonder that Gojo of Ithaca had found you. Of course, you would have to be a fool to not admit that these suitors’ wit paled in comparison to that white-haired young king. Such as this one, for example.

“My lady, I could not help but notice your fair disposition when I looked upon you,” the suitor grins, his teeth bared like a dog catching scent of a meal. It is not a pleasant expression. You do not react, save for clutching your weaving tighter to your chest. He steps closer, and you take measured care not to recoil, though the instinct is strong. “May you grant me your name—”

“I would have to apologize,” you cut him, already turning away. “My father does not—”

You’re stopped by a harsh grip on your wrist, and you wrench your gaze back to the suitor in shock. 

"You wound me, my lady," the man says, still smiling as if this was amusing. As if he had power over you. Physical power, you suppose, but clearly this man was lacking in intellect, to not have noticed his presence. "You have been so cold to me, and I—"

He does not notice the shadow behind him.

“Ah,” a voice interjects, smooth, easy. “That’s no way to hold a lady’s hand, is it?”

The grip on your wrist slackens, but another takes its place—light, barely a touch.

Gojo.

The suitor’s face twists in confusion, but it quickly shifts to pain as Gojo applies the smallest pressure to his wrist.

“You—”

“She said no,” Gojo interrupts breezily. “And I’d hate to make a scene, so do us all a favor and leave before I decide to break something, yeah?”

With an effortless flick of his hand, the suitor stumbles back, shaking out his wrist as if burned.

Gojo does not spare him another glance. His attention is on you.

“Are you alright?” His voice is softer now, no teasing lilt, no easy arrogance.

You hesitate, unsettled.

“I was handling it,” you say, though it does not come out as firm as you would like.

Gojo only hums, something that sounds like, I know you could, but you’re distracted by his eyes drifting down to your wrist, where a faint mark has already begun to bloom.

His gaze darkens, but you hurry to assure him. “I’ll bandage this, it’s not a big wound—”

He interrupts you. “No need,” gently holds your shoulder, as if imploring you to follow him into the direction he’s started to walk, “I’ll do it myself.”

“That’s not—”

“Look.” He shoots you a look, but it is not unkind nor patronizing. You realize belatedly that it has set your heart aflutter. “I trust that you know how to bandage your wound. But I have had countless like it, so you are with a skilled master in healing. And who knows which suitors may find you on your journey to the physician?

You purse your lips, biting back a retort but failing. “And aren’t you one of the said suitors?”

His lips pull back in an amused smile, and you notice his hand is still resting lightly on your shoulder. “I think we both know I’m different.” You bite back a smile.

“Oh, really?” you remark dryly, but the look in your eyes is anything but. “And how did Your Majesty acquire the title of being different?”

His thumb brushes, just barely, against the fabric of your sleeve before he withdraws his hand entirely, as if sensing that he’s lingered too long. But his smirk remains, insufferable as ever.

“For one, I don’t make a habit of forcing myself upon unwilling women,” Gojo remarks, a pointed edge to his otherwise careless tone. “And for another…” He tilts his head, considering you. “I daresay I might be infatuated in a way they—or you—couldn’t comprehend.”

Your breath catches, but you recover quickly, huffing as you turn away. “All these sweet nothings. Helen will love you.”

Gojo chuckles, stepping ahead of you as he leads the way. “Yet she is not the one I am after.”

You pause. Soak in his words. Outwardly, you roll your eyes and follow him for you were at a lack of words, but inside Poseidon’s storm rages inside you at his words, creating a ferocious whirlpool of conflicting feelings.

His strides are long and easy, as if he belongs wherever he walks, and yet, he slows his pace just enough for you to keep up. The gesture is not lost on you.

The physician’s chamber is quiet when you arrive, save for the distant chatter of servants outside. Gojo does not call for assistance. He merely gestures for you to sit, pulling out a small cloth and a bowl of water, his movements easy and practiced.

“You’ve done this before,” you murmur as he kneels before you, pressing the damp cloth against your wrist.

His smile is unreadable. “I am a warrior, am I not?”

The cold seeps into your skin, making you shiver. Gojo notices. His touch, for all his bravado, is unbearably gentle. You do not know what to make of it.

“You’ll bruise,” he says softly, fingers skimming over the faint marks. “Does it hurt?”

You swallow. “No.”

A lie.

Gojo’s gaze flickers up to yours, and for the first time, there is no teasing in his expression—only something quiet and knowing, something that makes your heart betray you in its weakness.

For a moment, you both fall into a silence, and, to avoid his gaze, you go back to clutching at your hand and staring at it, as if there’s something really intriguing about it. Then, he speaks up. “Want to play?”

You bring your gaze back to him, caught off guard. “What?”

He cocks his head in a direction to which you face, and there you see it: a game board. One to play petteia. 

You turn back at him, blinking. “You play petteia?”

Gojo grins, stretching out with a lazy ease that only makes you more suspicious. As if he has ulterior motives to this. “What, surprised? Strategy games are a warrior’s pastime.”

You squint him. That line of reasoning was rather true, you suppose. Something told you—something being the way he convinced Helen’s father so easily, how he always seemed three, no, six steps ahead—that he was no normal warrior, no normal brute. Huffing, you remark offhandedly, “I suppose a true warrior does sharpen his mind as well as his sword. It’s a pity that you’ll be losing today. To me.”

His smile deepens, and it makes you notice small indents in his cheeks as a result, and the way there’s a rosy pink hue on his cheeks, as if he’s excited to see what you can do.  “Then by all means, put me to shame.”

You settle onto the floor, determined, as he arranges the pieces between you. The rules are simple enough—capture your opponent’s pieces by flanking them on either side—but the way Gojo moves is anything but. He plays with an insufferable sort of confidence, shifting his pieces with flicks of his fingers, as if the game is already his to win.

Until it isn’t, obviously.

He frowns when the click of stone dropped onto the board sounds. You’ve cut off his advancing soldier, trapping it neatly between two of your own.

“Huh,” he muses, tapping his chin. He stares at the board, mind no doubt going at a speed unfathomable to most. His eyes flick rapidly, as if assessing the position of all the stone and calculating all the possible moves and permutations that can salvage him out of the situation you’ve created for him. You maintain your poker face, but inside, you want to smile. You had calculated those said combinations a few steps ago, and it’d be really hard to get out of this. Then, comes out a “That was… unexpected.”

You smile sweetly. “What’s wrong? Did the great King of Ithaca not anticipate that?”

Gojo exhales, dragging a hand through his hair while huffing out a laught. “You’re quite ruthless, aren’t you?”

“I’m practical,” you correct, claiming another of his pieces. “And good at this game.”

Gojo squints at the board, as if trying to decipher where exactly he went wrong. “You do know you’re supposed to let me win, right? My pride is fragile.”

“I wasn’t aware kings had fragile pride.”

“You wound me, my lady.” He presses a hand to his chest, but his movements are distracted as he moves another piece—only for you to immediately trap it.

His head snaps up. “Wait—”

You make your final move, effortlessly cornering his last few soldiers.

Silence.

Gojo blinks at the board.

You clear your throat. “Do you need a moment to process this?”

Slowly, he leans back, shaking his head with something close to awe. “You know, I was planning to go easy on you, but I don’t think that would have helped.”

You grin, triumphant. “I’ll take that as an admission of defeat.”

Gojo exhales through his nose, then tilts his head at you, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes.

“You’re dangerous,” he says, and you’re not quite sure if it’s a compliment or a warning.

“Maybe to an overconfident king who underestimates his opponent.”

That urges out a laugh from him, and he shakes his head. “Trust me, I was not underestimating you. It seemed that I had overestimated myself.”

Before you can respond, Gojo leans forward, propping his chin on his hand as he watches you with something unsettlingly thoughtful.

You don’t trust that look.

“What?” you ask warily.

He hums. “Just thinking.”

“That’s a dangerous pastime for you.”

Gojo presses a hand over his chest, as if wounded. “Cruel. After I iced your wrist and let you absolutely demolish me at petteia, this is the thanks I get?”

“You act as if I owe you something.”

His smirk returns, slow and smug. “Well, since you mention it…”

You narrow your eyes. “No.”

“You didn’t even hear me out.”

“I know you well enough to predict whatever absurd request you’re about to make.”

Gojo lets out a dramatic sigh, tilting his head back. “And here I was, about to propose something completely reasonable. A fair exchange.”

You arch a brow. “Fair?”

He nods, all feigned seriousness. “See, I let you win.”

“You most certainly did not.”

“And I helped with your wrist.”

Your lips press into a line. “Which you did of your own volition.”

Gojo ignores this. “So, as a completely justified request, I think you should let me meet you in the royal gardens.”

You blink. His words hang in the air between you, a casual proposition that somehow carries more weight than it should.

“The gardens?”

He nods. “By the olive tree at sunset. The one where we met.”

“Why?”

Groaning, he lounges back, pushing his feet out while doing the motion. It makes his long legs come closer to where yours are opposite from him, so much that you can feel their heat. Not direct contact, but there. “Have I not made my advances clear by now?” He moves to a sitting position, a more serious look in his eyes as he earnestly looks at you, but you find it hard—despite your usual dry disposition towards suitors—to maintain eye contact, so you opt to look at your hands instead as his next words strike blows to your treacherous heart.

 “Your Highness, I am here for you. You are far wittier than me—I have things to learn from you. You have bewitched me, for I did not know it was possible for a lady to consume my every waking thoughts in such a violent way as you have. You may think me a stranger, and you may think me one of the many foolish suitors here for Miss Helen’s hand, but I will make you fall in love with me. I will show you that despite my pride, I will be a kind and gentle husband.” He exhales, as if steadying himself, but his eyes remain fixed on you. There is no jest in them, no trace of the arrogance he so often wears like armor. Only something raw.

“And I will absolutely not leave this city until you come back to me in my kingdom as the Queen of Ithaca. It may require god-like skill to convince your father to marry me—but I am nothing if not persistent.”

Before you can even begin to form a response—before you can push past the breath lodged in your throat, the furious pounding in your chest—there’s a voice.

"There you are!"

Helen.

You turn just as she strides toward you, golden as ever, a vision of effortless beauty. She doesn’t seem to have heard a word of what was just spoken, too preoccupied with her own delight at having found you.

"I’ve been looking everywhere," she sighs, linking her arm through yours before glancing at Gojo, who, for once, remains uncharacteristically silent. Her eyes flick between the two of you, and then she hums. "I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything?"

Gojo recovers faster than you do. "Not at all, Your Highness," he says smoothly, a practiced smile slipping into place. "I was simply getting to know your cousin better."

Helen gives him a flirtatious smile, but nevertheless turns to you, frowning. “And why are you at the physician’s?”

You feel Gojo’s eyes follow your movements as you shake your head and rise, walking towards Helen. “An unruly suitor. It was a light bruise, it is not a great matter–”

“A bruise?!”

“Come with me,” you hissed, waving her along so she did not question further. It seemed that the room was very warm, for you felt a heat creep up your neck the longer Gojo’s eyes unequivocally stayed on you. 

Helen blinked, at a loss for words, no doubt pondering why you both were leaving Gojo’s presence so readily. “But His Majesty—”

“Cousin,” you snapped, “did you not have a reason to be looking for me?”

Helen blinks, momentarily distracted. Then, as if something suddenly occurs to her, she brightens.

“Oh! Yes, Father wanted to see you.”

You exhale, relieved—only for it to be short-lived, because she doesn’t move.

She remains rooted in place, glancing back at Gojo with a look that is far too amused for your liking. The flirtatious smile returns, softer now, more intrigued.

“But surely,” she muses, tilting her head, “you wouldn’t mind if I stayed a moment longer? It’s not often one meets a man as charming as His Majesty of Ithaca.”

You narrow your eyes. “Helen.”

“What?” she says, all innocence. “We’re simply talking.”

You glance at Gojo, expecting him to look insufferably pleased, but instead, he’s watching you. Not Helen. You tear your gaze away.

It’s only once the two of you are walking through the halls, out of earshot, that Helen sighs, linking your arms again.

“He’s quite something, isn’t he?” she murmurs.

You keep your eyes ahead. “Perhaps. A bit arrogant, though.”

“He’s clever,” she corrects, then gives you a knowing look. “And you like him.”

You scoff, though the heat on your skin betrays you. “I do not.”

Helen only laughs, shaking her head. “Dearest cousin,” she sighs, “I have seen you endure the most persistent suitors with all the warmth of an ice-cold river. And yet, here you are, playing petteia with him, letting him tend to your wounds.”

You do not have an answer to that.

And Helen does not press further. She only smiles wistfully to herself, as if she already knows how this story will end.

…

The halls are silent at this hour, save for the whisper of your steps against the cool stone. You keep to the shadows, careful, quiet. If anyone were to see you like this—wrapped in a cloak, a weaver in hand, slipping through the corridors like a thief in the night—there would be whispers by morning.

But then again, what whispers have ever concerned you?

The thought does not comfort you as much as it should.

Your grip tightens around the weaver, its familiar weight grounding. You brought it with you on the off chance that Gojo, like most men, proves unreliable. You have no reason to believe he will come; his feelings for you could be temporary lust, a second option in case his primary one—Helen—fails. No reason to have entertained his invitation at all. And yet, you go.

You cannot say why.

A foolish impulse, perhaps. Or simple curiosity. Or maybe—

You push the thought away, focusing instead on the memory that surfaces unbidden.

A conversation with your father, just today while you dined.

You had spoken of Helen’s upcoming wedding of the foreign princes and warriors who sought her hand, of the future that awaited her.

Your father had frowned, the lines of his face deepening. “It is dangerous,” he had said, quiet but firm. “To entrust my daughter to a man who cannot ensure her well-being.”

You had smiled then, easy and unbothered, as if his words did not touch something in you. “It is not you he must convince.”

He had looked at you for a long moment, something unreadable in his gaze, but ended up remarking offhandedly, as if reminding you. “I do not want you to go far from me.”

And you, still smiling, had said nothing at all.

Now, in the solitude of the night, you are no longer smiling.

You know your father’s concern is not unfounded. It is not simply Helen’s future that weighs on him—it is yours.

But it is a strange thing, the way his words linger, how they press against you, heavy and quiet. Not as a warning. Not as a burden. But as something else. Something you cannot yet name.

You reach the courtyard, the olive tree standing tall against the night sky behind a series of trees. You exhale, slow and steady, before walking to reach it, weaver in hand.

If he comes, he comes.

And if not—

Well. You were never the kind to wait idly for a man.

But before you could go on your endless mental tirade of how despicable the male species were, you heard a voice. Gojo’s voice in particular.

Walking closer and closer—to where your olive tree was but not where you were visible, trees providing coverage—you noticed him talking to someone in a hushed, yet excited tone. You use the window of sight allowed by the gap between the trees’ leaves to see him, standing with an owl on his forearm. It’s turned to him, as if paying attention, although exasperatedly, to him while he stands tall as ever, his foot tapping impatiently against the grass.

You hesitate, watching as the owl blinks at him, as if listening, considering his words.

And then it notices you. Its, well, owlish eyes are wide as they lock in on your figure.

With a quiet rustle of feathers, it takes flight, disappearing into the night.

Gojo turns, following its path before his gaze lands on you.

“You scared my friend away,” he says, as if this is the most natural thing in the world.

You blink at him. “You were talking to an owl.”

He shrugs, as if this too is perfectly reasonable. “She’s a good listener. A little judgmental, though.”

You give him a look, unimpressed. “I see you’ve finally found an audience that suits you.”

His lips curve into a slow smile. “And yet, here you are.”

You huff, settling onto one of the smooth stones beneath the tree. “I didn’t come for your company.” You hold up the weaver in your hands, as if that alone is proof of your intentions. “I came to pass the time.”

“Ah,” he drawls, stepping closer, hands slipping into the folds of his cloak. “And yet, you’re talking to me instead.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but he only grins, triumphant.

“Tell me,” he muses, dropping down beside you. “Were you hoping—or predicting, with that fast mind of yours—I wouldn’t come?”

You don’t answer right away, fingers idly threading the weaver. The night air is cool, the scent of olives and earth thick around you.

“Would it have mattered?” you ask at last, voice light, careless.

Gojo watches you, and for a moment, he does not answer either.

Then, quietly, as if confessing something neither of you are ready to name, he says, “Yes.”

You inhale slowly, fingers stilling on the weaver as his answer settles between you.

Yes.

It wasn’t spoken in jest, nor with the easy arrogance he so often wielded. Instead, it was quieter, more certain—like an unshakable truth, unburdened by expectation.

You don’t know what to make of it.

You cast him a glance from the corner of your eye. He’s sitting close but not too close, his long legs stretched out before him, arms resting lazily over his knees. His usual grin is absent, replaced by something unreadable, something you cannot name.

The weight of his gaze is different now. Not teasing, not searching for amusement—but waiting.

You look away first.

Your fingers resume their slow, practiced work, weaving delicate patterns into the fabric, though your thoughts are anything but orderly.

“Why are you here?” you ask, voice softer than you intend.

A beat passes before he answers.

“Because you are.”

You swallow.

He leans back onto his hands, tilting his head toward the night sky, moonlight catching in the pale strands of his hair. It makes him look otherworldly, like a figure carved from myth—too beautiful, too untouchable.

“I’m not Helen,” you say after a moment, unsure why the words leave your lips. “You have nothing to gain from this.”

Gojo exhales, a quiet sound, but when he looks at you again, there is something almost amused in his expression—touched with something softer, something more patient.

“Do you think I speak to owls for political gain?”

You huff, trying to ignore the warmth threatening to creep up your neck. “I think you do most things for your own amusement.”

He hums, as if considering that. “You wound me.”

“I doubt that,” you mutter, eyes fixed on your work.

And yet—his fingers twitch where they rest against the stone. It’s small, barely noticeable, but your eyes catch it, and you wonder.

Does he want to reach for you?

The thought unsettles you more than it should.

He exhales again, then shifts, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees, expression thoughtful. “You know,” he muses, “I had a whole speech planned.”

You raise a brow. “Oh?”

“Something about how I was drawn to you the way sailors are drawn to sirens. That you, unlike any other, have made me question things I thought I knew.” He looks down at his knees, lips pulling in a mischievous smile. “But with you, I doubt a night of spilling sweet nothings or perhaps…other things would have swayed you.”

Your fingers still.

“But I think I’ve changed my mind,” he continues, tilting his head. “I think I’d rather just talk to you.”

You stare at him, caught somewhere between wariness and something dangerously close to wonder.

And then, before you can stop yourself, you ask, “What would you have said next?”

His lips twitch, and for the first time tonight, there is mischief in his gaze again. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You roll your eyes, but the moment has shifted, lighter now, though something unnamed still lingers beneath it.

“Keep your secrets, then,” you mutter, returning to your weaving.

“You wound me,” Gojo says again, pressing a hand to his chest as if truly affronted. “Here I am, spilling my heart, and you deny me even a scrap of sentiment.”

You let out a quiet scoff, keeping your focus on your weaving. “Perhaps if your words weren’t so dramatic, I’d be inclined to believe them.”

Gojo gasps. “Dramatic?” He leans closer, an almost boyish grin tugging at his lips. “My lady, I am nothing if not a man of sincerity.”

“Oh? So that speech about sirens wasn’t an embellishment?”

“Not at all.” He sighs, as if suffering under some great burden. “I wake in the morning thinking of you, I lay my head at night wondering if you’ve thought of me at all. It’s agony, truly.”

You roll your eyes, but your lips betray you, twitching into something dangerously close to a smile. “That sounds more like a malady than love.”

“Ah, but love is a sickness, is it not?” He exhales dramatically. “And you, my lady, have made a very ill man of me.”

Despite yourself, a laugh escapes—light, unguarded, like something slipping past your defenses before you can catch it.

And then—silence.

You glance at him, and find him already watching you.

His usual mischief is gone, replaced by something softer, something wholly unprepared. His breath is caught somewhere between his ribs, his lips slightly parted as if the sight of your laughter has stolen the air from him.

And then—

A blush, unmistakable even in the moonlight.

Your heart stutters.

Oh.

For the first time, you allow yourself to study him properly. The sharp angles of his jaw, the elegant bridge of his nose, the vivid eyes that hold yours so intently.

He is very handsome.

The thought settles somewhere unexpected, like an admission you’ve been avoiding.

Before you can dwell on it, something light catches against your shoulder—a drifting leaf, caught in the folds of your garment.

Gojo moves before you can react.

His fingers brush against the fabric near your collarbone, and then linger, featherlight and warm, as he pulls the leaf free. The moment stretches—longer than it should, charged with something unspeakable.

You feel his breath before you see him move, close enough now that the space between you is barely a whisper.

His hand, now free of its task, hesitates—before it trails downward, catching yours in his grasp.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to fill the moment with jest. His thumb traces the back of your hand, slow and absentminded, as if memorizing the shape of you.

Your own breath falters.

His breath is warm in the cool night air, his proximity setting something taut beneath your ribs. You are no stranger to flirtation, nor to men who think they can win you with pretty words, but Gojo—Gojo is different.

Perhaps it’s the way he looks at you now, his usual mischief tempered by something quieter. Or perhaps it’s the fact that, despite his arrogance, despite his clever tongue and tireless persistence, he does not presume to take.

He waits.

A dangerous thing, because it gives you time to notice the way his fingers twitch slightly against the fabric of your sleeve, the way his lips part as if tasting the words before speaking them.

“You’re staring,” he murmurs, tilting his head.

You arch a brow, feigning indifference despite the heat pooling low in your stomach. “Am I?”

His lips curve. “Should I be flattered?”

You hum, as if considering it. “I’m only making observations.”

“Oh?” He steps just a fraction closer, his voice dipping. “And what have you observed, my lady?”

“That you blush quite easily,” you say smoothly, pleased when the faint flush creeps further up his neck. “That despite your grand declarations, you are, in fact, a little shy.”

Gojo lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Shy? My lady, you wound me.”

“Do I?” You tilt your chin up slightly, your voice softer now, your hand still in his.

His gaze flickers to your lips.

Your breath catches, just for a moment.

And then—

His hand moves, fingers brushing along the curve of your jaw before settling at the nape of your neck, his touch deliberate, careful. A question, waiting for an answer.

You don’t grant him words—only the tilt of your head, the briefest lean forward.

It is all the invitation he needs.

He kisses you like a secret, like something to be savored—slow at first, testing, before he grows bolder. His other hand finds your waist, pulling you just a little closer, and warmth floods through you, seeping into your bones.

The world is silent save for the soft hitch of breath, the faint rustle of fabric as he deepens the kiss, as you allow yourself to press into him, fingers curling into the front of his tunic.

For a man who never stops talking, he is utterly wordless now. 

When you wake up next in the morning, it is grumpy and tired. Not only were you up late into the night, talking to and…kissing Gojo of Ithaca, or rather, Satoru (while you were drunk on each other, he had convinced you to call him Satoru), but the sound of Helen’s squealing made your head ring, putting an unbearable pressure onto them.

“Helen!” you scold her, throwing a spare pillow at her. She easily dodges while you sit up in the bed, half-heartedly rubbing your eyes to wipe the sleep from them. As she throws herself onto the foot of the bed, you notice and hear the pitter patter of rain, casting a somber gray light in your bedroom that is occasionally interrupted by Zeus’s thunder, as if the god was angered or sharing a premonition. 

Shaking off the thought, you scowl at your cousin, who’s excitedly prattling about things you still have yet to comprehend. “Slow down! Tell me, without spewing all your words at once.”

“Father gave me permission to marry!” she squealed, jumping on you and hugging you closely. She seemed happy, and you loved your cousin very much, even if you did not show it much. Pure affection permeates your countenance, as she continues. “You know I’ve always wanted to marry him, with his big arms and all. He could totally manhandle me, but you knoooww I love the ones that can whimper—”

“Oh my god,” you groan, covering your ears as if scandalized (you’ve said much worse to her), but you grin regardless. “Who is the man that you have chosen?”

“Well,” she laughs, flipping her hair off her shoulder, “Gojo of Ithaca is to be my husband, of course.”

Your heart drops to your stomach.

What she says next seems to blur together, not registering because you are shocked, your world almost tilted.

Gojo of Ithaca is to be my husband, of course.

It is then you realize belatedly that Helen seems to be calling out to you, and what you notice the most out of anything on her face is the soft smile she has on her face. One that shows that she is fond of Satoru Gojo, that she has affection for him. And who are you—the girl whose father doesn’t wish for her to marry, one that isn’t to be promised—take that away from Helen, from him?

Gojo has made it clear that he is not here for Helen—but wouldn’t it be better for him and his kingdom (which you discovered last night that he cares so dearly for) for him to marry Helen? A beautiful queen and a wise king. 

What a match.

You swallow, throat suddenly dry, but you manage a smile—strained, weak, but a smile nonetheless.

“Helen,” you begin, voice steady despite the storm brewing inside you, “are you certain?”

“Of course!” she beams, oblivious to the way your fingers tighten in the fabric of your bedding. “Father said Gojo has yet to ask officially, but he will, I know it. And why wouldn’t he? A match like this—it’s fate.”

Fate.

What cruel irony.

You remember last night—Gojo’s hands warm against your skin, his laughter pressed against your lips, the way he had murmured your name like a vow.

And yet—

You look at Helen, golden and radiant even in the gray morning light, her eyes alight with genuine happiness. You love her, truly, and have since childhood. She has always had her pick of men, but there was something softer in the way she spoke of Satoru just now.

The soft smile, the dreamy lilt to her voice.

She wants this.

And what of you?

Your chest aches, but you laugh, the sound lighter than it should be. “You sound quite taken with him.”

“I am,” she beams, watching you. “He’s gorgeous! Charming, too. He told me last night that he thinks my eyes are like the sea at sunrise.”

Your stomach twists and it seems that the panic overwhelms you because all you can manage to do is swallow and nod. “Well,” you look at her with a tight smile, “I congratulate you. Let us discuss this matter further over breakfast.” She smiles and squeezes your upper arm in a goodbye, and the touch of it burns.

You don’t ever make it to breakfast that day.

It continues raining that day, and it’s quite appropriate for how you’re feeling. The feeling of melancholy permeates the air around you as you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Usually, you occupy your time by reading or, more likely, weaving, but you couldn’t muster the energy to find interest in that either.

Over a man. What a shame.

You were not one to lie idle—you were constantly praised as a princess wise beyond her years, and it would be wise, in this situation, to move on. Because the man you had grown feelings for is now engaged to your cousin, or, at least, your cousin intends to be engaged with him. And it would be wiser to let it happen, for Helen’s happiness was your happiness.

Sighing, you stuff your face into your pillow and groan, muffled by the linen fabric of your seats. You then decide grudgingly that if you’re not going to leave your room at all, it may be best to shed yourself of your clothing and lay comfortably in your loincloth and mamillare.

But right as you put your hand on your clothing to strip yourself, you hear a noise. 

The sound comes again—a sharp, rhythmic tap-tap-tap, just barely audible over the rain. You freeze, fingers still curled around the fabric of your chiton, half-peeled from your shoulder. At first, you think it might be a stray branch scraping against the stone, wind-tossed by the storm. But then it happens again—more deliberate this time, insistent.

Then, looking at the new objects strewn across your balcony, you realize it’s not branches—it’s pebbles.

You scowl, tying your garments hastily before moving toward the balcony. The rain is gentler now, more mist than storm, clinging to the stone and silvering the world beyond. You grip the railing and peer down—

And there he is.

Satoru.

Drenched from head to toe, hair plastered to his forehead, a frown curving his lips as he concentrates on where he’s going to throw his pebble next. His stance seems urgent, but you’re so caught up on the fact that he’s here, as if he isn’t supposed to be engaged to Helen or be subjected to whatever congratulatory round of alcohol men bestowed upon each other after securing the most beautiful woman alive.

Your heart stutters.

You pull back immediately, breath catching in your throat. You shouldn’t have come to the balcony. You shouldn’t be looking at him, shouldn’t be thinking about this morning when Helen’s voice still lingers in your ears—Gojo of Ithaca is to be my husband, of course.

The pebble strikes the stone beside you.

“I know you’re up there,” Gojo calls, tone indecipherable. “Are you really going to ignore me? After all we’ve been through?”

You swallow and your voice trembles when you say, “Go away.”

His resulting laughter sounds betrayed, hurt. “You don’t mean that.”

“Satoru,” and you don’t know if it’s a plea or a warning. His head tilts, an anguished look on his face as he closes his eyes and sighs.

“You wound me,” he huffs out a pained laugh, “After all, I run the risk of sickness just to see you and tell you that you believe wrong.”

Something is created in you, then. Something dangerous like hope. “What?”

But instead of answering, Gojo crouches, then, in one smooth motion, leaps up, catching the edge of the balcony with ease. You barely have time to react before he’s pulling himself over the railing, stepping onto solid ground with practiced grace.

You stumble back, eyes wide. “I told you not to come up.”

“And when have I ever listened?”

There’s something in the way he looks at you then—an intensity you aren’t prepared for. The air between you is charged, thick with something unspoken, something far too dangerous to name.

He takes a step forward. “I thought you were smarter than this.”

You blink, startled. “Excuse me?”

Gojo exhales, running a hand through his damp hair. “Why would you ever think it would be Helen?”

Your stomach lurches. “She said—”

“She assumed,” he corrects, cutting you off. “But I did not accept her. And you let her do that.” His voice drops lower, softer, a stark contrast to the teasing lilt he so often wields. “Do you truly think so little of me?”

You don’t answer. You can’t. Because if you do, it will come spilling out—the hope you tried to bury, the ache that settled in your chest the moment Helen uttered those words.

He moves closer, and you don’t stop him.

“Princess,” you can see his ivory lashes with how close he is, his face covered in raindrops, “for how wise you are, you seem to not have caught on. What animal is the emblem of Athena?”

Blinking, you’re taken aback by the sudden quizzing. “Owl, what about it—”

Oh.

He sees the realization dawn over your face, and now his tense expression melts into a bittersweet smile. “The goddess of wisdom has been my companion ever since I was a child, helping me attain whatever I needed the most. Whether it be to gain the knowledge one must have to be worthy of being king, or,” he inhales sharply, vibrant eyes scanning over your face vulnerably, “to gain the power to be able to make the wisest, wittiest, funniest, and most beautiful girl I’ve ever known my queen.

“After all, I have my wit—add a little of godlike power, and even I could defeat your father. Respectfully,” he adds quickly. He looks anxious you realize, as if he is about to make a risky move, a big ask. Something he’s been anxious to ask, but scared to. His eyes are still scanning you and his hands twitch at his side as he says, “I hesitate to make this decision, to ask you still after knowing the true nature of my desire for you—”

“Ask me what?”

His eyes are fixed on you, and you think that both of your hearts are beating very, very fast at the moment. “What do you think, princess?”

The silence that falls is loaded, heavy, and laden with hesitation. It’s as if a vice has caged its way through your heart, squeezing and squeezing until all the things you’ve left unsaid threaten to spill out. Things like I don’t want you to marry my cousin. Or yet, even worse, I want you to marry me. “I would not want to throw out my guesses, Satoru,” you instead opt to say, voice soft. “Things like this must be said directly, to not leave any confusion or misunderstandings.”

His jaw tightens, his breath coming harder as he stares at you, something raw and dangerous flickering in his eyes. “I agree. These things should never be left unsaid.” His voice is low, almost seething, but not with anger—no, this is something else entirely, something desperate. “I love you.” The words are unshakable, like a vow. “And I refuse to sit here and pretend my thoughts of you are anything less than ruinous. I dream of you in ways no other man is allowed to, ways that would send me to Hades with a smile on my lips. You have bewitched my soul, stolen the breath from my body, and most dangerously—you have claimed my mind.” His voice drops, softer now, but no less intense. “I do not know how to make you believe me, only that I would sooner challenge the gods themselves than let you slip through my fingers. The world could promise me tens of Helen, but there is only one woman I would ever choose.” His hand finds yours, fingers tightening, as his next words fall like an oath.

“You.”

Your breath stutters, throat tightening as his fingers tighten over yours. His touch is searing, as if the gods themselves have set him aflame, and yet you cannot pull away—you do not want to pull away.

“Satoru—” His name slips from your lips like a prayer, and he swears under his breath, his free hand coming up to cradle your jaw, thumb pressing just below your lips, as if he is fighting the urge to kiss you.

“I would tear down Olympus itself if it meant keeping you,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your cheek. “I would make war with the gods, call upon Athena to guide my spear, and spill the blood of any man foolish enough to think they could take you from me.” His voice is rough, almost a growl, and you swear your knees would give way if not for the way he holds you now, as though letting go would be his ruin.

It is reckless, to let yourself lean into him, to let your fingers curl into the fabric of his damp chiton as though you could anchor yourself to him. But he is an anchor—pulling you into something deep, something dangerous, something you know you will not escape from unscathed.

His nose brushes yours, his lips so close that you feel his every breath, his every hesitation. But you see the war in his eyes, the battle between restraint and desire, and for once, you decide to let yourself be selfish.

So you whisper, “Then prove it.”

And that is all it  takes for him to break.

His lips crash against yours, urgent and claiming, as if to kiss you any softer would be to deny himself the air he breathes. He groans as your hands tangle in his hair, your body pressing flush against his, his own hands no longer gentle but gripping, desperate, possessive. His teeth graze your bottom lip before he deepens the kiss, one hand trailing lower, pressing against the curve of your waist, then lower still—

Thunder crackles, as you gasp out his name. He pulls you both apart, looking anguished as if he’s fighting the urge to keep touching you, to make you moan out his name. Realizing this, you grab his hands and put them on yourself. “My love,” you say, tenderly, and you see how his pupils dilate in response, “you may touch me—”

“Are you sure? For if you say that, I may not be able to stop myself from indulging. Because I will take and take, until you can give me no more.” The way he says it, uncharacteristically serious and brows furrowed, makes you heat up even more, dizzy with lust and your pent up longing for the man.

But your response stays the same, paired with a firm nod. “I am sur—mmmph.”

He smothers you with his lips before you can finish, cupping your jaw until his hands start to move downwards. They move, tracing the planes of your body, and they are relentless in their exploration—they grab you possessively, pushing you closer and closer to him until his hands are below your thighs. Satoru maneuvers you until your legs are straddling his waist so that he can pick you up and carry you to your bed.

After he throws you down like carrying you poses to him as much of a challenge as carrying a light potato sack, he admires you—-thighs clenched, hair splayed around your head like a halo. The skirt of your clothes has inched its way up, exposing your thighs. “Gods, you don’t know what you do to me.”

But instead of playing the innocent maiden, you look at him through your lashes, laughing. “Satoru, time is of the essence. Flattery will get you nowhere—you must show it through your actions.”

You didn’t know what saying his name—and prompting him like that—does to him. He meets your lips in a furious kiss once again, this time hand sneaking up your skirt. He meets the fabric of your loincloth, hooking at its sides and pulling them downwards and downwards, until it is hooked off your ankle (not before Satoru leaves it a trailing kiss there, of course. It is only until Satoru’s eyes hone in what’s in the middle of legs that you realize that you are bare to him. “Satoru, I—”

“I must do something,” he instead responds, and you look at him in confusion. He’s moving down your body as you ask him what he means and if something’s wrong.

You’re interrupted by your gasp as his mouth descends on you, leaving hot, openmouthed kisses directly on your core. His tongue delves inside your lower lips, pleasing the nerves and leaving them singing. He undoes you, leaving your legs feeling like jelly, and the fervor he does it with is nauseating—as if your nectar is ambrosia itself. 

Soon enough, with his reverent worship—and a finger or two added to stretch you out and make you emit embarrassing noises that only encourage him further—you come with a cry of his name. As you roll your hips, riding out your climax, his mouth and head follow and trail your hips, unrelenting in pleasuring you even though you’re overstimulated and left quivering. 

“I—” you blurted, trying to fill the silence after he had just made you taste colors. “I hate you.”

Satoru faux pouts, biting back a grin. “Rude thing to say when I just made you—”

“Don’t finish that!” you shriek, swatting his head lightly as he laughs, kissing his way back up your body. In a tone more shy than you’d like, you say in a small voice, “But I hope we’re not done yet?”

Satoru’s made his way up to your clothed breasts, kissing them tenderly. However, when he hears the question, he stills, looks at you with wide eyes, and he groans, as if surprised by your forwardness. “Princess, the things you do to me.”

He kneads your ass while he stands up, orienting himself into a position to do—that. A voice in the back of your head reminds you that you’re not supposed to be doing this before you get married, but your lust is too strong. And, after all, you trust that there’s no way Satoru wouldn’t marry you.

You feel a slight pressure in your nether regions, and you realize that it is Satoru’s cock. His eyes are on you, blown out with lust, as he continues to stroke the length of it while observing your every reaction. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes.”

With your confirmation, his eyes next left your face as he pushed in, moving slowly and gently. He gauged your features for any signs of discomfort or pain as he moved in shallow thrusts, gradually increasing their length. You gasped, his murmurs and sweet nothings coaxing out your whimpers and whines as he bumped a spot inside of you. As he did, fireworks erupted in the back of your mind, leaving you boneless as he got you closer and closer to your climax once again.

For someone who didn’t experience carnal desires often, you wonder how you’ve gone without this kind of pleasure for so long. Satoru made you feel worshipped, tracing kisses with a love that was almost pious. It doesn’t take you long after that to come once more, thrashing in his grip.

Your climax sheathed on his cock unlocks something in him, for he begins to thrust harder and faster, becoming sloppier and sloppier. His voice is by your ear, whining your name continuously. When he finally feels himself climb over and finally orgasm, he breathes out an “Ah,” and thrusts himself to completely bottom out while his come fills you up, pooling inside of you.

You both stay interlocked for gods know how long. Until Satoru pipes up, voice still unstable and panting, “By the way, it went unsaid, but I’m going to marry you. And you can’t say no.”

Your resulting giggle makes him break out in a big smile before he hugs you, wrestling you both to lie side by side in bed.

It goes without saying, but it all goes smoothly according to plan.

When Satoru had played with petteia with you, he had aimed to show Athena your wit. It is no small claim to defeat him, a king associated with Athena, in the game. The following events further made Athena approve of you and give her blessing. 

So Gojo was already ten steps ahead when he asked your father for your blessing. Your father was furious, of course—he did not want to let you go. After much cajoling and agreement to beat your father, a champion runner, in a race to attain your hand, Satoru wiped his brow. The way your father loved you would be scary to him if he didn’t love you as intensely as he did now. 

And of course Satoru won. Athena got her fellow Olympian, Hermes, to rent out his infamous speed. When he wins, Sparta is in an uproar, including your cousin.

“So, how is he?” Helen asks mischievously. You later found out that day that Helen’s words of marrying Gojo had a purpose—to push you both towards each other, once and for all. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you turn away, with a hmph. Crossing your arms, you pretend to roll your eyes at the knowing look she had.

“I don’t know, cousin,” she giggles, “I heard a couple of voices in your room when I tried to visit you a few nights back. Tell me, does he whimper—-”

“Helen!” 

The day you marry, donning beautiful and regal clothes, Gojo sneaks you away multiple times to kiss you under your veil when no one is looking.

His wedding gift is built by him—on the voyage back to Ithaca, he not only takes you away from Sparta, but the olive tree that you both had met at. He builds the shared marital bed out of the olive tree for his queen with his blood and sweat. It is a symbol of your love, everlasting, and you would daresay that it is the most precious gift anyone has ever given you.

What you give him in return is one fat and giggly baby. Your father grumbles that the child looks too much like his father, but the way he holds the babe—so carefully, so gently—betrays his affection. Helen coos at her little nephew, amused at how utterly soft Satoru has become, how the once-cocky king now spends his days doting on both you and your child, as if he has won the world itself.

And perhaps he has.

After all, Satoru has always been a man of ambition. A man who would scheme, fight, and even defy the gods for what he desires. And yet, as he holds your child in one arm and you in the other, murmuring teasing words against your ear before stealing another kiss, you realize something—

He had never needed Athena’s wisdom, Hermes’ speed, or any other divine favor to win you.

Because you had already been his, just as he had always been yours.

general masterlist

a/n thank u to my very supportive bestie @purplegemadventures i love all ur ideas ml <3 anyways like always all my beta readers are the goats thank you for reading my incomprehensible ideas. it's 5am and there's a mosquito that's hovering near me and im not totally happy w how this turned out but it was fun writing it kjenkjne. i may write more greek mythology aus but i need to lock in on my series....

ppl who asked to be tagged: @heh123321 @melotter

thank you for reading! reblog and comment to let me know ur thots <3

‧✧̣̇‧ Gym Bunny Masterlist

‧✧̣̇‧ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

‧✧̣̇‧ Genre: muscle pig!Jungkook, strangers to lovers au, fluff, angst, college au, very enthusiastic kook, shy chubby reader, self hatred to self love au.

‧✧̣̇‧ Warnings: Toxic friends, reader learns to love herself, cuss words, accidental boners, some mean comments about reader from her friends and Kooks bestie who hates YN.

‧✧̣̇‧ Summary: After being tired of feeling insecure you decided to take your friends advice and hit the gym. The only problem is you don’t know what to do, but luckily the very muscular and scary guy next to you offered to teach you a couple things. He just also happens to be the sweetest man you’ve ever met and not scary at all. You catch yourself falling in love with him on your journey of self love, but old insecurities stop you from doing anything about it.

Teaser ʚïɞ

Chapter 01 ʚïɞ

Chapter 02 ʚïɞ

Chapter 03 ʚïɞ

Chapter 04 ʚïɞ

Chapter 05 ʚïɞ

╔══════════════╗

A Burning Hill, Chapter 2

╚══════════════╝

CHAPTER 1

characters: levi ackerman x fem!reader

warnings: spoilers for season 1-2 of attack on titan, a looot of angst, swearing, slow burn, soft levi, fighting, major character deaths

a/n: okay so i was supposed to have this up during the weekend but my mental health has been so bad that i couldn't get it done on time. nevertheless i hope you guys enjoy this chapter and thank your for the feedback on chapter 1, i appreciate you guys so much and hope you enjoy this part just as much♡

845 AD

it would only keep getting worse. even when the government felt that citizens of paradis were safe from the titans with the protection of the walls, everything fell apart in a single fateful evening.

an abnormal, beyond the south gate of shiganshina district. it was different this time. the titan looming over the wall had a unique and threatening appearance. it was colossal, its height helping it reach over the wall and gaze upon the terrified eyes of wall maria residents.

and then chaos erupted.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"why am i always stuck on training duties?"

"as you know, instructor martens passed away on our latest expendition. you will train the newcomers just for this week and then you'll return to your duties of being co-captain to the levi-y/l/n squad" goddamn it erwin. goddamn it. it wasn't that she hated the idea of training the newbies, she had done it before. it was that she would be missing the expendition taking place in shiganshina, that she helped plan

"what about this week's expendition? i am the one who planned it"

"levi, hange and i have you covered. he agreed to lead your team by himself, much to his dismay. however i can't imagine anyone better than to train our new soldiers, i promise its an one time thing" erwin suggested and she huffed, falling back in her seat. if it was just for one week then so be it. to be put quite simply, she couldn't say no to erwin and being informed that her absence would be covered was an okay reason for her to worry less about. besides the scouts have been lacking manpower lately and she would feel at ease if she knew that she could contribute on shaping erwin's vision. just what was his vision again?

"you're not too bad at training" an all too familiar voice reverberated through erwin's office. y/n didn't even have to turn her head back to confirm levi's precense as a soft laugh escaped her lips.

"yeah obviously. the training grounds are on the south, that means i'll probably have to leave in a bit so i can arrive early. where is hange? at least we can all have dinner together before i go, right?"

"let's head to the dining area, hange is probably waiting for us with moblit and miche" erwin nodded as he got up and walked past levi and y/n, leaving them behind his trail.

"you'll come back to me in one piece"

"is that an order?"

"yes"

"we're equals now, i don't take orders from you brat" he teased "i had no other plans anyways, who are you going to make tea to when im gone?"

"probably hange and erwin"

"that tea is only for me, i'm gonna haunt your ass" and if it wasn't more obvious that these two had a more profound bond then erwin didn't know. sometimes he swore he could cut the tension with the knife and for the first time he lost a bet to hange. at first he didn't believe that levi and y/n would be getting this close even when the two would be caught staring at each other from across the room.

it was a mutual understanding to everyone that levi and y/n were more than just co-captains.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"eren, you really want to be a scout member, don't you?" y/n spoke softly, crouching down next to the green eyed brunette. she could tell the boy was disappointed that he couldn't use his odm gear correctly, as every time he tried to stabilize himself he'd just turn, feet looking up in the air and head hitting the ground with a thud every time.

"i want to destroy every single titan, captain. i want to kill them all" yeah you're not the only one, she thought. just then it hit her that many of those kids in front of her were present to that fateful day. most of them had lost their family and friends during the incident and she could tell from the determination in their eyes that they would go far.

"i trust you eren" she got up and walked over a beautiful girl with jet black hair that reminded her of levi's and a red scarf, leaving eren still dangling upside down "dear, can you lend your odm mechanism to eren? i suppose there's something wrong with his" and she was right. as soon as the boy put on his friend's equipment and tried swinging, he was floating like any normal person would. just as she thought.

y/n walked back to the small stage, smiling softly as he heard the excitement reeking from the young group of friends. at the end of the day they were just kids being kids. training was hard but they've had enough of their childhood pried away from them. little moments like these never hurt. she wished that one day kids wouldn't have to be forced away from their families and trained only to die by the jaws of titans. maybe one day they would be free from this curse. and maybe then, she could open that tea shop she always wanted. maybe levi would stick around and help her too.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"maybe you should think twice about kicking the shit out of my students" her tone on a fine line between bored to death and teasing. that trial was awfully draining and boring. since when did everyone think they could share their opinion on something they have zero knowledge on? still noone knew how to handle a titan shifter but the military police thinking they had a say in this was just a poorly written joke "besides i haven't given my testament yet"

"go ahead"

"we can use the kid to our benefit. killing him would only cause more harm and i believe it would be a serious mistake to do so. honestly he could just turn into a titan right now and kill us all for all i care. i don't see how this would benefit either parties. anyways, i said what i had to say. there are people in here with absolutely zero knowledge over titans, why are we letting them do the talking? correct me if im wrong" her cold gaze met levi's across the room as she support her weight with her elbows on the stool "go on, im curious to see how this ends"

captain y/l/n never failed to stun everyone wherever she stepped foot in. both from her beauty and boldness. in this situation, the latter was enough to turn heads her way. levi absolutely hated that. first and foremost because she deserved much better than the lewd stares of strangers upon her ethereal beauty and last but not least due to her well...controversial choice of words and audacity. even if he admired her bravery, he knew sooner or later she would get in trouble.

after the judge concluded the trial and the decision that eren would be now apart of their team, the entire squad were lead into a conference room to discuss important matters, like controlling eren's titan abilities and a formation plan for their next move to regain the shiganshina district.

"please just tell me noone else here is a titan, save me from the embarrassment"

"uh... i hope i am the only one captain y/l/n" eren said as hange offered him a cloth to clean his face from the open wounds levi's boots had caused.

"well eren jeager can we trust you to save humanity?"

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"do you think this is going to end well?" levi turned around to meet her eyes but she was staring far off into the night sky "i know eren has shown us that we can trust him, but it's different. we've never seen anything like this before. i feel like something bad is going to happen soon and i don't know, i'm scared" huffing she took another sip of her tea that had now gone cold "this is only the beggining. the titans that infiltrated wall maria are still out there and we don't know if we'll be able to take them. maybe there's no coming out of this one"

"stop saying stupid shit like this" he snapped, making her side eye him "i mean, i feel like this too, don't be so pessimistic about it"

"i cant believe this sentence just came out of you? am i talking to the same levi?"

"shut up. i trust you enough not to die, so don't. tomorrow after we catch the female titan you'll come back to me. i don't even want the smallest of bruise on you" levi was so vulnerable during moments like these and she treasured the fact that she was the only person in this world to see him at this state.

"if you want me alive that much then i have no choice, do i?"

"i want you"

huh?

"i want you alive" there was a slight tint of red contrasting the paleness of his skin and yet she missed it due to the darkness that surrounded them.

oh.

"then I'll come back to you and you'll come back to me"

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

the forest had never looked as scary and gloomy as it did when the threat of the female titan had subsided and all that was left was to wander around looking for any surviving members of the scouts participating in the mission.

petra, oluo, ganther. everyone had died during the mission and yet she was still there, leaving the survivor's guilt and shame to wash over her. levi was right. no matter how much trust you can put into another person other than yourself, they can be gone in any minute.

"shit" she hissed slowly sitting down on the tree next to petra, who was like a found younger sister to her. her face was stoic, only a few beads of sweat atop of her hairline.

and then she let out the loudest and unsettling scream of frustration she could.

levi was the first to find her, sobbing next to petra's lifeless body. he had never seen her at this state before. even when she tried jumping off the roof she had been so calm and collected, yet now he was seeing a whole another side of her that he wished he never would again. he'd actually rather have his legs eaten by a titan, that would hurt way less. he approached her slowly, making sure he was giving her enough space to back away if she felt uncomfortable.

and then his lips met her hairline as her hands desperately grasped the clothing on his back, trying to keep herself grounded. his hands were instantly being wrapped around her waist, gripping her tightly so she could not slip and kept his lips on her scalp. no words were needed to be spoken and as he felt her loosen up he laid one final kiss on her forehead and cupped her cheeks softly making her look into his eyes.

"i failed"

"it's not your fault, calm down, i've got you, noone can hurt you"

"they're all dead" he nodded, still caressing her soft skin "it should have been me" something about her talking like that ticked him off, it scared him how she would never think about how valuable her life was then in just a second, his whole demeanor against her changed and he pushed her away, not hard enough to hurt her, yet hard enough to make her lose her footing.

"i told you to cut the shit" his tone had also changed to his ice cold , the one he would use when speaking to everyone that wasnt her "what the fuck was that for? you think that you dying would be any better? i would rather everyone in this fucking world die right now if it meant that you'd still be here and i don't care what you have to say" levi was selfish. he was so selfish when it came to her "stop acting like a pathetic bitch"

"our whole squad just fucking died, and you keep talking about me being alive and im the pathetic one here? just shut up" they were both angry and neither could recall any other time in which they have spoken such harsh words to each other "you should've let me jump off that fucking roo-" he was pushing her again, this time against the tree with his hands around her neck "what the fuck are you doing?"

"shut the fuck up" using her whatever strength she had left she kicked him away taking, a moment to catch her breath and before she knew she was pinned back against the tree "im not a monster, i cared about them just as much as you did" he spat "i dont care about them as much as i care about you and i fucking hate it so if you plan on putting others above your own life then dont bother fucking talking to me again"

"um- excuse me, captain levi? captain y/l/n?" what now? "we-they told us to come pick up the bodies" the terrified soldier saluted at the captains that were literally about to rip each other to shreds just seconds ago. levi took a step back and turned around to head back to where the rest of the survivors had gathered.

"go ahead" her glare shot knives into his back "you coming, y/l/n?" he asked stopping to look back at her. just what had gotten into him? why was he so harsh all of a sudden? she nodded and picked up her pace to reach him.

and as they walked between the high trees, neither realized how or when their fingers ended up linked to each other's once again..

part 3 coming soon...

how i look at my screen after y/n just got called kitten/puppy/bunny

masterlist | jjk

am i okay? no lmao, heres too many jungkook fics main masterlist

series

dextrocardia | cop!jk x f detective!reader, undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, [a] [f] [s], ongoing

↳ dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who’s got their heart in the right place.

“She’s been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you’ll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this.”

“What?!” It’s Jeongguk’s upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17

between takes | porn star!jk x f fluffer!reader, porn star au, [f] [a] [s] complete ✔️

01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07

↳ as a fluffer for a popular porn star, your focus is to keep him hard and performing on set. turns out he’s not the only thing that’s hard.

drown for you | siren!jk x f reader, sci-fi, merman/siren au, [f] [a] [s] ongoing

↳ there was something in that enormous tank, hidden in the murky water. all you knew was that you weren’t allowed inside the room and that it used to hold something dangerous.

evolution of a lover’s heart | fuckboy!jk x f reader, college au, bet au, [f] [a] [s], complete ✔️

↳ the rules are simple: first one to take the virginity wins. 

part one: the lover 01, 02 

part two: the beloved 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08

drabbles (on patreon): piercings, accidents, …

to tame a god | alpha!jk x f reader, werewolf au, [f] [a] [s], complete ✔️

↳ jeon jeongguk is the youngest alpha his pack has ever seen, and they all trust him with their lives. one day, a strange wolf enters his territory. they know it’s not a regular wolf because just like their own, its eyes shine with the supernatural powers from within. but it won’t shift back to its human form to reveal its intentions.

(preview)  01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06

brown-eyed baby | single dad/dilf!jk x f reader, exes2lovers au, [f] [a] [s], complete ✔️

↳ a lost child at the mall, eyes from a different time.

01, 02

google doc

one-shots

summer nights and morning dew | alpha!jk x f knitter!reader, cottagecore, oldentimes au, [f], [a], 11k

↳ “As if we don’t know where you go every night.”

young spy | spy!jk x reader, mafia au, [a] [f], 11.6k

↳ three down, many to go as bad men are meeting their deaths tonight. the brown-haired one, who’s next in line, has given up his fight. will you make it in time?

wherever there is you | jk x reader, marriage au, [a] [f], 4.6k

↳ anniversary. dinner for two, yet you’re alone. you don’t know where he is.

what money can buy | sugar baby!jk x rich!reader, [f] [a], 17.8k

↳ in need of money, jeongguk signs up as a sugar baby, assuming he’ll be paid for sex by some old kinky woman. he never expected to meet someone like you. what were you doing on that site, and why would you have to pay for company?

deal | demon!jk x reader, [a] [s] [f], 19.5k

↳ what do you do when your teenage brother’s cancer is too far gone? well, you summon a cocky crossroad demon to make a deal; your life for Taehyung’s.

dear stranger | ex-firefighter!jk x reader, [f], 3k

↳ lucky you, getting stuck in an elevator, your worst nightmare come to life. lucky you, getting stuck with a stranger.

love you, crazy | boyfriend!jk x reader, [s] [f], 3.1k

↳ “I wish you would write a fic where jungkook wants to get off but you’re not available (for whatever reason) and he gets off by himself.”

or, you’re at a party with a coworker who has the hots for your boyfriend. Jeongguk decides to put an end to her comments once and for all, and he does it through… facetime?

bad delivery | bad boy, delivery guy!jk x reader [c]

↳ “I wish you would write a fic about delivery boy jungkook who everyone thinks is a cool baddie for riding a motorcycle around but it’s a company bike, and he’s just a shy nerd that wears lots of black.”

hell, overtaken | devil!jk x f angel!reader, [s] [a], 251 words

↳ how did an angel conquer hell?

Angrily in Love

two mafia families, two heirs. they should’ve stay away from one another, they usually do. but a new threat forces them to work together. and you know what they say; the line between hate and love can be blurry

enemies to lovers, mafia member!jungkook, mafia tech! reader, bickering, pining, angst, little fluff, strong female lead, SARCASM. light smut. tw: MENTIONS OF death/murder. brief mention of prostitution (no character does this it’s only mentioned)

wc: 20.2k she’s a long one

12 months ago

London, England

You stand deathly still, spine straight and eyes forward. The cold metal of the gun strapped to your thigh makes your skin itch but you don’t move, not one inch. No one can see you, you were certain of that but then again you didn’t dare do anything that could even possibly garner any attention. No, you kept close to the tree who’s shadow was helping keeping you hidden. Not too far in front of you, but far enough to not be seen, a coffin is slowly moved six feet below. There was no sounds of anyone crying, not even a sniffle was made from any of the small group of people attending the funeral. They simply just watched, straight unwavering faves as two men began to shovel dirt on top of the coffin and as soon as the first load of dirt fell upon the casket- everyone in attendance turned and left without looking back. You waited, longer then you needed to, before walking over once the two men had finished their job of burying the coffin. Now you stood at the end of the freshly done grave, staring down at the headstone, blinking a couple times you bent down on your knees. A small smile graced your lips slowly.

“bye father, rot in hell”

Present

New York, United States

Y/N

It was silent, except for the occasional scrapes of metal cutlery against the plates, as you and your Grandfather ate dinner. Although no words were being exchanged, it was comfortable. This man had raised you his entire life and he doted on your every move since the day you were born, he was the reason you carried on in this trauma filled existence. Being involved in the underground dealings of the world should’ve been terrifying, you should’ve screamed and begged to not be inflicted in mafia business. But you didn’t, in fact, you thrived on this lifestyle. You were smart, more so then most men in this type of business and most of them knew that. The things you could find out with a simple laptop could crumble someone’s entire life with one click.

“y/n, dear, i have a job for you” This immediately peaked your interest, dropping your cutlery you looked to your Grandfather at the end of a rather large dining table. Well, it had to be big to fill the space- it was a mansion you were in after all. High ceilings, glamorous decor and extravagant windows.

“what do you need me to do?” There wasn’t a lot you wouldn’t do for him, all he had to do was give you the word and you were on it. He reached into his suit pocket, pulling out a white envelope before standing and walking the distance between the two of you. He placed the envelope in front of you before giving you a pat on the shoulder

“you’re not going to like this love, but it needs to be done” You furrow your eyebrows at this but remain silent and open the envelope

- Codes to a locked spreadsheet your father kept hidden: break into it.

- New group started, your father knew it would happen he has information.

- You’re partner for this: Jeon Jungkook

Your jaw tightens, the last person on this earth you’d want to work with was Jeon Jungkook. The rivals families heir? The cocky, insufferable bastard?

“get it done” Is all your Grandfather says before walking out of the dining room and off onto his wing of the mansion. Letting out a sigh you flip the sheet in front of you. On the back of the paper were several computer codes and you gave a little nod to yourself before sliding the paper back into the envelope and standing before retreating to your wing of the mansion. If this is what needed to be done, then you’d just have to suck it up and do the job.

London, England

Jungkook

He sat with a straight face, looking at the cards between his fingers before casually drifting his gaze to the men sat around the table. Smoke from cigarettes filled the air and the smell mixed with the scent of scotch.

“stop looking so serious Jungkook, this is a friendly game” Taehyung, one of his closest men, smirked as Jungkook’s remained unmoving. He always took poker so seriously, always the competitive type.

“i wouldn’t call ten grand at risk a friendly game” Yoongi quipped before the men around the table chuckled, they knew that amount of money meant nothing to them. It was pocket change if anything. “i fold” He sighed before placing his cards face down and taking a swig of his scotch before rising from the table and walking off.

“what will it be Jungkook?” Namjoon asked from across the table, just the two of them left in the game and it was up to Jungkook whether he folded or risked it and raised. Of course, he raised before showing his deck and leaning back in his chair with a raised eyebrow “you’re such a cocky bastard you know that?” Namjoon let out before showing his cards and standing from the table, leaving Jungkook to collect his winnings. Smirking he left the money on the table, he’d come back for it.

“Jeon, duty calls!” One of his fathers men shouting down into his den got his attention and he sighs before standing

“funs over, don’t take my winnings” He says before going up the stairs to the exit of his sanctuary before heading straight to his fathers office. Not that it was a quick journey, the mansion was not lack in size. The Jeon estate was one to be marvelled at, Jungkook’s wing alone was enough to be classed as a mansion in its own right. But once he did make it, he walked straight in not bothering to knock as he did so. His father didn’t flinch, used to his son barging in as he pleased.

“son, take a seat” He did so, eyeing the two men that stood behind his father, it almost made him chuckle. His own father felt the need to protect himself from him, although he’d be a fool not to. Jungkook had skills that any would dream to have mastered, he was undeniably strong with a quick brain. If he wanted to, he’d have both guards dead aswell as his father within minutes. “we have a problem” Jungkook quirked a brow, not saying anything, so the older man continued “theirs a new alliance brewing, we got wind of it last week but didn’t feel it was that worrying. But it’s important this gets squished now”

“stop talking around the topic and get to the specifics” Jungkook had no time for riddles, if there was a job to be done all information needed to be given to him now so he could do what he needed to

“before you were born there was a family that were said to be the most dangerous in the world. we thought every single one of them were dead, turns out we were wrong. and when i say we son, i don’t mean just our family” Staying quiet, Jungkook eyed his father urging him to continue his little story. “the y/l/n’s” He concluded and Jungkook’s muscles tighten. Their rivals, the bane of his existence and the worst of the lot? You. He met you a handful of times, all memory of them made him uncontrollably angry. You were a sarcastic little woman and every word that came out of your month made him want to cut your tongue off. The worst thing about it was how attractive you were, he always left the small altercations you two had extremely mad and half hard. But no matter what, they’d always be bad blood between the two of you- especially after last year.

“where do i come into this?” His father took a deep breath before leaning back into his chair, fingers interlocking with one another.

“i need you to take out that last family member. we just don’t know where they’re hiding, but someone can find out and they’re grandfather already agreed to a temporary alliance” Anger arose within him, fearing he already knew who exactly his father was talking about “you’re heading to new york”

New York, United States

Y/N

You took a deep breath as you stood at the back exit of the airport, waiting on a secret runway. In a few short minutes your worst nightmare would be landing and coming out of his private jet. Why you had to come and meet him was beyond you, but your Grandfather asked and hell would freeze over before you said no to him. Although, it just might actually freeze over now it’s leader was about to land in front of your very eyes. The devil himself; Jeon Jungkook. You heard the jet above your head, you were quite a distance from the runway of course but it was still deafening. Tilting your head up, you scoffed as you looked at his jet

Jeon Air

It was all back with white writing, making it extremely obvious who owned the jet. Once it finally came to a halt, you didn’t make a move to walk over. choosing to stay by the door that led to the secret tunnels leading out. The door opened and you spot him coming out the entrance, deep black suit covered his muscles and shades hid his eyes. He spots you and you know he did because he tenses, it makes you chuckle. Walking down the steps he stops at the bottom of them as someone comes over with his suitcase, handing it over to him. Taking it, he extends the handle and begins to walk in your direction. Once he’s close, you turn and open the door and begin the walk out not even bothering to greet him. You simply didn’t want to.

“what a lovely warm welcome” He mumbled behind you and you roll your eyes and continued walking ahead, not wanting to get involved in his little game. The noise of his suitcase wheels grinding against the floor was echoing in the long tunnels. You felt him shuffle with something and you just knew exactly what he was doing, how predictable he was. Smoothly, you reach to your thigh pulling the gun from your strap and turning to point it straight between his eyes. You met the sight of the barrel of his own gun, pointing down at you as he stopped walking. Then it was a stare off, you felt ridiculous but he pulled his on you first and he did it while your back was turned- how pathetic.

“you’re not subtle at all, i heard the shuffling. you should work on that” His lip twitched, making your smirk. He was so easy to annoy and it bought you joy to do so.

“you think you’re so smart”

“i don’t think, i know” In one quick motion your leg raise, your ankle hitting his wrist making the gun slip from his grasp and you could see the shock on his face. Keeping your gun pointed at his direction you stepped towards him, hand coming up to grip his tie. “are you sure you’re a mafia bosses son? because disarming you was way too quick” Then you were pushing him, he was strong but you were quick. Now against the wall, he stared down at you breathing hard as your grip tightened upon his tie. “don’t underestimate me Jeon” The pair of you held your eye contact in silence, he could’ve pushed you away, in one quick motion he could’ve had your arms behind your back and face against the wall. But he remained still and you knew you had won this time. Finally, you released his tie and stepped backwards until your feet met his fallen weapon. You kick it and it makes a loud noise as it slides over to him on the concrete floor. Without a word you take off and continue walking, you hear him collect his gun and the noise of wheels on his suitcase fills the silence once again. Once you reach the end you push open the door and the sun beats down onto your skin and makes you squint slightly as you slip your gun back into the strap on your thigh. You were enjoying the warming of your skin from the summer heat before you felt him standing behind you, instantly spoiling the moment.

“if you’ve finished whatever you’re doing, i’d like to leave” Closing your eyes momentarily, you mentally count to five to calm yourself before walking to your car and he followed. It stood out like a sore thumb, a cyan tinted Bugatti Divo, your little baby. You unlock it before popping the boot to let Jungkook put his luggage in.

“put your shit in the boot, then get in and don’t touch a fucking thing inside” You gave your simple instructions before getting into the drivers seat, waiting for him. Looking in the mirror you see him rounding the back and heading for the door so you close the boot with a simple button as he opens the door and slides in. Wincing as he shuts the door a little too hard for your liking you side eye him. “don’t slam my doors you fucking imbecile” He gives you a look before reaching for the door, holding your stare he opens it and proceeds to slam it shut. Your jaw clenches, he smirks. “you’re lucky my grandfather wants you alive Jeon” With that, you turn the engine on and without warning speed out of your parking spot making Jungkook fly back in his seat, the idiot didn’t put his belt on.

The y/l/n Estate

Jungkook

His eyes explored the place as the grand gates opened to your estate, it felt strange. He was basically crossing enemy lines with no protection other then the gun tucked into waist. Flashes of you kicking it from his grip comes to his mind and then to you having him up against the wall. God why didn’t he push you back, teach you a lesson for putting your hands on him? Shaking himself from his thoughts he took note of his surroundings, your land seems to be slightly bigger than his own, a lavish little fountain was placed at the end of the long drive up to the mansion. Of course, the y/l/n family knew how to show off. You parked the car beside the estate, not uttering a word as you open the boot and get out of the car. Rolling his eyes, he opens the door and steps out

“slam that door and i’ll pin you against it” Your voice calls as you walk away, not even turning to his direction but you wait for him to get his stuff as you face the entrance to the home. Taking a breath he closes the door, softly, before grabbing his suitcase from the boot. As soon as it hits the ground you press your button to close the boot before locking the car and walking inside, leaving Jungkook to follow along. He argued about this, staying at your family’s mansion. All he wanted was to stay at a hotel and see you only when necessary but his father declined, stressing that your Grandfather had extended his hospitality and it would be much easier to work together under one roof. Huffing, he enters and takes a look around the place. If he were honest with himself he’d say he preferred this place to his own home, it was more welcoming. Photos of you and your grandfather hung all over the place, just the two of you. Well that was expected, he knew your father was dead and buried back in England.

“Mr Jeon!” A loud, booming voice almost echoed against the walls and his gaze turns away from the pictures to see your grandfather walking towards him from the top of the stairs. He was on edge to say the least, he was the head of his rivals and here he stood watching him come down the stairs, smile on his face until he stood in front of him. His age was evident, the full head of grey hair and greying beard. But you’d think he was your father then grandfather, he still looked young. “welcome to our home Jungkook” He waved a hand in the air and a guy, clearly a worker came over and took his suitcase from his grip and began retreating into the mansion “He’s taking it to y/n’s wing, you’ll stay there” He had to hold in the eye roll he wanted to let out, of course he was being put there. “We have a wing for guests but i think you’ll be more comfortable in her wing and it will be easier to work together” Jungkook gave a nod, not bothering to speak, he didn’t truly trust this man. There was no way he ever would, he knew what he was capable of. “Come, i’ll get you settled in, seems as y/n has disappeared” He begins walking in the same direction as the worker had and Jungkook followed, eyeing his surroundings as he did so. They reached an elevator and it was a huge one, your grandfather pressed the button and the pair entered together. It was silent as the doors closed and the lift began moving.

“i know you’re probably on edge, crossing enemy lines” Your grandfather broke the silence and Jungkook raised an eyebrow, keeping his eyes in front of him “but i promise you, while you’re under my roof no harm will come to you. i admire you actually” This took Jungkook by surprise, not even his own father said any sort of praise to him but here was the head of his rivals doing just that “you’re a strong kid, your head is screwed on right. iam happy to have this alliance, even if it’s temporary” With that the doors opened and your grandfather walked away and left Jungkook a little stunned. He took a moment before exiting the lift, his eyes widen slightly. It was like entering a completely different mansion. The walls were black, halloween-like decor filled the space, strangely close to what his wing looked like back home. “this is your room, y/n’s is down the corridor to the right. kitchen is to the left and there’s a staircase at the back leading to the land out back. there’s also a gym down the corridor opposite y/n’s room, iam sure you’ll want to take advantage of that” The man finishes by giving Jungkook a pat on his bicep, before leaving back in the direction he came from, he could hear the faint ding of the lift. Opening the door he takes it in, large king bed in the middle with black silk sheets. The walls matched while the units were bright white. Damn, he actually liked it better then his own place and he decorated that place himself. His suitcase was left at the end of the bed and he stepped in to unpack before loud music filled the wing. Turning in the direction it came from, his curiosity got the better of it and he followed it. The closer he got to the gym, the louder it got. He stopped outside, the the door made of glass meaning he can see right inside and he noticed you. In your exercise gear, leggings and sports bra, your back faced him as you punched into a bag hung from the ceiling. With music covering his sounds, he opens the door and stalks over to you- it was time to teach you a lesson. It was payback for the airport, he wasn’t just going to let anyone get away with disrespecting him. He wasn’t going to doing anything bad, trip your foot and pin you to the floor just enough to embarrass you. Inching closer, his hand raised you grip the back of your neck but it all happened so fast. Your right hand reaches behind your head, gripping his wrist as you swipe your leg into his while simultaneously pulling his arm forward. He flips over your back, onto the mat in front of you. In an instant your on top of him, blade pinned to his neck making him gasp lightly.

“you’re testing my patience Jeon” He looks up at you, eyes narrowed as you hold the blade flush against his neck. “keep it up Jungkook, see how long you last” With that you stand off him and walk over to smack a button, turning the music off before you stomp out of the gym. His eyes followed you until his head hit the mat, breathing hard as he stares at the ceiling.

The y/l/n’s Estate

Y/n

You sat in the main living room floor, beside your grandfather’s legs as he sits on the sofa behind you. The pair of you working on a puzzle that was scattered on the table. This was an activity the pair of you did often, ever since you were a teenager you’d do puzzles with him. It was nice to do this, it had been a couple days since Jungkook arrived and all you had done was ignore each other.

“i hope you’re making our new house guest feel welcome” Your jaw clenches at the mention of him under your roof, not wanting to be reminded he was now settling into your wing instead of the guest wing.

“sure am” You get out through clenched teeth, not wanting to upset him. He chuckles as he fishes through the pieces trying to find the last corner piece.

“look, you may not like this y/n but this new group are bad news. they’re a great threat to us, it needs to be dealt with and the best way to do so is with this alliance.” Sighing you nod, understanding that he was right. You and Jungkook were the sole heirs to two massive empires, you both have the training and knowledge to deal with this problem. Although you knew this, you certainly wasn’t going to be happy about it.

“sir, Mr Jeon says he has some information he needs to share” A voice makes you look up and it’s Anna, your grandfather’s wing housekeeper. She basically raised you alongside him, been with you for as long as you can remember.

“tell him to meet me in my office please Anna, i’ll wait there” You ask, standing before giving a smile to your grandfather before heading off to your work quarters. It was a floor above your wing, the top floor of the mansion, anything business related got dealt with on that floor. Sitting down at your desk, it was large and deep black, you open your laptop and jump slightly when the door opens harshly.

“it’s polite to knock” You grumble as he swings the door closed and sits nonchalantly in the chair opposite

“it’s also polite to not be a raging bitch maybe you should stop doing that” Glaring at him from across the desk, he simply stares back.

“what’s this important information you’ve found?” Leaning back in your chair he clears his throat lightly before speaking

“my father said he found out a location they could be working from, we need to chase it up” Nodding you begin going through your laptops security camera programme

“address” You state simply and you hear him huff, probably in annoyance at your tone but you couldn’t care less, you had no time to be nice to him neither did you want to.

“here” He mumbles, throwing a piece of paper on the desk, you lean your hand out with even looking up and slide it over to you. Quickly typing the address into your laptop you pull up the information and find six cameras in the area. It only takes you a couple of minutes before you hack into them and pull up the feeds. It was a place holding shipment containers with a few warehouses near by.

“ok got it” Leaning back once again you begin flipping through the different cameras trying to find anything interesting

“got what exactly?” You don’t say anything, just lift you hand telling him to come over before moving you hand back to the laptop. Jungkook huffs again but stands and rounds the desk, leaning down he raises an eyebrow “the security cams for the address?”

“yep” For a moment you think you can see a look cross his face that seems he’s impressed but it disappeared before you could really tell.

“car pulling in, camera four” This has you pulling yourself into further into the desk and double click on said camera. A blacked out van stops just inside the entrance gates, you and Jungkook lean closer to the laptop as you watch in silence. A few moments pass before four guys hope out, all holding familiar looking guns making your eyes widen

“m2 smg’s, only military should be in possession of them” Jungkook’s turns to you at the information, this was a much bigger problem then he originally thought

“how could you tell what guns they were so quickly? the image is so grainy” He sounded genuinely curious, he was quite well educated when it came to guns but even he couldn’t tell that fast. You simply shrug

“found my fathers armoury at twelve, became obsessed with finding out what it all was” At the mention of your father he tenses, so do you. You regret it even coming out of your mouth so you quickly move on “if these guys are getting military grade equipment they must have killer connections”

“yeah, or they’re stealing. both are as bad as each other” He states, leaning away from the table shoving his hands in his suit pockets. You think for a moment, right now there wasn’t much that could be done. Rounding up people and storming down there would just end up in a blood bath, reporting them to police was out of the window- when it came to police that option was always out the window with your families. With a new thought suddenly coming to mind, you move your hands to your laptop and minimise the cameras before moving onto to something else. “what you doing?” Jungkook leans down to get a good look, again he sounds genuinely interested which makes a change for his normal asshole way of speaking

“serial numbers, all of those guns should have serial numbers. if i can track all the shipments the military have been sent of those smg’s, i could see whether they were stolen they have to report that. that should answer our question if they have connections or not”With that, you tapping at your keys while Jungkook watches over your shoulder- did he not know the term personal space? Nonetheless you said nothing, just worked on finding the information you needed. You had to block your IP Address, and make sure you were leaving no trace of you ever entering these programmes. This was going to take some time, so once everything was set and loading you stand making your shoulder brush Jungkook’s arm making him stand with you.

“what can’t do it? not as gifted as you thought?” His head tilts to the side to aide his snarky tone as his hands slide right back into his pockets

“it’s loading, i have to wait. what have no idea how these things work? too stupid?” You match his previous tone, tilting your head to the side aswell. He narrows his eyes at you but you bare it no mind and shoulder check him as you walk past him and out your office. Sure you could’ve walked the other way, but you were too petty for that. You stand in the hallway before turning back to face him “get out” He raises an eyebrow at your demand “like iam gonna trust you in there, you’re a Jeon after all” He lets out a breathy single chuckle before he finally moves his feet and then shoulder checks you at the door, before walking in the direction of the lift

“bitch” You hear him faintly mumble, you run your tongue over your top teeth before you slam the door behind you and let out a smirk when you notice his body jump slightly at the sudden noise.

The y/l/n Estate

Jungkook

He stares at the ceiling, not sure what the time was but he new it was late. or really early. Huffing he tossed and turned, he couldn’t fucking sleep ever since he was jolted awake from the stupid nightmare. The loud bang of the gun, the screaming, the blood- Yeah he definitely wasn’t going back to sleep anytime soon. It was pathetic really, he took many lives and he didn’t have an ounce of shame or regret about any of them. But that first kill- it kept coming back to haunt him. Sighing he flings the covers back, getting on his feet he leaves the room and heads straight to the kitchen. It was eerily quiet and dark, not a single sound was even coming from outside. The perks of living in a mansion in the middle of nowhere, he knew about that too well. He keeps his eyes downwards as he reaches the kitchen, hoping to find some sort of alcohol in there. Strolling in he jumps at the sound of a glass hitting a marble surface. His head jumps up, you’re standing at the marble island- scotch in your grip as you stare at him in the entrance way. It was a kind of scary sight, you standing there in the dark drinking with a gun resting next to the glass. Without any words you turn, grab an empty glass from the cupboard before placing it down and sliding it onto the surface towards him. An invitation to drink he supposed. Walking into the kitchen now he grips the glass as you now slide the bottle of scotch in his direction. He begins to pour himself a healthy amount as you drown the rest of your drink before walking around the island, just sporting a long t-shirt and socks.

“don’t drink all my shit, i will have to kill you in your sleep” With that, you’re gone and he lets out a chuckle with no humour in it. He didn’t doubt you actually would, you’ve been dying to put a bullet in his head for the last year, probably longer then that. Jungkook sipped on his drink as he stared out the window opposite him, the moonlight seeping in making it not total pitch black. He didn’t even know why you didn’t fight against having him here, you couldn’t stand him, you wanted him dead. Yet here you were, letting him sleep under your roof and drink your scotch. It annoyed him, infuriated him that you were showing an ounce of sympathy towards him, he didn’t need you to feel sorry for him. He was already feeling sorry for himself enough for everyone. Sighing, he refilled his glass a little but downed it all straight away. He needed to solve this new crew nonsense as fast as possible, he needed to go home, needed to get away from you.

When the sun rose the next morning the faint sound of music filled his ears. His eyes fluttered open and it took him a second to remember where he was and when he did, he groaned. Stretching, he sat up and focused on the music he could hear slightly. It sounded like jazz, he could hear the occasional trumpet mixed with other instruments. He stands and slips on a plain white shirt before leaving the room, the music gets clearer as he does so. It’s coming from your gym, he furrows his brows as he stands in the hallway. why would you listen to jazz to work out? Moving his feet, he doesn’t know why but he walks to the gym- his curiosity got the better of him. The music gets louder and Jungkook turns the corner and he sees the glass door to your gym, he gets closer and peeks through. His eyes meet you and your Grandfather happily dancing to the music playing through the gym. He thinks it’s the first time he’s seen a genuine smile on your lips as your Grandfathers spins you by your arm making you let out a laugh. A pain struck his heart, so this is what a happy home could look like? He wouldn’t know, his mother left when he was a kid and his dad only wanted him to do work. God he hated this feeling, that empty gnawing pit at his stomach that let him know he was jealous, jealous at the fact you and your Grandfather were so close when the only true meaning of family he knew were his friends. Deciding he had seen enough he spun on his heel and went back to his room, feeling even more sorry for himself. As he was getting his outfit ready the music stopped and it was quiet before he heard steps coming in his direction. He stopped moving and waited before two knocks on the door echoed throughout the room.

“got a new lead Jeon, come to my office” With that, your footsteps retreated back from the door and he heard the faint ding of the lift. Sighing, he got dressed and smoothed down his blazer before doing up the buttons and leaving the room to make his way to your office. It’s silent as he rides the lift to your office and all he can bring himself to feel is annoyed. He hated that he had to be here and he hated having to work with you.

The y/l/n Estate

y/n

You’re tapping on you’re laptop, finally being able to search the military reports you had left loading the previous day. Not only did you have those reports now, you also had the information from beyond the grave. Aka: your father. Of course he withheld important information and kept it all locked up for himself. Sometimes, you felt guilty for being relieved he was dead- then you’d remember who he was and what he did. You don’t feel so bad then. Someone clearing their throat alerts you to their presence and you look up from your screen and see Jungkook standing in the doorway. You left the door open, not wanting him to burst in and have to teach him about basic manners. Lifting your hand you indicate to the chair in front of, telling him to sit and if you weren’t already drained from having him in your space- you would’ve told him to not only sit but to shut the fuck up for good measure. However, you were fed up and tired, so you chose to say nothing.

“what’s the lead?” He breaks the silence, and you look back to your screen momentarily to finish what you were doing before looking back up.

“military reported a shipment of m2 smg’s missing four months ago, i found out that a boat carrying those guns was raided by an unknown group.” Jungkook appears to think about the information, although you don’t care if he has anything to say so you continue “we have a confirmed location that the group likes to frequent” He seems shocked by this, but that expression is wiped away in a second.

“the location we saw them at yesterday?” You shake you head to say no before speaking, you didn’t want to mention that this was your fathers leads so you chose to leave that little bit out

“my grandfather gave me some codes to break into this whole load of information. before you came i started up up the programme and it’s finally done. on the list was a club the head of this group has been confirmed to frequent. we now have a name, face and location.” With that, you open your top desk drawer and pull out a packet you put together of the information you found. You didn’t really want to sit and explain everything to him, so this was the best option “read through that, memorise the leaders face, height, weight, name all of the above. later, we’ll go to the club” He stops flipping through the pages to look up at you as you stand

“we’re going to go? on our own? isn’t that something you should’ve consulted with me on?” Rolling your eyes you close your laptop, the sound echoing in your office

“iam consulting with you now” You pick up your laptop and walk around the desk to leave, he scoffs and stands up to block you from the door

“no, you’ve already decided the plan. we’re meant to work together stop being so fucking bossy and involve me in the decision making!” His voice started to raise, you sigh and sit on the edge of your desk gripping your laptop in front of you

“okay, what time do you want to go to the club ten or eleven?” He glares at you and you shrug “you wanted to be involved, we can go at whichever time you like sweetheart” You stand then, watching as his tongue pokes against his cheek clearly annoyed. God, you hated him but he was hot when he was angry. He steps forward, making your head tilt up slightly to look at him. You could feel his breathe on your face but you weren’t about to back down, he didn’t scare you.

“you’re intolerable” He gets out through gritted teeth and you smile up at him, it wasn’t sincere and you both knew that. Jungkook keeps his eyes on yours and you hold the stare, smile still planted on your lips.

“good, you’re the last person i want to make feel comfortable. i hope you hate every day you’re working with me” His jaw tightens, he leans his head down nose bumping against yours momentarily almost making you falter but you stay put “we leave at ten, be ready” You get out before stepping to the side and leaving your office, you’re about to rush off to your room but turn to stare at him still stood in your office. You’d never leave him in there, not one ounce of trust in your body for him.

“iam leaving, don’t wont to snoop around your office anyway. i have better things to do” He finishes his sentence with his back to you before he turns and begins to walk in your direction. Giving you one final look, he bumps your shoulder and walks away.

Albany, New York

11:24pm

Your heels click on the pavement and a tight red dress clings to your thighs and you walk beside Jungkook in the busy streets on New York. The dress didn’t allow for you to wear your gun on your thigh, it would clearly be seen, you opted for a blade tucked into your bra. You knew Jungkook had a gun tucked in the back on his belt, he always did and in some way that made you feel a little more relaxed. Turning a corner you spot the neon sign you’ve been keeping an eye out for, and stop your movement while placing your hand on Jungkook’s arm to get him to stop walking too.

“we’re here. remember the all information?” He gives you an exasperated look as you keep your eyes on the club and everyone going in and out

“not a rookie” Is all he says making you roll your eyes, he couldn’t just give you a simple yes or no?

“whatever, let’s go through the back entrance. front is too dangerous they could check for weapons” You don’t wait for a reply, just walk towards the alley behind the club and you hear his footsteps following you. The closer you get you notice a worker push open the door, you push yourself against the wall before the alleyway. Jungkook stands directly behind you, you can feel him as he pushes up against you to hide himself. Letting out a breathe you quickly jump into action when the worker goes back through the door. You run up and hold the door open, slipping through it and Jungkook comes right in after you. Silently, you both make your way down an empty hallway towards the music that continues to grow louder. At the end of the hallway was the back of the club, opposite through a small crowd of people was the bar

“ok, let’s head straight for the bar. get a drink and find a good view point” Jungkook simply nods, you knew he hated when you boss him around- so you made sure to always do it. The pair of you give each other a look before turning and entering into the crowd and walking over to the bar. You look around as Jungkook gets the bartenders attention, you were surprised that there wasn’t many people.

“what do you want?” You turn your attention to Jungkook as he waits for your order

“white wine” He nods and turns back to the bar tender, in a couple minutes he hands you your glass and pays for the drinks. Suddenly, the music turns down it doesn’t stop but it was too quiet for a club

“what’s happening?” Jungkook whispers to you and you shrug, maybe it was technical difficulties? You’re about to suggest that when people all around you start kissing, not softly either. Your eyes widen as some people get on floor to make out while some make use of the booths. Both you and Jungkook whip your heads around in shock but then it hits you.

“fucking hell, it’s a sex club!” You get out as you look to Jungkook, his hands in fists as he tries not to look around him. “we look so out of place, come on” You use your free hand to tug him to an empty booth, planting your wine on the table you turn and take his drink from him and putting it next to yours.

“what’s your genius plan now? we’re gonna get fucking caught!” Ignoring him, you’re pushing him down to sit in the booth. His eyes widen as you stand in front of him.

“just shut the fuck up and listen” You pull the hem of your dress up and little before sitting yourself down on his lap. He looks up at you, pupils shaking as you settle yourself onto his lap “keep a look out over my shoulder, try to find our guy. this is the only way we don’t get caught” Taking an inhale you move you lips to his neck, his hand slam onto the seat either side of him. “am only kissing your neck okay? we won’t stick out and you can still see everyone around” You get out your reason, it really was life or death if you were caught out, who knows what could happen? So, you suck up your pride and gently place a kiss beneath his ear. You hear him suck on a breath, most likely surprised but you continue. Placing another kiss in the spot you then move more towards his throat, sucking at a certain spot this time. His hands fly to your waist making you jump but you carry on. You move back up to below his ear, getting a little carried away lick a little strip up his skin ending at his ear. Another sigh escapes his lips and you grip his shoulders as you focus back onto the base of his throat. You can feel him swallow over your lips and you change between gentle kisses and sucking.

“fuck y/n stop” You detach your lips from him but don’t move to lean up

“what did you spot him?” His grip tightens on your waist as he shakes his head no “don’t tell me stop then we’re gonna look suspicious” Most of the club goers were mostly undressed now, if you were just sat here talking you really were about to get caught. You move your head back down but Jungkook moves his head away from your reach making you huff “i know this isn’t ideal but it’s for the mission! do you want us dead? why the fuck-”

“iam fucking hard y/n” He grits out as his head whips back in your direction, his breathing hard as he pushes you tighter against his lap and then you feel it. He is hard. “iam hard okay, that’s why i told you to fucking stop” He whispers under his breath before he leans his head back against the booth. You’re stunned, hands gripping his shoulders tightly. You should’ve probably got off his lap, ended the mission and gone home. But you stayed put, why? It turned you on, it ashamed you to admit it to yourself but god were you so turned on. All you did was suck on his neck and he was hard, were you that touch starved that you’d happily sit here and tease Jungkook- your enemy, rival even? Yes, you were. Slowly, one of your hands moved from his shoulder to his chest. His head flings up from the booth to look up at you on his lap “what are you doing?”

“staying in character” You whisper before sliding your hand from his chest to his stomach. He inhales hard as he watches you, his own hands sliding from your waist to smooth along your exposed thighs. It was like you were in a trance, everything about the man beneath you annoyed every bone in your body. But as he looks up at you, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he grips your thighs? You have no hate, just lust. With your fingers resting above his belt, you lean forward making Jungkook release his bottom lip from his teeth. You edge closer, your bottom lip grazing his top lip

“party’s over!” A loud voice makes the pair of you jump, you stand from his lap breathing heavy as you notice everyone putting their clothing back on in a haste and running out of the club. You hear a distance siren of a cop car making you and Jungkook share a look before he stands and grips your wrist pulling you off towards the back entrance.

The y/l/n Estate

Jungkook

You stand quietly beside him as the pair of you ride the lift to your wing of the mansion. Your red lip stick smudged, most of it over his neck, as you keep your eyes looking in front of you. Jungkook’s head is filled with the feeling of you sucking on his neck, specifically the spot under his ear. He can still feel it making his jaw tighten, the doors of the lift open and you rush out and walk ahead not looking back. He follows shortly after, making his way to his room but he stops at the door and turns his head in your direction. His eyes travel down and stares at your legs as the sound of your heels clicking on the hardwood floor fill his ears. Once you round the corner he finally tears his gaze from your direction and he roughly opens the door and slams it behind him. He leans against, closing his eyes as he sighs. Images of you on his lap, hand moving down his chest flash into his mind and his eyes snap open. Pushing himself of the door, he grips his tie loosening the knot before pulling it off over his head. Undoing the top button of his shirt, he walks into the en-suite and turns the light on. He turns to the mirror, he sees your lipstick smudged on his neck and as he leans forward he spots a more deeper mark below his ear. a hickey. A low chuckle escapes him

“you sure had fun” He mumbles to himself, aimed at you, before turning on the tap and grabbing a wash cloth. Running it under the tap he lifts it to his neck before stopping. His hand hovers over the lipstick marks with the cloth but he just stares at them through the mirror. He dick grows hard underneath his trousers and he scoffs at himself before throwing the cloth into the sink and turning off the tap. Jungkook grips the sides of the marble sink as his head flops and he looks down. Great, the mere sight of your lipstick on him gets him hard and he couldn’t even bring himself to wipe the shit off. Shaking his head he walks off and turns the light off before going back into the bedroom to get changed. Undoing the buttons of his shirt he rips it off his shoulders before throwing it on the floor before undoing his belt and taking off his trousers and chucking the clothing next to his shirt. He slides under the sheets, resting his head against the pillows as he stares at the ceiling. Jungkook couldn’t comprehend the mixed feelings roaming around his body, you’re the heir to his rival family and one of the people he should hate the most but the simple feeling of you sucking on his neck got him the hardest he’s ever been in probably the quickest time too. It was sick really, to feel that way knowing what he’s done- what he did. He shouldn’t feel regret or guilt, he did what he had to for his job. But he did, fuck he really did. As he lay there, under your roof, staring mindlessly at the ceiling he came to terms with it. He didn’t exactly hate you, no he just acted as he should towards the rival families heir. He acted that way because he hated what he did, hated that you could know. You could know exactly what he did but you never tried to get back at him, never tried to get revenge like any other mafia member would after knowing what he did. He’s lived on the edge, waiting for that revenge but you never did anything… So he assumed you didn’t know, but surely you did? It was confusing, no one hid what he did yet you never confronted him. He loathed not knowing. His thoughts halt when he hears feet padding against the floor, right past his door and in the direction of the kitchen. It was you, of course it was this was your wing it was only you and him here. Huffing he rips the covers off himself and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s grabbing a pair of joggers and slipping them on before opening the door and heading in your direction. His expression is fierce as he stalks to the kitchen, the door is open and the lights off but he knows you’re in there, he can hear a drink being poured into a glass. You hear him before you see him, he knows it because your body tenses as he looks at your back. Wordlessly, you slide a glass of scotch from in front of you to your side on the counter before you walk around the counter and grab another glass, pouring another before sipping at it. You still haven’t looked at him, but he keeps his eyes on you as he walks forward and sips from the glass you offered out to him. It takes a couple of minutes before you look up at him, his eyes meet yours and he notices your gaze slip to his neck. Clearing your throat, you turn away and bend to a low cabinet. Jungkook’s jaw locks when the baggy shirt you’re wearing rides up and he notices a lack of shorts underneath the top. You stand, fresh cloth in your hand you run it under the tap quickly before turning back in his direction. Raising your hand over the counter you offer him the cloth but he refused to move, choosing to stand still. Sighing, you move around the counter standing directly in front of him raising the cloth up to his neck you gasp when he catches your wrist in his hand.

“don’t” He mumbles out as he stares down at you, his gaze drifts down to your lips before pulling back up to your eyes. You stay frozen as he silently looks at you, his adams apple bobbling as he swallows nothing. In one swift movement he pulls you into him with the wrist he’s gripping, you stumble forward dropping the cloth. It hits the floor as his other hand lifts your hold the side of your face.

“what the fuck are you doing?” You finally speak, through gritted teeth but he doesn’t move nor does he release his grip on you

“would you have carried on?” He tilts his head, questioning you, he notices your breath catch in your throat “how far would you have gone? if the police didn’t show?” Jungkook adds onto the end, not really expecting you to answer “what did you call it?” He whispers, lowering his head to your ear as his hand on your cheek moves to grip the side of your neck “staying in character?” His breath fans over your ear and he takes not how you shiver slightly “let’s see how good of an actress you really are” With that he pulls back and let’s go of you only to grip the back of your thighs as he lifts you up. Your hands fly to his shoulders to keep balance as he moves you on top of the kitchen top. His lips attaches to your neck, sucking beneath your ear making a gasp leave your lips. Jungkook smiles when he feels your head move to the side, giving him better access to your skin.

“i really fucking hate you” You grumble out making him chuckle against you

“feelings mutual sweetheart” A deep moan escapes him when your fingers attach to the waist of his joggers, pulling him tighter between your legs. His lips go back to attack you neck, sucking little marks wherever he could making you sigh

“you better not be leaving any marks Jeon” He leans away, looking at the trail he’s left from the top of your collarbone to near your ear

“don’t look in any mirrors” You grumble but he doesn’t care, he moves his hands up your thighs and underneath your shirt, playing with the fabric of your underwear

“you really piss me off” He smirks before pulling at the fabric before letting it go to fling back onto your skin making you jolt

“good” Is all he says before sliding his hands into your underwear, his middle finger brushing over your clit making your head lean back as you let out a moan. “got anything else to say?” He offers, running a finger over your entrance before running it back over you clit. “no?” Jungkook asks again but you just whine as he circles his finger over you “didn’t think so” He grumbles before using his middle finger to push into you making you moan and grip onto his shoulders.

He breathes heavily as he pulls out of you, head resting in the crook of your neck as he comes down from his high. Jungkook goes to plant a final kiss on your neck but is stopped when you push yourself of the counter and plant your feet on the floor. He starts redressing himself but as he does so, you take off and rush out of the kitchen. He turns to call for you but he stops himself. Mumbling a fuck under his breath he ties the string on his joggers before leaving the kitchen and stomping back to his room. With the door closed he flops onto the bed, thoughts filled with you. He lost control and that alone feels him with dread. It takes a a good hour of tossing and turning to finally get him to sleep.

He was wide awake as soon as sunlight hit the room in the morning. Groaning, he sat up before his phone ringing made him jump, leaning over he checks the caller id before answering it

“what do you want?” He huffs down the line

“well that isn’t a very nice greeting” Namjoon mumbles down the line, a small smile appearing on Jungkook’s lips. “how’s new york?”

“it’s” He searches for a word “fine” Not exactly an accurate description but he goes with it

“so life across the enemy lines is going good?” Jungkook didn’t necessarily want to be reminded at he was indeed rooming with his enemies, especially after what he did with a certain one of them last night

“it’s bliss namjoon, what do you want me to say?” He hears his friend laughs down the line

“alright snappy. just wanted to know how it was going? found that new group?” Jungkook gets out of the bed, moving over to the window. He peaks from behind the curtain and halts when he spots you “hello? you there?” Namjoon’s voice speaks down the line but Jungkook keeps his eyes trained on you. You’re seemingly doing yoga, in tight shorts and a sports bra

“uh yeah” He clears his throat “we have a confirmed name and some information on him” Jungkook leans closely to the window as you lean forward, your ass in his direction

“great work, shouldn’t be long until you squash this” Jungkook hums in response, not entirely listening as you lay on your stomach. “y/n annoying the shit out of you?” The mention of your name draws his attention back to the conversation as he watches you push against the floor bending your back from your led position

“more than you know” Jungkook grumbles before closing the curtain and moving away from the window. He hears Namjoon chuckle down the phone

“yeah thought so. Look, i’ll pick you up from the airport when you get back. Just let me know when you’re on your way yeah?”

“sure, see you then man” Namjoon mumbles out a goodbye and hang ups. Jungkook throws his phone onto the bed as he gets a suit together to put on.

The y/l/n Estate

Y/n

You were up earlier then normal this morning, thoughts jumbled about having sex with your sole enemy. It kept you up for ages, you should’ve regretted it and never thought of it again. But, stupidly, it was the greatest sex you’d ever had and it was him: Jeon Jungkook. The most annoying, irritating man you ever had the unfortunate opportunity of knowing. For god sake he was the heir to your rival fucking family and all you could think about was the feeling of his hands roaming over you in the darkness of your kitchen. So, with those thoughts still swirling around your mind at the ass cracked of dawn you got out of bed to try and exercise the vivid memory away. It didn’t work. So, you stride back into the mansion- an angry expression painting your face.

“you’re looking more angry then usual this morning” You look over to your Grandfather, walking out of his wing with a smile on his face.

“hm, not angry” He looked to you, not believing a word that came from your lips. Well, he always saw through you he basically raised you how could he not? “just, didn’t sleep well last night” It wasn’t exactly a lie, just wasn’t the whole truth either

“sleep is important darling.” You nod to agree as he indicates for you to follow him as he walks through the mansion “how’s the job going?”

“good. we have a name and some information. but our last mission failed, we didn’t get a confirmed sighting” He nods as the pair of you walk in the main living area, he takes a seat on the cream sofa and you join him

“well, you and Jungkook are the best. you’ll get it done” You smile at his encouragement, for a feared mafia boss he sure was soft. Sighing, you lean down and plant your head on his leg.

“just want to make you proud” Your Grandfather chuckles above you before smoothing his hand over your head.

“you’ve already made me so proud y/n” Your eyes flutter closed, suddenly emotional at the sudden heart to heart. “Mr Jeon” The sudden greeting makes your eyes snap open, you see him stood in the entrance of the living room. His hands tucked into his pockets as he looks over. Sitting up you watch as he walks a little bit closer to the both of you

“sorry to intrude, i just needed a word with y/n” Your Grandfather smiles over at you, you offer a small one back before standing and leaving the main living area. You hear Jungkook’s footsteps behind you and you stop in the foyer of the mansion, turning to his direction.

“what do you need?” He raised an eyebrow at you as he shifts his weight between on his legs

“last night”

“iam on the implant if that’s what you’re worried about” You cut him off, one of the thoughts that kept coming back to your mind was the fact no protection was used. It wasn’t hard to assume that a guy like him would be worrying about the risks

“good to know, that wasn’t what i was about to say. you’d know that if you didn’t interrupt me” You glare at him, staying quiet. Honestly, you didn’t want to talk about last night ever again. “wanna talk about it?”

“no” With that you turn on your heels and begin to walk away, you don’t get very far before you feel his hand grip your upper arm. You huff as he stops your movement and comes to stand in front of you once again.

“you’re testing my patience”

“you’re also testing your luck, get out of my way” You go to move but his grip tightens on your arm

“that smart little mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble” Letting out a dry chuckle you look up at him

“i know something little of yours too, don’t think it’s gonna get you into much trouble though” You glance downwards to his crotch before looking back up, smirk etched onto your face

“didn’t hear you complaining about size last night” It was quiet then, silence engulfing the pair of you as you stare at each other his grip on your arm tightening a little

“let go of me Jeon” You mumble through your teeth

“stop being a bitch and i will” Huffing you push on his chest, catching him by surprise, you tear your arm from him and stumble back.

“i want to forget it ever happened. let’s get rid of this fucking new group and get back to our lives” Jungkook’s breathing grows heavy as he stares at you, his teeth clenched together.

“fine” He grumbles before pushing past you and heads out of the main doors of the mansion leaving you alone in the foyer. You hand no idea where he was going, you didn’t even know if he knew his way around New York but you refused to have an ounce of care about him. Turning, you’re about to go to the lift to retreat to your room but your feet don’t make it far before they stop. Closing your eyes you take a deep breath before turning on your heels and storming over to the doors. You pull them open and stomp out you see nothing in front of you but spot him leant against the wall of the mansion out the corner of your eye, cigarette hanging from his lips. “awh, caring enough to see where iam sweetheart?” Rolling your eyes your turn to face

“just making sure you don’t get yourself killed, don’t wanna start a war over your stupid ass” He chuckles before taking a long drag and blowing out the smoke. There’s a moment of silence as you move to stand next to him, you’re not sure why you do it but for some reason there’s just a strong pull between you and him. It was unexplainable, at this point you didn’t even try and justify your actions. Jungkook lifts the cigarette in your direction, you glance at him before taking and placing it between your lips to have a drag “my Grandfather might kill me if he sees me smoking” You admit, blowing out the smoke before taking another drag

“hm, doubtful. he adores you” Raising an eyebrow at him, you hand the cigarette back to him. “dont pretend he doesn’t” You look down at your feet, smile on your lips

“yeah, guess he does”

“count yourself lucky” He mutters, taking a final drag before flicking the end away onto the ground. Your curiosity peaks at his words

“you saying your father doesn’t adore you?” An empty laugh makes its way out of his throat, you can’t help it, you feel sorry for him

“don’t feel sorry for me” Your eyes snap to him, his own already looking at you. “i can see it, your sympathy is very evident”

“would never feel sorry for you. i relate to your father” It wasn’t true, which is why he smirked at your comment. Clearly you felt sorry for him, the look of pity so evident on your face. This atmosphere was foreign for you too, it was almost peaceful as the two of you stood in silence gazing out into the long driveway of your estate. It was confusing for you, comfortably stood next the person you supposedly hate the most yet the same person you had sex with last night. Sighing, you push off the wall making Jungkook look at you. He startles you as he lift his hand up to you, brushing your hair over your shoulder before tilting his head. Just the way he did last night before he hoisted you onto your kitchen counter.

“lucky you have long hair sweetheart, wouldn’t want your Grandfather to see what the son of his rival did to you” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion before they widen in realisation. A hand flies up to your own neck, remembering what he left there last night.

“asshole” You mumble before storming back into the mansion, hearing him chuckle behind you. moving your hair over your neck as you rush to the lift and press the button to your wing.

For the entire rest of the day you lock yourself up in your office, furiously tapping on your laptop. The last mission was a failure and you were more determined then ever to put an end to this ‘new group’ that seemed to have your Grandfather and Jungkook’s dad so edge they decided to team up. The more you searched into the name you had, the more confused you grew. There were no confirmed sightings of him for over four months, it was like he completely disappeared. His real name nor aliases weren’t on any rent agreements in the United States or Europe. No bank cards in his name has been used anywhere, neither had any new accounts been set up. Everything you looked into had turned up empty, it was infuriating. A set of knocks on the door draws your attention away and before you can say come in, Jungkook bursts through the door. Crossing your arms you watch as he casually closes the door and strolls in before sitting on the seat opposite you

“why knock if you’re just gonna walk in?” He shrugs, nonchalantly before leaning back in the chair.

“found anything interesting?” You sigh, leaning back in your own chair

“this man is fully incognito, no bank cards being used, no houses under his name.” Jungkook takes a moment to think, it was incredibly unusual.

“what’s the most recent activity from him?”

“a card under his name was used at that sex club four months ago. that’s it” He leans forward, a certain look on his face

“check death records” You narrows your eyes, this man couldn’t possibly be dead. The pair of you have been sent on a mission to find him, your Grandfather and is Father would definitely know if he died. “just check” He seemed to have sensed your confusion, sighing you open your laptop and begin to search. First, you look at New York’s records- setting up a program to automatically scan through each areas records, looking for his name. You wait in silence, not expecting a lot but in a few moments your laptop makes a noise and your eyes widen. “what?” Jungkook rushes out before getting on his feet and hovering behind you to look at your screen

“he’s dead, apparently ” You get out, looking up at him at the same time he looks down at you. This was impossible, did he fake his death? was he really dead and did your Grandfather know already that? “i need a drink” You grumble before standing and immediately walking to the kitchen, not even stopping to tell Jungkook to get out of your office. Not that it mattered, he followed you anyway. You rip the top off your now half empty scotch, getting two glasses out of the cupboard before pouring the drink into both glasses. Jungkook is suddenly beside you and you lift the glass to him, he takes it. Tipping the glass to your mouth, you gulp a generous amount before leaning against the side.

“i think we drink too much” Jungkook suggests making you chuckle a little as he sips on his own drink. “what do you think, fake death or we were sent on a dead mission?” You inhale a deep breath before shrugging

“don’t even want to think about it” He nods and you finish of your glass, in the quiet Jungkook surprises you when he lifts his hand up and moves your hair over your shoulder just as he did earlier. Glancing at him, you watch as he eyes the marks on your neck. “you’re getting a good kick out of these hickeys ain’t you” He smiles, tucking some stray hairs behind your ear. It’s strangely intimate. Without any words his hand fingers smooth over the marks, running down your neck. Placing his glass on the side he moves to stand in front you, hands gripping either side of the counter behind you.

“does this kitchen turn you into a raging sex maniac?” He lightly laughs, leaning into you a bit more.

“it’s not the kitchen, it’s the annoying bitch stood in it” You should’ve been offended, but you were far from it as you meet his dark gaze. This was wrong in so many ways, but right now you didn’t have time to think about it. As you stare up at him, you realise his lips never actually met yours during your escapade the previous night. He seems to be have the same train of thought as his eyes dip to your lips

“no ones ever annoyed me more then you” You let out through a sigh as his lowers his head, his lips just grazing over your own

“good, then iam doing my job” He mumbles, then his lips press into yours groaning as he does so. It’s softer then you thought it was going to be, you expected fast and furious but it was gentle and slow. His hands move from the counter to your waist and pulls you flush against him making you whimper. His tongue moves between your lips, meeting with your own as he deepens the kiss. Your hands fly up to his neck, you feel him sigh against you. This was bad, before now your night could be left at a crazy one time thing but now his lips danced with you’re own, something deeper grew. You’ve never felt like this, heart beat going crazy as he towered over you. Feelings of hatred dissolve into something you couldn’t really pin point. He breaks the kiss and moves down to your neck, planting kisses on the marks he made on you. You moan as he sucks over them, probably deepening them as he does so.

“who knew you were into such childish things like hickeys?” You feel his lips smile against before planting a kiss over his work

“want everyone to know what you’re letting your rival do to you behind closed doors” Rolling your eyes you turn back to look up at him, heavy breaths being exchanged between you both.

“we’re playing a dangerous game” You couldn’t help but mumble out your concerns, if any of your families knew what you were up to it was done for. Jungkook seemed to halt at your words, realising something you couldn’t tell but it was enough to make him pull away.

“you’re right” Your left in shock as he walks backwards before retreating out of the kitchen, you don’t think as you follow him. You finally came to terms with the fact you felt something other then hatred for him, he kissed you and now he was running away.

“what just happened?!” You huff out as you trail behind him down your hallway, he turns to face you and you don’t stop until you’re right in front of him

“i agree, it’s too dangerous” He shrugs and you look at him, confused. You had just opened your eyes to the fact you wanted him, needed to feel him against you again and he runs away over a little comment?

“it was a passing comment!” Jungkook says nothing and you grow frustrated, the look on his face was unreadable. “i don’t just kiss anyone Jeon. you can’t just do what you did and run away from me!”

“well iam!” He’s suddenly shouting and it makes you jump “just forget it y/n, iam not doing this!”

“doing what?!” You raise you’re own voice now, too many emotions build up in you and it’s hard to hold them down

“we hate each other” His voice is now low and calm, almost giving you whiplash “that’s how it stays” He turns then and marches straight into his room, slamming the door behind him. You stare at the door, you were enraged but all you could think about was how- you don’t hate him, not anymore. You really wanted to, wanted to turn back to just a couple of days ago when you didn’t feel this way. But you couldn’t, so you simply walk past the door and straight to your room.

The y/l/n Estate

Jungkook

He hadn’t slept for more then a few hours each day for the past week, his last conversation with you swirled around his mind tormenting him. What made it worse was that he kept thinking about the kiss, that fucking kiss. Your lips moulded against his perfectly, almost like you were made for him. The irony. In reality, you weren’t made for him you were made to be his rival and with everything he’s done he couldn’t bring himself to carry on. Your comment last night clearly wasn’t about anything serious but it made his brain jump into gear. How could he possibly carry on with whatever the two of you were doing? He seemed to have forgotten all the bad blood he created not too long ago. The worst part was he wanted to carry on, it was like you had a magnet inside you personally for him. But he couldn’t suppress his suspicion of you’re motives. Sure, you seemed to want him as much as he did you but why? Did you have ulterior means? Bottom line was that he couldn’t trust you, it was still possible you knew everything he’s done and this was all some ruse to catch him off guard. Then his brain would remind him he actually came onto you first and his whole mental debate would start again. Although now he’s already been with you, it would be hard to let you go now he knew how it felt. He slipped out of the bed, heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Silently he cleaned his teeth, brain still filled with the thought of having to work with you, having to see you, talk to you. Finishing up he moves back to his bedroom, jumping in fright when he spots you stood in the room. It was the first time he’s seen you since he ran away, middle of making out

“y/n what the fu-”

“just shut up Jeon” Your tone was ice cold, opposite from the playful one you sported since having that smoke with him last week. “that guy is really dead. gone, buried, six feet under” Clearly you were angry, arms crossed over your chest. He allows himself to glance over your body, you’re wearing your usual large shirt and he found himself wondering if you were wearing shorts this time. He breaks away from that thought

“how are you so sure?” You scoff at this and stomp to his bed, sitting on the edge of it, right leg bounce rapidly

“i saw his fucking autopsy! little picture of the body was attached and all, killed four months ago. wanna know the best part?” He had to admit right now, he was a little scared of you. Your eyes were dark with fury and he worried for anyone who’d step in you way today “he died out at sea, with a shipment of stolen guns. the way he supposedly died? strangulation” The realisation hits him, that was his fathers famous method of killing. He connects the dots quickly, there was a new group rising- four months where his father took care of the problem. Not a threat anymore.

“my father sent me on a dead mission.” He mumbles, rage slowly filling him as thinks about his smug father back at home probably laughing at his son trying to solve an already finished job.

“no, not just your father my grandfather did too. it was his coroner that signed off the autopsy” That shocked him more then his father, your grandfather actually loved you. He couldn’t say the same about his father.

“but you hacked the cams, we saw that group with the smgs?” You shrug at this before flipping back onto his bed, he spotted black fabric. Shorts. Although he was seething, he was revealed you had something on underneath the shirt this time

“it was recorded footage Jeon. Planted in the codes my Grandfather gave me. we’ve been hustled” Sighing he sits next to you on the bed, mainly because he couldn’t stand staring at your bare thighs. At least from beside you his gaze wasn’t naturally towards you.

“but why? what’s the fucking reason for sending us on a pointless job?” You don’t answer, sitting up suddenly. Jungkook stares at you as you abruptly stand, he turns his head upwards trying to ignore your ass that was now eye level with him.

“well, at least you can go home now.” You move to leave but Jungkook’s quicker, he leaps in front of you making you stop

“am not leaving” Giving him a blank stare you try to step around him, but he steps in front of you again.

“get out of my way and go home” You grit out before stepping to the other side but once Jungkook plants himself in front of you. “move” He doesn’t, just looks down at you as you seethe up at him. Jungkook doesn’t know why he’s being stubborn, this was what he wanted right? To leave whatever you two did behind and fly back home as soon as he could? But with that now being an actual option, he didn’t want to. “what the fuck is your problem huh? you don’t have to work with me anymore, don’t have to live with me anymore. can go home knowing you screwed the enemy in her own kitchen, bet that one will get you a couple of pats on the back from your mates!” Hearing enough here bends and quickly lifts you over his shoulders, you gasp and try to wiggle your way out but his grip his tight as he throws you onto the bed. You go to sit up but he pushes you back down, holding your wrists above your head as he hovers over you

“i can assure my mates will never know any details of what we did in that kitchen. that’s only for me to know, i’ll fucking kill anyone who even thinks about you in that way!” He breathes heavily as he stares down at you, the shirt you have on had ridden up your legs making your shorts poke out.

“spoken real possessively for someone who hates me!”

“i don’t hate you!” His grip tightens on your wrist and you stare up at him with wide eyes

“then why did you run?! why did you say you did?!”

“because i killed your fucking father!” Silence. Just the sound of both your breathing filled it. You seemed confused, to say the least.

“i know” You whisper, his stare is intense as he lets go of your wrists hands moving to sit upright on the bed once again. He was surprised, finally he had confirmation that you knew exactly what he did last year. Yet, you did nothing to avenge your father.

“i killed your father and you do nothing? what i did should’ve started another war between our families” He grew quiet, he felt vulnerable but he’s held this in long enough. “why? what are you planning y/n?” Jungkook hated how his voice faltered, the only reason he dreaded the thought of this job was because he assumed as soon as he was here he’d be dead. He killed your father, in cold blood and your family hadn’t even tried to get back at him

“revenge?” You finally get out “i would’ve thanked you if you gave me the chance” Jungkooks pupils shake as he looks down at you, sighing you move to sit up. “my father was an awful, awful man. sure what mafia leader isn’t but, he went above and beyond. he lead prostitution rings, beat anyone who he deemed worthy of it. men, women, children. i hated him, never even spoke to him since the day i turned eighteen, the day he tried to sell me to the ring” He tenses, he would throw his own daughter into a prostitution ring? “my grandfather stopped him, took me and i’ve been with him ever since. we stayed in London because my father would just track us down anyway, the day i found out he was dead? happiest day of my life” Jungkook noticed the small smile on your lips as you speak, you genuinely were glad he was dead. His body felt light, the entire year he waited to see you appear and take him out. Only for you to be happy he killed your father?

“he was my first kill” You seemed shocked at his confession, you’d assume he had killed others being an heir to his fathers business “it’s why my father doesn’t engage with me, probably thinks iam soft. had nightmares for a while afterwards” You place a hand on his back, attempting to comfort him but you remove it too quickly for his liking

“don’t lose anymore sleep over him, not worth it. it’s good he’s gone” Jungkook leans back on his hands as he eyes you

“what the fuck happened to us?” You laugh, a proper genuine laugh and he thinks it’s the first time he’s ever heard it.

“i don’t know but you still piss me off more then anyone” He smirks at this, still eyeing you. “stop looking at me Jeon, giving me the fucking creeps” Barking out a laugh he suddenly grips your leg and hoists you onto his lap. You fumble and grip his shoulders as he looks up at you.

“why don’t you just shut up and use that pretty mouth for something other then shouting profanities at me?”

“profanities? that’s a long word for you Jeon” He grumbles before leaning up to press his lips to yours but you lean away. “don’t” Is all you say before standing off him and he hates the way his body yearns to pull you back “you have sex with me, try to again but run out because you killed my father and thought i might be planning some sort of revenge? you can’t trust me and honestly, i can’t trust you either” His tongue pokes against his cheek, getting annoyed. Sure everything you said was correct, but he couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t going to lie to himself, not anymore, there was a clear attraction. He felt a pull to you like no one else, that much was obvious with how easily you got him hard

“you don’t trust me but you opened your legs for me?” He regretted it as soon as he said it, your face contorted and he felt so fucking stupid for uttering those words “no i-”

“fuck you” You cut him off and storm out the room but he’s quick on his feet to follow you, slipping on the hard floor when he tumbles out the door and rushes to stand in front of you.

“wait”

“no!” He flinches “you need to go back to London and never even think about showing your face in New York again” You side step him but he grips your arms and you start to try and wriggle out of his grip.

“iam not going anywhere y/n!” He gets out while struggling to keep you in his hands “i’ll stay here for forever if i have to!” You stop moving then, looking at him as if he was mad and right now he felt like he was.

“are you crazy?!” Jungkook shrugged, more or less confirming to both you and himself that he probably has gone crazy.

“maybe, but i need you to understand me when i say- i can’t go back like nothings happened” You stumbled back a little bit he kept his hold of your arms. “yeah, maybe i’ve gone mad. but no one makes me feel the way you do. i normally have perfect control of myself but suddenly i don’t have control of shit because of you!” He felt so stupid, you probably more then just hated him right now and he was teetering along the edge of a love confession.

“what the fuck are you on about?!” You get out through gritted teeth and his upper lip twitched in annoyance.

“iam not going anywhere until you get your head out of your ass and realise we have something between us!” Your eyes widen, and mock chuckle escaping your lips

“you’re full of shit Jeon” A low rumble comes out of his throat before his grip on your arm to push your back against the wall beside you.

“i’ve had enough of this y/n” His voice is calm and low “we will find out why we’ve been sent on a dead job and then we will talk like grown ups about what’s going on between us” With that, he drops his grip on your arms and steps back. Giving a final look he turns and begins to retreat to his room, his heart heavy as he does so.

Albany, New York

Y/n

The bartender slid another wine in your direction, you nod your head as a thank you, not really wanting to speak right now. You had left the mansion as soon as you got dressed after the heated conversation with Jungkook. It had been hours since you left, not wanting to be under the same roof as him. Most of the day was spent at the movies, you watched about three movies before the staff began to look at you weird so you retreated off and ate dinner before stalking off to any bar that was open. You were on your third wine, deciding to nurse this one you only take a small sip before placing it back on top the bar. Not only did the whole ordeal with him stick on your mind, you were also thinking about your grandfather and that stupid dead fucking mission he made you attend to. You wanted answers, wanted to storm up to your grandfather demanding answers. But right now, you couldn’t. Jungkook had filled your thoughts, his stupid idea that there was something between you two. No, you were the stupid one because deep down you foolishly agreed. Of course there was, you weren’t blind to your emotions, you happily slept with him as soon as his lips touched your neck. Even before then, during the night of the pointless mission you went to go further after he admitted he was hard. There was something deeply wrong with you, you concluded. You were sat here, sulking over your attraction to your enemy, the very person you hated not that long ago. Sighing, you gulp down the whole glass of wine before shoving some money on the bar and leaving. The cold air of the night bit your skin making you shiver slightly before you walked off. You knew you couldn’t go home, not with Jungkook and your Grandfather there. Both the conversations you needed to have with them could wait, you walked to a nearby hotel glad to have entered and be out of the chilly night. The receptionist smiled when she noticed you coming and you mustered up the best one you could for her

“do you have any rooms? just for tonight” You ask, folding your arms across your chest

“i’ll just double check for you, it might be a bit pricey seems as it’s not pre booked” She warns and you nod, indicating it was okay. You’d pay any price to just be out of the mansion. Your phone vibrates in your pocket, not the first time today, you ignore it knowing who it was. “ok, i have a room available it’s-” You simply hand your card to her, making her stop her sentence. She gives another smile before putting it through the system and handing you it back with a room key “enjoy your stay”

“thank you” Checking the room number you head straight to it, looking around finally you took note that this was quite a fancy place which probably did cost a fortune. But, that was just a plus of being the granddaughter of a mafia boss. Jamming the key in the door it gives a little beep telling you it’s open and you walk in. A nice double bed and pretty view greet you, but you didn’t care about the look of the room. You just wanted to sleep a forget everything so you take of your clothes leaving your underwear and slip under the covers.

It couldn’t have been more then three hours later when a commotion outside your door jolted you awake. Loud voices and a banging against your door made your heart rate pick up, you were still a little drowsy from sleep but you jumped up and yanked the gun from your handbag.

“sir! you can’t go in!” You assumed that voice was a security guard, and you quickly slipped on the complimentary robe keeping your gun tight in your grip. This could be anyone, enemy of your fathers or grandfather and without the protection of your mansion- this could have been their perfect opportunity to pounce. Another bang against your door made you aim your gun directly at the door as your etched closer. “hey! i said you can’t-”

“i don’t give a fuck!” Your head tilted, was that Jungkook? “open this fucking door you imbecile i know her!” Yeah, it was definitely him alright. Sighing you drop the gun onto the bed and stomp over to the door.

“i told you i can’t do that, i’ll call the police!” You gave mental props to the security, Jungkook was a scary guy but he wasn’t letting up

“call them then! but iam not leaving until-” Swinging the door open you’re met with a furious Jungkook who stops arguing when you open the door.

“iam sure the other people staying don’t appreciate the yelling” That only seemed to piss Jungkook off even more as he storms pass you and into the room. The security makes a move to go after him but you raise your hand. “it’s fine thank you for keeping him out but, unfortunately, i know him” You hear him scoff behind you as he paces the room “sorry for the disturbance” The guard looks at Jungkook over your shoulder one more time before looking back and offering a smile before he walks off, you sigh and shut the door. “have you lost your mind?” Your turn and walk over and he stops pacing to look at you

“have you?! you disappear all fucking day without a word and don’t come back! anything could’ve happened, do you remember who you are? who your grandfather is? anyone could be out for your neck and you’re here without protection!” Oh he was seething, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so angry. He’s visibly shaking, veiny hands waving around with each word he shouts

“well, you couldn’t get in so would say iam relatively safe” That was probably the wrong thing to say, no it definitely was- his jaw locks and he stares at you with an indescribable emotion.

“i’ve been looking for you, all fucking day. at one point me and your grandfather had to discuss the fact that you might be dead!” You say nothing, you couldn’t. “when you are who you are, you don’t disappear without contact y/n!” He flings his hand in the air and you flinch, you weren’t scared of him but the sudden action made you do it. You notice his face soften and be sighs before sitting on the bed, momentarily looking down as your gun slides to his thigh. He chuckles “at least you have some brains on you to bring this”

“i bring it everywhere” You mumble, taking it from him and sliding it back into your purse before turning back to him. There was a moment of silence, you realise your mistake and that he was actually right- which pained you to admit. “iam sorry” You start and he looks up at you “my grandfather properly sent you through hell looking for me”

“you think he sent me? i was searching before he realised you were gone” This took you by surprise, why on earth would he break his neck looking for you if it wasn’t for your grandfather? You must look confused because he sighs and stands up. “i was looking because i was worried you dumbass” His sudden insult made you roll your eyes “i told you this morning that i thought there might be something between us and your first thought was to disappear, iam a bit offended to be honest” You try to suppress a smile that wants to appear, not wanting to find the man in front of you funny when he’s just tracked you down and tried to break into your room.

“stop trying to be funny” You grumble before sitting yourself in the chair in the corner of the room, he sits himself back on the bed “i just needed sometime to myself” You don’t know why you were explaining yourself, normally you wouldn’t but Jungkook did actually seem concerned

“you could’ve told me where you were, or your grandfather. with the lives we have, that’s important” You agree with him, you really do. But you’re human after all and just needed some time away.

“a lot was happening, all i did was go to the movies and then the bar” His head snapped in your direction make your jump a little

“you went to a bar?” You nod, confused “bring a man back here?” There was a beat of silence before you laugh while he glares at you

“you’re ridiculous”

“so you didn’t?”

“no!” He looked relieved and you couldn’t even fathom how you got into this situation with him. “would it matter if i did?” Jungkook’s stare was icy cold as he looked over at you.

“he would’ve been dead by sunrise” He seemed sincere and you didn’t know whether to swoon or be angry

“what’s gotten into you?” Your voice was calm, filled with pure confusion

“you. you have y/n. i realised something while i bent over backwards looking for you, i was scared.” This shocked you, him being so open with his emotions. You’d never seen him like this “look i don’t know what’s happening here, i dont understand myself but there’s something here. i feel something so deep for you and it’s so consuming” His voice is hoarse and your heart thumps against your chest. You understand him, you really do because ever since you slept with him you knew. Knew that even though you thought you still hated him, you don’t. It was different, it was weird and scary. But, nonetheless, it was there- whether it a sick attraction or some sort of love you didn’t know. But it would be stupid to deny it, when you so obviously felt it. You took a deep breath before standing, his eyes followed you. Without another word you untied your robe making Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly. You didn’t take it off, just let it swing open to reveal just your underwear underneath

“fine, there’s something” His teeth enclosed on his lower lip as you step closer, standing between his spread legs “iam done talking, we can finish the conversation in the morning” His hands come up, sliding underneath the fabric of the robe to grip onto your waist 

“that’s fine by me” Jungkook mumbles before his hands smooth over the curve of your ass before pulling you into him. You straddle him, knees digging into the bed either side of him, hands gripping his shoulders. He tilts his head up as you look down “don’t ever fucking disappear again” Is all he says before finally planting his lips against yours.

The sun was bleeding through the curtains as your eyes fluttered open, you didn’t immediately recognise your surroundings but remembered it was the hotel. What you also remembered was what you got up to last night with a certain mafia heir, the tattooed arm draped tightly over your stomach was reminder enough. Jungkook held you firmly against him as his head rested in the crook of your neck. A shiver slipped down your spine as you felt his breath hit your skin. It was still weird territory, the person who usually pisses you off the most, lay cuddled into your back. Surprisingly, you slept extremely well you’d never really shared a bed opting to not bring anyone to the estate. It was dangerous to do that so anyone you saw it stayed outside the mansion and you never stayed overnight. So, you welcomed the feeling of having something keeping you warm. You shift a little, trying to get comfortable enough to fall back asleep. You hear a groan from behind you, worried you woke Jungkook up you stop moving but he doesn’t saying anything so you shift ever so slightly trying to get cozy.

“hm please stop” You freeze when he grumbles out, morning voice deep and croaky.

“sorry i didn’t mean to wake you up” He hums, pulling you tightly against him before he smirks his hand over the top of your thigh

“well you wiggling your ass against me is not gonna keep me asleep” Your lips purse before their slipping upwards into a smile and you stare shifting again but with more of a purpose this time. He grips a handful of you upper thigh making you stop, smile now fully on your lips “you really enjoy pissing me off don’t you?”

“it’s my favourite hobby” He grumbles under his breath before sliding his hands back up to your waist

“and you’re so good at it” You chuckle at this before making a move to sit up but you don’t get very far, Jungkook holds you back down making you huff as your back hits the bed. “this is the nicest you’ve been to be ever, not really ready to put a stop to it yet”

“well, iam not a particularly nice person so get your ass up” Sighing he lets you sit up and he rolls onto his back

“and the dream ends” Rolling your eyes you push the covers off and stand up before you look around for the robe as you stand in your underwear. You whip your head around and spot Jungkook’s eyes staring right at you, raking his eyes up and down your body.

“pig” You mumble as you spot the robe thrown over the chair and you go over to grab it

“didn’t hear you complaining last night” Scoffing, you tie the robe around you before gathering your clothes and throwing them onto the bed. You pick up your top, pause and turn before launching it directly at the man in the beds head. His hands raise instinctively before ripping it off his face and throwing you a glare. “was that necessary?”

“yes, checkouts in half an hour get up”

“bitch” He mumbles and you stare at him, he gives a sarcastic smile before getting out of the bed and stretching.

“carry on calling me names Jeon, remember how easy it is for me to flip you over my shoulder” You know he remembers that day in your gym by the way he gives you a pointed look.

“caught me by surprise” He says under his breath as he begins gathering his own clothes and you chuckle to yourself

“sure, whatever helps you sleep at night” You bend to pick up your jeans from the bed as he circles his arm around your legs. He picks them up making you fall face first onto the bed making you gasp. Then, he flips you onto your back and you meet his smirk as he looks down at you.

“see, easy when you get caught off guard” You tilt your head, moving your hands to hold onto his neck. He seems to falter when you lift your legs to circle around his waist, pulling him tightly against you. Jungkook lowers his head to yours, you fan your lips over his and smile as his eyes flutter closed. Quickly, you twist his body and use your legs to drag in onto the bed next to you. You end up on top of him as his eyes fly open to look up at you.

“yeah you’re right” He huffs as you get up and untie your robe, starting to get dressed.

“show off” You laugh out loud as you slip on your jeans, zipping them up and popping the button closed. The pair of you dress quietly and he waits by the door while you check everything’s in your bag. When you’re happy, he opens the door and lets you walk first and you have to stifle a laugh when you get the the lobby and Jungkook has a stare off with the guard from last night.

“have a good stay?” A new receptionist asks as you hand the key back

“yes thank you” You smile and as you walk past the guard, you slip a couple notes from your bag and offer them to him. Jungkook side eyes you as the guard confusingly takes the money from your hand “a tip, well more of an apology for having to deal with him” The guy lets out a chuckle and Jungkook wraps an arm around your waist as he escorts you out of the hotel

“really?” He mumbles as he holds you close while the pair of you walk away and you simply laugh as a response.

The y/l/n Estate

Jungkook

He lets out a little smile when your grandfather runs up to you as the pair of you enter the foyer. When you had run off yesterday Jungkook was worried after only an hour, he ran around the Estate looking and when that search turned up empty he told your grandfather. Initially, he wasn’t as worried as Jungkook but after a couple hours he was shaken up. So, when Jungkook did find out where you were he told your grandfather and went storming to the hotel

“y/n darling!” He wraps his arms around you and Jungkook steps away momentarily to let him have his moment “where were you?! we were worried sick, you had Jungkook destroying the place!” His eyes widen when you look over at him, embarrassment creeping over his face as you grandfather rambled on. “we’re gonna have to redecorate that spare room because-”

“okay!” Jungkook gets out “iam just gonna freshen up” He lets out before rushing over to the lift and climbing in before he could hear your grandfather expose him further. He’ll admit, he did lose it around the fourth hour you were gone. By then, every scenario had run through his mind- kidnap, death and so on. As the lift made it to your wing, he made his way to his room and opened the door. It was truly wrecked and he grimaced as he looked around. A giant mirror was smashed to pieces, the drawers broken all over the floor. Not to mention the mattress was mostly off the bed from his foot booting it, sighing he tip toed around the mess to get further into the room to grab some fresh clothes.

“what the fuck happened in here?” He jumps, losing his foot and some glass crunches under his boot.

“jesus y/n!” You chuckle as you look around the torn up room and he turns his head away from you and pick up his chosen clothes

“my grandfather said you went on a rampage. miss me that much?” His upper lip twitched as he moved into the bathroom with his clothes, ignoring you. He hears some glass crunch behind him making his whip around as he catches you walking over to the en suite.

“be careful” Jungkook moves to the doorway and offers his hand, you take it as he keeps his eyes on your feet making sure nothing pierces through your trainers. He didn’t know when he started caring so much, but it was hard to stop at this point. Dropping your hand he turns and flips on the shower as you lean against the sink.

“i didn’t know you’d be worried, iam sorry” He was taken back by this, you were always strong willed and he wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t love it- because honestly he absolutely did.

“wasn’t even stressed dont worry about it” Of course he was being sarcastic and it made you laugh, he hated that he instantly smiled at the sound- this was not the usual dynamic but he knew that was long gone. Your head turns back into the destroyed room before turning back to him.

“yeah clearly not” You kicked some glass that was close to the door and it clatters “come to my office after your done, it’s time we find out why were hustled into this pointless job”

“you didn’t ask down there?” Jungkook had no time to even think about asking your grandfather about the dead job yesterday, well he was too busy wrecking the place and tracking you down to care.

“no, we should have this conversation together” And that’s just what they do, about hour later he, you and your grandfather sit in your office. Your grandfather seemed a little confused about why he was asked up here, seems he never really visited your office space.

“we know” Is all she says and Jungkook chooses to stay quiet, he knew he’d have to have this exact conversation with his father and he wasn’t particularly looking forward to it.

“know what darling?” He smiled at the cute nickname, loving how much this man adored you. Jungkook was starting to understand why he did so much.

“the job we’re doing, we know it isn’t real” Her grandfathers face falls and he shifts in his seat as she just looks at him and waits for an answer

“iam sorry sweetheart” He looked down, seemingly ashamed with himself. Jungkook could only wish to have someone who cared that much about his feelings, when he confronted his father he’d probably get a shoulder shrug and sent on his way.

“why?” You didn’t sound angry, just confused.

“me and Jungkook’s father made a deal” Jungkook’s eyes widen as does yours, the two biggest rivals in the mafia empire made a deal?

“you’ve been in contact with the Jeon family?” Jungkook rolls his eyes at your mention of his family, he didn’t think you meant much by it but you sounded a little disgusted.

“yes, iam sick and tired of this bloody rivalry. it was stupidly started by your father and i wanted to end it” Your eyebrow raise in shock as does Jungkook’s, this was a decade long war and your grandfather wanted to end it?

“where does our pointless job come into this?” You asks and your grandfather side eyes Jungkook next to him before looking back to you

“well, we decided that a good way for our families to bury the hatchet was to- join us together.” You blinked rapidly and Jungkook swore steam might’ve came out of your ears “we wanted you two to marry” Your eyes bulge and Jungkook has to stifle a laugh, deeming it not appropriate for this moment. You might have ripped his head clean of his shoulders if he did. “we knew you disliked each other, so we came up with the idea to have you work together. maybe that way you could get closer.” The thought of his father agreeing to this shocked Jungkook, he’d assumed he would just try and force the two of you together. He had no patience for things like this.

“with respect, that is the stupidest thing i’ve ever heard” Her grandfather shrugged at her with a pout

“worked didn’t it?” Jungkook actually did laugh at this, your grandfather was just so funny he couldn’t help it. No one would believe this man was feared by thousands. You whipped your head in his direction, throwing your hands up in exasperation

“oh you find this funny?” Jungkook shrugs, similarly to how your Grandfather did as his laughter dies down. You lean back in your chair, sighing and he could tell you were trying not to smile. “i can’t believe you put a whole scheme together” She says to her grandfather, luckily the plan did actually work otherwise this whole conversation might have involved a lot more shouting

“i know, i truly am sorry. we won’t force a marriage. but with how he reacted to you being gone for a couple hours, i’d say a marriage for you is inevitable” Jungkook frowns in your grandfathers direction, not enjoying being exposed by him.

“honestly i think burying the rival is a good idea, but not with marriage”

“why?” Jungkook surprised himself with his own question, you and your grandfather look over at him in sync making him grow embarrassed

“what you want to get married?” He looks up in thought, the silence making you shake your head “Jeon!” You shout making him jump and your Grandfather laughs at the pair of you “why are you even thinking about it?!”

“you asked me a question! of course iam going to think about the answer!” Your grandfather laughs harder and a smile creeps it’s way to his lips as you glare at them both

“this is ridiculous i hate both of you” He laughs with your Grandfather “grampy can you leave so i can talk to this idiot in private” Still laughing your grandfather stands and exits the room, his laughter can still be heard as he descends the hallway until it faded away. “we are not getting married”

“i know y/n” He pauses “not right now” You close your eyes and exhale

“you sleep with me twice and you’re starting to plan a proposal?” He sends a look you’re way and it makes you chuckle “we just started playing around with the fact that there’s something between us, what if it’s just a simple attraction? this isn’t a relationship Jeon, you’ll be going back to London soon what happens then?” He tenses at this, he’s already come to terms with the fact this isn’t just attraction for him. No way he would’ve tore that bedroom apart and hunted you down if he just wanted to sleep with you. Sure, he knew your weren’t gonna get engaged any time soon but he hated the thought of being far away. He didn’t wanna go anywhere while you two were exploring what you had.

“y/n, this isn’t just sex for me. look at the mess i made of that room for evidence of that. whatever this is, is more then that. i think we both know that” You silently nod, confirming his thoughts “yes i will return to London, after you promise me that you understand right now we belong together” You seem surprised at this, this was his actual first declaration that he wanted to be with you seriously. But he was done playing around, the idea of him going home without knowing for sure you felt the same didn’t sit right with him “y/n?” He questions and grows annoyed when you roll your eyes at him

“fine, i agree”

“could seem a little happier about it?” You stare at him and he stares right back. Some things just don’t change and he thinks your bickering with each other would never end.

“am thrilled” Your monotone makes him scoff and he stands before rounding the desk and and holding your arm, pulling you to stand

“your enthusiasm is blinding” He remarks before lowering his head to plant a kiss onto your lips, he pulls back before planting another one “take me to the airport tomorrow?”

“not if you plan on slamming the doors on my beauty again” Rolling his eyes he plants a hand on your lower back, walking out the room with you

“you treat that car better then me”

“my baby doesn’t annoy the fuck out of me” Jungkook grumbles as he moves his hand to sling his arm over your shoulder as you walk to the lift.

Epilogue

London, England.

Jungkook

“iam sorry son” Jungkook has to fight the surprise on his face, his father sat on his desk chair across from his with a genuine look on his face. He’d expected to leave this conversation severely pissed off, but this was an unexpected twist. “you’re too good to be sent on a dead mission and for that i really do apologise” Jungkook bit onto his lower lip, a raw feeling of emotion erupting. “iam an old guy and i don’t often express much of anything. but iam proud of you” He had to pinch himself at his fathers words, not wanting tears to spill.

“i, appreciate that” His father nods, small smile on his face. It was clear he felt regret, in this type of work emotions are just seen as weakness but his father should’ve been more expressive with his own son.

“i heard the plan seem to work?” Jungkook chuckled, he was missing you right now so he guessed it did work. “i always liked her, she terrifies my men with that little laptop of hers”

“oh yeah, she figured the whole thing out in record time. she’s what quite nifty with that laptop” His father nods, smile on his face

“i knew you liked her, before you even knew it” Jungkook makes a face “you may not have known but it was quiet obvious, after you killed her father you were so guilt striken. you assumed it was because he was your first but, i always thought it was because he was her father.”

“probably. i put it down to worrying about her revenge but i guess, i just admired her and didn’t know it. felt guilt for taken her father away” His dad nodded before leaning back in his chair

“and i assume you found out the truth about him?” Jungkook’s jaw tenses, remembering what you admitted about him but nods “he was a terrible man. his father though, he sure is something” A chuckle leaves his father mouth and Jungkook’s head tilts in curiosity “we’ve been talking back and forth for a while now, god is he amusing”

“found a new friend father?”

“you could say that” Jungkook laughs, not believing that the rivalry finally came to an end and it was all over. This whole conversation was surprising him more and more by the second. “we’re gonna announce the rivalry over officially next week, then” He pauses “we’re moving operations to New York” Jungkook was floored, his shock must have been evident because his father laughed “not only is the rivalry over, but we’re joining forces. easier to do that in the same country”

“that’s, great” His father smiled making Jungkook slightly nervous.

“you’ll be happy to know y/n’s Grandfather said you can stay at his estate full time. i heard about your little meltdown when she ran away” Jungkook’s cheeks heat while his father simply continued to smile

“i doubt y/n will put up with me living there” He mumbles, but deep down he was happy to be going back there knowing he could stay.

“with the way you destroy one of her rooms? probably not” Jungkook groans before standing

“ok conversations over” He grumbles before leaving the office, his fathers laughter loud behind him. After that, he felt a lot lighter. It was like a new chapter in his life, his rival was no longer that and was now his girlfriend. Additionally his father finally opened up, apologised and said he was proud of him. He walks off to his wing and pulls his phone out, calling you. It rings for a while before you finally answer

“yes?”

“what a warm greeting” Jungkook grumbles and you laugh on the other end of the line

“what’s up Jeon?”

“is that how you address your future husband?”

“i don’t know haven’t met him yet” Jungkook rolls his eyes as he enters his room and sits on the bed

“bitch”

“Jeon”

“sorry” He mumbles and you chuckle into his ear and reluctantly he smiles “my father is moving us to New York, he says for business but i think he wants to be closer to his bestie- your grandfather”

“oh i heard, he won’t shut up and your father coming out. says their gonna go for a drink” Jungkook laughs, not being able to imagine his father letting loose at a bar.

“i don’t know how we ended here, but iam not going to complain”

“ew stop being sentimental”

“ok fine i hate your fucking guts” You bark a laugh down the phone

“feelings mutual, you’re not living here by the way. not risking another room in your hands when i leave the house for an hour” He’s had enough reminders of that day for a lifetime

“oh iam sorry for assuming you were dead because your stupid ass couldn’t answer your phone and iam moving in, you can’t stop me”

“i know, iam too irresistible you can’t stay away” He scoffs, moving the phone from one ear to the other

“whatever you say sweetheart, make some room for my stuff in your room”

“who says you’re staying in my room Jeon?” He wants to reach through the phone and throttle you, your sarcasm never ends and although he admires you strong will. He also wants to zip your mouth shut

“i did, now shut up iam flying out today”

“just can’t stay away can you? i’ll make sure to bring my gun in case you want to point yours at me again at the airport” He stands from his bed and opens his cupboard before pulling his cloths out and onto his bed

“keep talking and i will pull it on you again” He knows you’re rolling your eyes, can basically feel it as he gathers all of his things to pack away

“it’s easy to disarm you, am not worried”

“you’re intolerable” He grumbles and he hears some shuffling through the phone, guessing your led down

“good, my job is done” Jungkook smiles without realising it. He knows that you’ve got him wrapped around your finger, he can’t even spend more then day away from you. He’s already packing to run right back to you. It’s funny because beforehand he’d have done anything to stay from you, his enemy, his rival- but now he’s itching to get back. It was a surprising turn of events, but he wasn’t going to overthink it- he’s just going to get back to you as fast as his jet can take him.

to my favorite serial killer, clown, cult leader, hairstylist, vampire, playwright, actor, hotel owner, lobster man, circus performer, zombie, frat boy, and mechanic <3

Serving The Devil - MainList

Genre: Enemies to lovers (?), boss x employee relationship, eventual smut, angst

Warnings: Yandere trends, possessiveness, abuse of authority, explicit language, controlling Taehyung, sweet reader, DUBCON, violence, abusive relationship

Pair: Idol! Kim Taehyung x Staff! Reader

Summary: Each of the BTS members has their own personal assistant, that person responsible for keeping their costumes clean, making sure they stick to all the schedules of the day, make payments to gossip sites whenever something that shouldn't be publicized comes out in magazines... Anyway, it does everything from buying their food to cleaning their apartments.

And you, as Kim Taehyung's assistant, on top of that, have to deal with his complicated personality and his constant task of complicating your work. You think your boss hates you, but on a trip to Paris things can change.

Prologue

Chapter I - In July

Chapter II - Coming soon

Chapter III - Coming soon...

divider by @straywords

tag list:

@ymrai @oldermenluverrr @appachicken @taenosaurrr @prajusstuff @happyyappysworld @jooniesbigroundtiddies @evil-ian @hishrvkajajquv @turnthepageandbeburnt @softie00 @peachescream1723 @israak @bluelesbiann @asecrethideoutforapersonlikemeh

NOT SO INVISIBLE STRING — GOJO SATORU

synopsis: the universe has a funny way of working. gojo always knew he was destined to be with you and so did others. it just took some time for you to figure that out as well.

content warning(s): FLUFF! eventual smut so 18+ mdni, fem! reader, pining gojo (sooo cute), mutual pining, friends to lovers, unproetected sex, gojo calling you baby multiple times while going innn.

word count: 6.8k zoo wee mama... pls read anyway or i'll d— EDIT: do not feed my work into c.ai. cough grimmjowshitheart cough

SPRING 2008

“So, you’re not gonna miss me? Not even a little?” 

An arm was suddenly thrown across your shoulders, leaving you to bear its weight. The press of his uniform stuck to your nape, making his presence all the more difficult to ignore.

Fellow students bustled and sidestepped their way around you two, some even falter in their steps to ogle briefly at the scene unfolding before them.

“Satoru, move!” Shoko— your saviour— jabs Gojo’s side, urging him to budge, but to no avail.

He’s still tethered to your side, twirling around his diploma in his unoccupied hand despite your best efforts to create space between you two. “You’re literally blocking people’s way toward the gates,” she says.

It’s graduation day and the last day of school for the spring semester, bringing the school year to yet another successful end. It also meant that today would be the last time your upperclassmen would walk on school grounds as students.

The sun was beginning to dip behind the many trees surrounding the school, and its marvellous glow cast warm hues of pink and orange that stretched across the sky. Its rays descend onto the school’s campus; setting for a brilliant, comforting atmosphere. 

Answering Gojo’s initial question about whether you’d miss him, you avert eye contact with your persistent senior. “I never said that,” your voice teeters between a grumble and a groan riddled with exasperation. 

Your eyes sweep the courtyard and you spot a few familiar faces in the crowd. Some are gathered along the steps leading up to the school taking photos to commemorate today. Others linger on campus chatting amongst themselves, and some whack each other with their diploma scrolls while others treat theirs delicately.

And not too far off from where Satoru holds you hostage stood a small crowd of his classmates—specifically, his female classmates— waiting for their chance to bid their goodbyes...

Or stumble out an unprepared confession thrown out in the heat of the moment before they may never see Gojo Satoru again.

Who knows. 

All you’re sure of is that they are most definitely throwing you shady death glares from your peripheral.

“Y’know, I’m gonna miss you,” Gojo says, his arm still looped around your shoulders. He has half a mind to drag you away from standing right front and centre in the entranceway and shuffles you off to the side. “All the years we’ve spent together—”

“Two years, by force.” 

“— and now we’re being split apart,” he finishes, paying no mind to your sardonic comment. The infliction in his voice prompts you to turn to look at him, only to wind up and see a slight pout tugging at his soft, pink lips. “How ever will we manage?”

You smother down the urge to heave a loud and heavy sigh at the clingy characteristics he’s displaying today and decide to play nice.

Gojo’s always been one to be playful, perhaps even a bit pushy at times but it was all in good nature. However, for some reason, his antics have reached a whole new level today. 

Emotions were running high among staff and students alike. Some are more potent and… persistent than others.

“You’ll be fine,” you assure, patting his arm half-heartedly, “and I will certainly be fine. Everything will be just fine.”

In the middle of your sentence from the corner of your eye, you spot another one of your seniors— Geto Suguru. You watch him step out from a conversation with two classmates of yours (Haibara and Nanami) and is now trekking his way over to where you and Gojo occupy the front steps.

“Geto-senpai!” 

Geto greets you warmly by placing a comforting hand on your head and gives you a reassuring pat once, then twice. The action leaves your hairstyle a little dishevelled, nonetheless, there’s a small smile tugging at your lips.

You’ve only interacted with Geto a sparse number of times outside of class or at the end of the school day. Whenever you both would cross paths you appreciated how he would regard your presence with temperance. It always left you feeling at ease. You’ll miss him. 

You’ll especially miss how he was so quick to offer you and Haibara snacks from the vending machines on campus.

Gojo emits a pathetic squawk at the special name drop.

Pale, white brows are pinched tightly together with faux betrayal. “How come he gets honorifics but I don’t?!” he complains once Geto’s within earshot. 

“I see that Satoru's already started…”

Though Geto was talking to no one in particular, Shoko chips in given that she bore witness to Gojo’s incessant pestering toward you ever since the home bell rang. “You missed the part where he blocked her from getting to the lockers for a good several minutes.” Unzipping her bag, she carelessly shoves her diploma into it. 

“But anyway, I’m gonna head out for a smoke. I’ll catch you guys later.” Before departing, Shoko stretches her hand towards you and gives your arm an affectionate squeeze. “Get home safe, ‘kay? Don’t let these guys keep you out too long.”

Which reminded you…

“Gojo, this has been fun and all…” Being rag-dolled around by your upperclassman across campus has been anything but fun. “But I really should start heading home now.”

You wanted to beat the rush hour of students and working-class alike trying to go home on a late Thursday afternoon. Looking for empty seats on the 4:25 PM train was brutal and you did not have the energy to stand the entire ride home.

Sensing your air of urgency, he eventually relents. Heaving a dramatic sigh, Gojo steps back a few and gives you some space.  

“Gimme a second, yeah?” He rummages around in his uniform pocket, searching for something. It only lasts about a second before he pulls out his flip phone.

“Suguru!” A curt upward nod of Gojo’s head is the only warning Geto gets before he tosses his cell toward his best friend to catch. You’re appalled that he catches it so easily with the little to no notice that was given. “Take a picture of us.”

…Huh?

Your brows drew close-knit together with confusion. “What are y—?!” Before you can even finish your question, you’re pulled tightly into Gojo’s side. 

His arms circle your neck once more, but this time, he uses the opportunity of your close proximity to tip his head to the side and knock it against your own. 

“Smile,” Gojo murmurs into your ear, his slender fingers pinching at your cheek prodding for you to plaster on a sugary smile for the picture.

You don’t have enough time to register, let alone recover from how his lips faintly brushed against your skin, Gojo’s already obnoxiously yelling “Cheese!” towards the awaiting camera.  

Snapping the photo Geto sports a lazy grin admiring his work. “Looks good,” he says before he tosses the phone back to its owner. 

You’re still reeling over the gentle graze of Gojo’s lips against your cheek, too dazed to digest what’s going on around you. What. In. The hell. Just happened??? 

Sputtering out a laugh, Gojo grins down at the image on his phone. “What’s with that face you’re making, huh?”

Eyebrows furrowing, you look up at Gojo curiously. Whatever was in that picture that made him smile that wide couldn’t have been good. “What do you mean?” You question, stepping closer to see what he was referring to on his screen.

Gojo tips his cell over and shows you the photo Geto took. There you both are in grain, Gojo looking the most lively out of you two. Despite the quality of the camera, you can see the proud and happy smile he wears compared to your frazzled and confused expression.

If anything, it looked like you were the one who was graduating and he so happened to snag a photo with you before your big send-off.

“I wasn’t ready…” you grumbled, looking away from his phone.

There’s a faint smile lingering on his face, blue eyes still trained on the screen. His voice's cadence grows warm and carries a small hint of affection.

“That face of yours is what I’m gonna miss the most.”

SUMMER 2009 

To no one’s surprise, you and Gojo kept in close contact, even after graduating high school. 

Well… More so Gojo kept in contact with you. Consistently. 

Whenever he can.

He was there during your spring graduation (shocker), much to the elation of the entire female population from your graduating class. Looking back, the number of times he stopped to pose with random students around the school when he came to greet you was absurd.

You’ll also never forget how loud he cheered when your name was called despite Principal Yaga telling the audience to hold their applause and hollers until after the ceremony.

Fast forward to the summer of ‘09 where Gojo consistently seeks your presence to go and hang out with him now that you have a freed-up schedule. Whether it's with him alone or with Geto and Shoko, you can always rely on him to shoot you a ‘u busy?’ text an hour before dragging you out for the rest of the day.

“Sooo,” you start slowly.

Your eyes skim across the playground, watching the few children who were there amble and climb on the jungle gym before you. The sun was beginning to descend below the skyline, and hues of warm orange press onto your features casting you and your surroundings in a soft glow. 

“You’re a… guardian now,” you state, eyeing how Gojo stretches his legs out beside you. 

You both sit at a park bench, the chorus of laughter and playful shrieks surround you as you watch Megumi— a kid Gojo now supposedly looks after— poke mindlessly at something buried beneath the playground’s sand.

“Yup!” he chirps, but then it’s swiftly followed by a hesitant, “Well, sorta kinda…”

There’s a mental warfare going on in his mind as he combs through the various explanations he can give you, searching for one that would be both concise and easy for you to digest.

“To put it simply, from here on out I’m going to be a constant in Megumi and Tsumiki’s life.”

You think of the step-sibling duo. They’re the sweetest pair of children you’ve had the delight of coming across, and now…

“They’re doomed,” you say with pity, your gaze still focused on the youngest Fushiguro. 

Gojo gasps in disbelief at your bold accusation with his hand flying to his chest, clearly having taken offence. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” he asks.

But before you could give him a smart alec answer, the cheerful exclamation of your name pulls your attention elsewhere. The soft thump of Tsumiki’s shoes approaching prompts you to smile brightly. With open arms, the girl practically throws herself at you and giggles.

You give her cheek an affectionate squeeze. Despite her being in the second grade, you couldn’t help but coddle her. “Why hello, Tsumiki!” 

It takes her a few moments to finally release you from the hug, backing up a bit she glances up at you. “Where were you? I missed you on Tuesday, the swings weren’t fun without you!” she says, pouting.

“I wasn’t feeling the best, so I had to turn down Gojo’s invite to meet you guys at the park that day.”

Upon hearing all the commotion, Megumi spots Tsumiki talking to you a few steps from the play area. It prompts the young boy to walk over and join you three at the bench. He nods his head over at his step-sister and says, “She thought you guys broke up.”

Huh?

You blink rapidly. “Broke— Broke up!?” You squawk, the inflection of your voice rising at the ‘up’ part.

Where could she have possibly gotten that idea from? You and Gojo weren’t even dating!

Gathering your composure you plaster on a sweet smile, ready to explain to the young pair that you and Gojo weren’t together like that before a heavy arm comes hunkering down onto your shoulders. “Even if she tried, she can’t get rid of me that easily,” Gojo comments.

Christ.

Tsumiki claps her hands together in glee at this revelation. “Yay! ‘Cause I like you!” she confesses. “I thought I’d have to deal with Gojo and his friend with the big ears pushing me on the swings forever.” And with that, the girl’s already off running to the big yellow slide, pulling Megumi along in her wake.

The sweet smile you wear grows more and more strained the longer you two sit there on that damned bench with Gojo’s arm still lodged around you like it belonged there. 

Long delicate fingers drum themselves along your bare shoulder which leaves a tingling sensation that lingers against your skin.

“Gojo Satoru…” you hiss between clenched teeth.

Your hand creeps up to give his knee a mean pinch, but as always, Gojo reads your movements like a damn book and catches your hand in his before that could happen. “Hm?”

“What do you mean ‘Hm’?” You gesture in the general direction of where the kids are playing. You feel your brows start to pinch together. “Why would you tell them that?!”

“It’s true though, no?” Snowy white wisps of hair fall in front of his eyes shaded by his signature round sunglasses. “We haven’t ‘broken up’ and we’re still together. Just not in their understanding of it.”

“You—! That’s not—” You flounder for words, trying to spit out why he can’t go around inadvertently feeding into the imagination of whatever relationship Tsumiki and Megumi thought you two had. But you come up blank.

“You’re irritating, you know that?” you say, as you try (and fail) at removing his arm which still rests comfortably around your shoulders, pressing you tight against him. “You’ll wind up confusing them.”

An easy smile slips onto his lips as he observes Tsumiki and Megumi scramble up the slides. “Relax,” he responds. “They’re smart kids.”

And until it was time for the Fushiguros to go home, there you two sat underneath the thinning ochre sky. Stuck under the guise of an unspoken relationship.

WINTER 2011

Being the “middleman” between two people who are so obviously into each other but cannot figure out how to hang around each other normally was all too common for Shoko.

It’s a shame that Geto wasn’t available to come down and hang out with the three of you tonight, he would’ve revelled in getting a kick out of this expected yet unexpected… turn of events.

Brought in as a buffer between you two, with an unlit cigarette dangling loosely from her lips Shoko leaned back in her chair and watched the buzzing scene before her unfold with bemused eyes. 

Underneath the comforting golden glow of the restaurant’s hanging table light, Gojo picks at the cookie dough chunks that litter your plate to which you turn a blind eye. Now, Shoko could’ve easily brushed this occurrence off, seeing that friends often eat from each other's share of food all the time.

But something was... different.

With Gojo seated to your left inside the booth, he neatly cuts up a piece of his soft, creamy cheesecake and leverages the small serving on his spoon. “Here, try some of mine,” he says.

Harmless, right? 

So, you reach for your own spoon to retrieve the sample of dessert that he was offering you. But without any hesitation, Gojo lifts his cutlery to your lips and prods the food toward your mouth.

There was no way that he intended on doing this right here, right now. In front of Shoko especially.

“Say, ‘Ahhh’!”

Concern creases your brow when Gojo continues to press the spoon against your lips, idly humming as he waits for you to open your mouth so he can spoon feed you as if he were your mother. A delicate, yet sure hand cupping your chin and everything.

He was being serious.

From your peripheral, you catch the slow spread of a Cheshire-like grin creeping onto Shoko’s face.

You press your fingers onto Gojo’s wrist and frown. Trying to retreat from his hand, a peal of nervous laughter bubbles out from you at his display of reckless affection at the table. “Give me a br—”

Gojo uses the opportunity of your uncertain state to slip his sharing of the  Japanese cheesecake into your mouth in the middle of your sentence. Your eyes widen a small fraction at its creamy taste, prompting him to comment, “It’s good, right?”

The cigarette threatens to slip from Shoko’s mouth, as her lips slightly gape at what just happened before they curve into a soft smile. Her brown eyes are warm with… something. It’s as if she knew something that you didn’t.  

“Ehhh…” Is all she says before you’re already jumping down her throat to clear up any misunderstandings.

“It’s nothing!” you supply in a rushed manner. Your main objective was to simply imply that this was nothing for her to lose her head over. Hell, even the friendliest of friends feed each other all the time! Right?

But at your remark, Gojo’s mouth downturns into a cute little pout. “What do you mean, ‘nothing’?” From the corner of your eye you glance at how he’s fixed another spoonful of the dessert, and it's hovering in your direction.

“Sato—” Fuck.

You quickly correct yourself on your mistake, and school your voice to have a bit more edge to it. Despite that, you don’t overlook how hard Gojo’s beaming at you. “Gojo, not now.”

“Ehhh?” Shoko exclaims once again, but this time the cadence of her voice has changed. It’s gained an amused note to its tune. “You call him Satoru now? Since when?”

“I’ve been begging her to use it for the longest time ever,” Gojo answers on your behalf, and he ignores your mutter for him to please stop talking in favour of jabbing an accusatory finger at you. “You know how painful it was to see you be all chummy and on a first-name basis with everyone but me?”

Lord. You’ve forgotten how dramatic he could be. 

There’s a teasing glint in Shoko’s eye that you quite don’t like, and her lips purse heavy with consideration at his comment. “You make him beg?”

Groaning, you cross your arms against the table and bury your face. You can’t with them. Your two former upperclassmen were the bane of your existence right about now. 

“I’ll kill you both,” you mutter, your speech muffled by the fabric of your sweater.

A FEW YEARS LATER

A calming blue nightly glow ripples through your curtains, casting your room in nothing but moonlight. Amidst the serene silence, you idly stare at your screen and read the text Satoru sent you right as the clock struck midnight.

Satoru: Are you home?

What an ominous question. Your eyes skim over his message again. And then again. 

…And again.

Thumbing through your phone, you glance at the time displayed on the top of your screen. It’s been five minutes since you’ve opened his text. You should probably send something back soon before he quintuple texts you.

As you’re about to respond right when Satoru immediately shoots you another.

Satoru: I KNOW you see this!!! ( `ε´ )

Satoru: Hurry hurry hurry

You: yes... why?

Now it’s his turn to take a while to respond. First, it takes a couple of minutes for you to receive that pinging chime; indicating that he’s texted you back— which isn’t too bad because you like to consider yourself a pretty patient person. 

But then five minutes slowly turn into ten, and that ten becomes a whopping fifteen until finally he answers.

Satoru: Open your door.

What the fuck.

Satoru: Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepl

So that’s why he took so long to reply. The man was coming all the way down from his place to come and visit you!

You: you're actually insane.

You: hold on!

Rising from your seated position on your bed, you stalk over to your bedroom door and are about to exit when you spot yourself in a nearby mirror.

“Oh!” you exclaim to no one in particular. You can’t open the door for him looking like… this.

Wait, why do you care about what Satoru thinks of your clothes?!

 He’s seen you wearing much worse. Like that one instance in first-year, when you had to borrow Geto’s spare parachute pants because Haibara accidentally spilt his soda all over your lap during an informal outing with everyone.

Yeesh.

Shaking your head, you slip out of your room and pad down your apartment hallway wearing your discoloured oversized band tee and shorts. Upon reaching your door, your hand hesitates on the doorknob. 

It stays like that for a few seconds until the doorknob is rattled in a fashion that’s all too persistent, annoying, and all from—

“Satoru!” you hiss, swinging the door open. You’re ready to chew him out on how much of a nuisance he may be for your sleeping neighbours a few doors down. But your looming reprimand falls short on your tongue once your eyes take in the man facing you.

“Happy birthday!” 

In the darkness, the soft glow of sparklers illuminates your features and highlights the exquisite details of a beautifully decorated cake held in Satoru’s hands.

Wordlessly, your hand aimlessly searches for the light switch to brighten up your hallway so that you may get a better look at what’s on the cake. 

Something trembles in your chest and it hurts a little to breathe. But not in the way that you detest.

He’s cute.

Gojo Satoru is so heartbreakingly cute.

On the cake, you see that damn grainy photo you two took on his graduation day back in ‘08. The photo you love to hate.

Wetness springs to your eyes from the entire gesture, from the fact that he ensured he was the first one through text and physically to wish you a happy birthday, and from the fact that he’s here right now.

“Hey…” There’s concern creasing Satoru’s expression as he pokes his head down a little to get a better read on you. “Are you crying?”

You sniff back your tears and grunt out a watery, “No… Shut up and come in already.”

Ushering him inside, Satoru hands you your cake, toes off his shoes and heads straight to your living room. Good to see that he’s already making himself at home.

Plopping himself down onto your couch you hesitantly follow behind him, suddenly feeling like a stranger in your own home. “Come, come!” He waves a welcoming hand at you and pats the seat beside him, insinuating that you should sit.

With immediate interest, you do as he says and take a seat beside him after you position your cake in the middle of your coffee table. The couch feels so small now, with him spread out like that.

Pulling out something from his pocket with one hand and tugging off the party hat from his head with the other— had he been wearing that the whole time?— Satoru clears his throat. “Before you cry again, I gotta make sure you’re able to see your present first.”

He takes your head in his hands, and you realize his fingertips are a little cold as they press on your warm cheeks. Stretching the string down from the party hat a bit, he places it under your chin and snaps the cardboard cone into place on your head.

Breathing a noise of satisfaction seemingly content with how you look, a cheeky grin dances across Satoru’s face. “Perfect. You can now go ahead and open your gift,” he says, handing you a small black velvet box with the company logo HW scrawled across it.

“Wait, what,” you deadpan.

This can’t be what you think it is.

“It’s not a ring!” Satoru blurts. But composes himself seconds later with a quip of, “Unless you want it to be?”

Har. Har. Very funny.

You disregard what he’s said and peel open the box with caring hands.

Inside was the most extravagant necklace you’ve ever laid eyes on. A diamond pendant laid bare inside the box in the shape of a forget-me-not with your birthstone at the flower's centre. 

That could’ve easily cost him a little over one million yen if you think about it deeply.

“Satoru!” you squeal.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around his neck and squeeze your longtime friend into your loving embrace. Satoru’s gift to you almost topples and sinks into the crevice of your couch had it not been for his quick hand to catch the necklace.

Your heart’s racing, and initially, his body goes rigid until he gradually relaxes under your hold. “You’re crazy, ’s too expensive!” you sparingly chastise him. 

Satoru swallows hard and brings a careful arm up to reciprocate the hug. You feel the warm press of his arm against the thin material of your shirt. 

“Nothing’s too expensive if you’re involved,” you hear him murmur into your ear. “So, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

You give him one last bone-crushing squeeze, hoping that your rare show of physical touch does not go unnoticed and exemplifies how grateful you are. Pulling away from him you look him dead in the eyes. “Thank you, seriously.”

Shrugging you off like it was no big deal as if he didn’t blow double, maybe even triple the money the average Japanese businessman earns on a singular paycheque toward your necklace, Satoru casts you a gentle smile and changes the subject. 

There would be no need to dwell on it any longer with what’s to come.

“Now…” He gives your lower back a soft pat. Once, and twice. “A birthday kiss from the birthday girl.” Satoru puckers out his lips and shuts his eyes real tight, making a huge show out of it.

For extra effect, he even hums a prolonged Mmm-ing sound to emphasize him waiting for you to initiate it.

It’s a joke; you know he’s joking. He has a ridiculously long history of being overly affectionate with his teasings and whatnot. 

But this time, you really do lean in and take said kiss from him.

There’s something incredibly adorable about this kiss that has your heart surging in your chest. Partly because it’s the first time that you’re kissing each other, but mostly because of how frigid and careful it is. It made you feel as if you were in high school all over again, trying a plethora of new things for kicks and giggles.

The tension was almost palpable, thick enough to suffocate the air he breathed. Even when you pulled away creating space between you both, Satoru still felt a lingering lump in his throat.

Cracking your eyes open, you see that Satoru’s own are blown wide. Piercing cerulean eyes stare unblinking at you. Normally, you would’ve found that to be off putting as hell, had it not been for the slow rise of a blooming pink crawling up his neck.

“Sorry,” you offer weakly. Sensing that you may have gone too far, you make an effort to scoot off his lap. But a determined arm holds you in place.

“Again.” He swallows thickly, and your eyes follow that mesmerizing movement in his throat. “I… I didn’t do it right. Please.”

And who are you to make him beg? So, you do as he says.

Leaning in, your lips press against Satoru’s once more. And this time, he has the sense to close his eyes and bask in it, not daring to let his nerves get the best of him (though he’d never admit it). 

Slotting yourself to be more flushed against him, the tips of your noses brush and you feel Satoru’s hand smooth down your spine. The pads of his fingertips press onto your exposed skin peeking out from underneath the hem of your shirt bunched around your hips.

God, you wanted him bad.

It’s abrupt, the way you push yourself off him and force yourself to stand on your feet, breaking the kiss. The rise and fall of your chest is a bit staggered and Satoru’s is too. He’s all red-faced and his snow-white hair is a bit dishevelled, considering how many times you’ve combed your fingers through it.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Cute. 

That alone made you want to jump his bones even more.

You shake your head and get one good look at him before you leave him to head down your hallway. He looked perpetually enraptured by you, eyes hyper-focused on your every movement.  “Come to my bedroom.”

Satoru’s stunned, the implications of your remark not lost on him.

And like a keen lost puppy, of course he follows. He joins you in your bedroom seconds after you and stands in the doorway, just kind of hovering there. Not sure of what to do.

Wait. Did he come here too fast? Did that make him look overly desperate? A million and one questions rush through Satoru’s mind as his neck grows red, stained with embarrassment, want… arousal. 

Seeing how he seems to be short-wiring at your doorway, you beckon him to join you on the bed with your hand. Once he does, he sits extremely close next to you. His clothed thigh brushes against your bare one, which sends a jolt of electricity through you.

Your fingers find his nape once again and they stroke up on his fresh undercut, prompting him to shiver a bit. “Why’re you so shy all of a sudden?” you question, your voice going gentle with a provoking edge to it.

Gaining some of his personality back, Satoru pinches your cheek. “‘Cause I didn’t think you’d want to kiss me!” But his mean hand then turns soft and slides along your jaw, his thumb rubbing smooth circles into the skin just below your ear. 

“Well, I’m here,” you say, scooting impossibly closer to the man beside you, “and wanting.”

Message received.

Hauling you onto his lap, Satoru cradles your face in both hands and kisses you deeply. It’s full of emotion, expressing all the things he’s been wanting to say for the longest time. A trembled exhale escapes you, and it’s through that that Satoru uses the opportunity to slide his tongue alongside yours. 

The kiss is frenzied, but so filled with love.

“So you like me?” he asks, his breathing laboured.

“Yes,” you bite, pushing him away from you and onto the mattress. “As if swapping spit with you wasn’t enough.” You guess you’ll have to show him how much you undoubtedly like him, love him even, through other means. 

He huffs a breath of laughter and drops his back onto your bed. Underneath you, you see Satoru’s eyes sparkle as he watches you have your way with him. 

But something’s up.

His eyes climb up a little higher and this time, he barks out a real laugh.

You still have that piece of fuck sitting on your head. You probably look stupid as hell right now.

Discerning that you’re about to raise your hand to your head, Satoru holds your wrist in his palm. There’s something bright that gleams behind those alluring pools of blue, warm and tender. He bites back a smile. “The birthday hat stays on during sex.”

You scrunch your nose at him. “You’re so dumb,” you growl with artificial frustration and tear off the cone-shaped hat from your head, tossing it into the depths of your room. He whines at its loss, but you’re quick to placate him with a slow roll of your hips into his lap.

Satoru’s jaw clenches and his hands fly to your waist, gripping you tightly as you continue to grind yourself down onto his erection. Your ministrations pull a wanton whimper from his lips, one that has you grinding with more purpose— the purpose of hearing that sound again.

“Do you like that?” you ask.

He nods, not trusting himself to speak, else he’ll let out a pathetic string of moans.

“I know, me too.” Satoru’s dick lurches in the confines of his pants as he watches you dry-hump him into the mattress slowly, your eyes shining with lust. Fuck, he could get hard just off your expression alone. “It feels reeeally nice being up on you like this,” you continue.

You have a fucking dirty mouth. One that Satoru’s growing more and more addicted to the more you speak.

There’s an incessant throbbing between your legs that you can’t quite alleviate. While rolling your hips into Satoru’s lap— with his occasional thrust to match your movements— felt good, it can only do so much. You wanted and needed more.

And so did Satoru, because he’s already pulling at the waistband of his pants. His thumb loops two layers and tugs both his pants and boxers down, revealing his toned V-line. 

Fuck.

You fall victim to Satoru’s enamoured gaze from below, which makes you squirm hot with arousal. “Take it off,” he commands.

He wants you to strip him of his clothes. 

Caught taking a startled breath, you ignore the wicked, handsome smile that slinks onto his face as you slip off his lap so you may curl your fingers around his waistband and pull. Your pussy clenches when his erect dick springs into view, and the heat pumping through your veins runs a little hotter.

You shiver at how pretty and filling his dick looks. After a few seconds of openly ogling at his lap, Satoru clears his throat which successfully gets you to drag your eyes back up to his face.

“While that was nice,” he starts, leveraging himself up onto his elbows and grins at your cute error, “I meant you, baby. Take it off.”

“Oh.” 

Seriously? Just ‘Oh’?

Mentally facepalming, you shimmy your shorts down your legs along with your panties. They pool down at your ankles and you step out of them to stand between his legs.

Fully sitting up, Satoru pats his lap; encouraging you to sit on him again. “C’mere.”

You crawl onto his lap, but you don’t sit down fully. Hovering a few inches away from his cock, your knees press on each side of his thighs, trapping him in. 

There’s no way in hell you were gonna sit down right now, knowing that if you do, you’d be pressing your bare pussy onto his naked thigh and he’d feel everything. Exposing how wet you are.

Humming, Satoru lifts the hem of your oversized top to your breasts and sighs. “Pretty,” he murmurs before he leans forward and captures your nipple into his mouth.

You gasp harshly at the titillating feeling. Your hands balance on his shoulders for support, as he rolls your nipple on his tongue.

“Sa— Ah!” You cry out. The hand between your legs startles you and has you whimpering in the open air.

“You’re wet,” he comments, slipping a finger against your slick pussy.

“Shut up about it…”

But he doesn’t. Another finger joins the first and delves down between your lips, gradually easing them inside you. They push against your walls, curling in a way that has you gasping into his neck. “You got wet from grinding alone, huh?” 

A breath stutters out of your mouth and you rock yourself against his hand. You can’t take this anymore. You want more. “Do you have a condom?” you ask.

“I—” he groans when your hand slides between you two, your fingers curl around his dick and stroke his tip along your leaking slit. “I didn’t bring one, because I didn’t think we’d—”

Oh.

Biting your bottom lip, you sling a heavy arm across Satoru’s shoulders. You meet his hungry gaze with one of your own and inch closer toward his dick that rests against his stomach. What you’re about to do could be risky, but at this given moment you couldn’t find it in you to be overly stressed about it.

“No worries,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, “I trust you enough to pull out in time.” And like that, you push down on him and ease Satoru’s cock into your aching cunt, making him bottom out inside you completely.

You’re so wet and slippery that it took little to no effort for him to slide inside. The noise of your slick sticking to where you two meet at the hips has you two moaning softly in unison.

The harsh mutter of your name echoes off your bedroom walls and goes straight to your cunt. “So tight,” he grits out behind clenched, white teeth.

Each time you slide up and down on his cock, Satoru grows more unrestrained with his vocal appreciation of how well you take him. Desperate little moans escape him each time your sweet cunt squeezes him of all he’s worth.

You were no better. Choppy, broken whimpers can be heard from you, loving how he stretches your walks with your length. He fits perfectly inside you like your cunt was destined for this moment, for him alone. 

“Let me fuck you,” Satoru blurts out. He was losing it, and he could feel him tipping closer and closer to the edge of release.

“You are— Ugn!” you say weakly when his hands grab your ass and he stands, lifting you with him as if it were nothing. Kicking off his bottoms, Satoru props you on your back against your mattress.

 Crawling between your legs, he positions the crown of his cock to press against your opening. “No,” he drawls, with one hand on the base of his shaft and the other propped beside your head. “Let me fuck you.”

He pushes in and you swear you see stars. 

Satoru pistons himself faster and faster inside of you, rocking your bodies against the mattress which makes your wooden headboard tap noisily against your drywall.

You fear your neighbours may have some… less than pleasant words to share with you about the noise tomorrow morning. 

“Ah! Fuuucking— shit!” You wail. Euphoric tears start prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Don’t stop, please!”

The pleasure melts through you when Satoru presses down harder into you, his hand finding the back of your right knee and hikes your leg around his waist so that he can fill you at a new angle.

“Baby,” he murmurs into your neck. He says it like you’ve been his for years. “Say my name.”

“S—Satoru!”

Laughing a little, probably too fucked out of his mind, Satoru removes his face from your neck and presses a hot, searing kiss onto your lips.

You yelp when he drives his cock more harshly into you, growing more desperate with the urgency to come inside you.

Riding his high, Satoru says the first thing that comes to mind, which is a long drawn-out, “Haaa…”

What Satoru meant to accomplish was to wish you another ‘Happy Birthday’, but of course, it all gets garbled up in his throat due to his approaching orgasm and comes out sounding fucking obscene.

That’s what gets you.

You come hard, your back bowing off the bed. Satoru, remembering your initial statement about how you trust him to pull out, does exactly that. Albeit, he did it at the very last second, but you avoided a pregnancy scare. So you can’t be mad.

Thick ropes of his cum splash across your bare belly and some get on your top. You’re hyperaware of how it trickles down your abdomen, some dipping into your belly button.

Wow.

Breathing hard and heavy, both coated in sweat among… other sensual fluids, Satoru rolls onto his back.

“Stuck with me for life, huh?” he asks, delicate fingers intertwined with yours. 

You hum. “Seems so…” you agree quietly. 

Now that you think about it, there hasn’t ever been a moment where Gojo Satoru hadn’t been present in your life, ever since meeting him during your high school days.

You two lay like that for some time, soaking in each other’s company until the early traces of morning light ripple through your curtains.

You’re about ready to shut your eyes until your thoughts are accosted by something you offhandedly forgot. 

“Satoru?” you begin, tone nice and sweet.

“Hm?”

You sit up slowly so you can peer down at his blissed-out face. “By chance, was the cake you got for me made out of ice cream?”

You know how deep his love for sweets goes. You just pray and hope to whatever higher power that he chose the safe route and chose a normal ca—

“…Yeah, why?”

Jumping out of bed, you rush to the living room where the cake is probably spilling its guts out all over your expensive, mahogany coffee table. “You IDIOT!” 

A string of curses follows you out into the hallway, as Satoru sits on your bed confused.

“What’d I do?!”

Whether you liked it or not, you were stuck with this bumbling idiot if he had any say in the matter, an invisible string keeping you two bound.

And maybe it wasn’t that bad.

Even if it’s at the cost of your ¥20,000 table.

if you read to the end we're making out.

© do not copy/plagiarize/translate/use ai on my work.

I want to request a ff. can you make yandere CEO sugar daddy jungkook ff? if you are accepting my request then please don't make yn the typical humble sweet innocent girl who gots herself into that situation just because her dear mom or grandma is on verge of dying and she doesn't have any money so she took that path to save them. no please make her character different. Like a spoiled brat and arrogant girl who wanna have lavish life and power forever and takes advantage of the fact of having powerful handsome most sought after man on her side. kinda gold digger type but not really since she doesn't want to leave him and she actually enjoys his obsession/yandereness until it gets too much. I want to actually see kinda negative female lead than typical positive character? Doesn't really have to be negative just bitchy kinda toxic demanding clingy character etc.

Btw i loved your ffs who is in control and seat of power. I hope you keep making more yandere Jungkook ffs in future. I hope to see more of your ffs in future. You have already become one of my fav author in Tumblr 🩷

Don’t Blame Me | sugar daddy!jungkook one-shot au teaser

pairing: sd!jungkook x reader genre: one-shot & yandere au

summary: You can have everything you want and need as long as you have Jeon Jungkook by your side. You were enjoying everything that Jungkook gives you and as long as you obey him. You’re sure to yourself that you will never fail him but he was the one who failed you. Everything is fine until he gets too much. 

content  & warnings: sugar daddy & ceo jk, college reader, manipulative behavior, unhealthy behavior, possessive & obsessive jk, yandere, bitchy reader, jk sabotaging reader’s career

date of release: June 12, 2023 | evening (KST)

Preview:

“Baby.” Is the first thing he said after a long silence between the two of you.

“A-are you… Mad?” He asked in his low and soft voice like he really sounded guilty from what he just did. 

“What was that, Jungkook?” You finally spoke and annoyance is evident in your voice. 

“Baby, I’m sorry. I just want us to have our dinner because we haven’t done it for weeks already.” His voice was still low and soft just like a child that was scrolled by his mom. 

He doesn’t like it when you’re mad. It rarely happens but when you did, he felt like he did really something terrible for you to get this angry. 

“It was our due date this week, Jungkook and we’re not yet done with our paper. We still have a lot of things to do and I don’t understand why you can’t understand it.” 

He’s getting anxious with how your voice sounds. You’re so pissed and he immediately regrets the actions he just did. 

You sound like you hate him now and that you regret being with him. It’s like any minute, you would open your door and leave him alone. 

By just thinking about it makes him crazy. 

He held your hands and placed them on his lips and you can feel his hands shaking.

“Y/N baby I’m sorry! I’ll promise that I’ll be the one to finish all your works I swear. You already knew that those things are only a piece of cake for me and I can finish that in no time I promise!” He speaks so fast and you feel his anxiousness within his shaking voice and hands. 

“I acted without thinking. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He added as he intertwined his fingers with yours and his lips touched the back of your hand.

He’s too scared that he has to feel you right now in order to calm his nerves because when he doesn't, you might drift away from him. 

“But seriously, Jungkook. What was that?” You asked after a long silence. 

The more that you call him by his name, the more anxious he gets because you don’t call him only by his name. 

“When I read your message—

“I thought you didn’t read them?” He looked at you in your eyes and he bites his lips. 

“I lied. I’m sorry.” He admits and you become more confused with his actions. You don’t understand what’s with him. 

“Baby, I'm uneasy and I felt that something is not right and I saw your location and I saw the guy and I don’t know, I feel like my heart will explode! Babe, I can’t sit well because you’ve been declining my invites multiple times and I don’t know what’s happening and I’m overthinking things.”

Even though he talks too fast, you understand where he’s coming from. You’ve seen this before and you know the reason why this is happening.

“So you thought that I ditched you for Yuan?” You asked, trying to hide your smile. 

“Who’s Yuan?” When he asked that, you immediately cracked up.

“Baby, who’s Yuan?” He asked once again.

“The guy I’m with. Jungkook, what the heck!” You can’t take it as you laugh so hard. 

“Babe, why are you—

“You’re getting jealous of someone you forgot! Who’s not going to laugh at that?” You speak in between your laughs. 

Your laughs continued until you realized that he doesn’t find the situation funny. Your laugh slowly fades when you see how serious he is. 

“I was just kidding! Why so serious, Ggukie?” You spoke and you clung to his arm. You still find the situation funny and you tried your best not to laugh since he’s being serious.

After  a few moments, he spoke. 

“Did you really… Ditch me?” He asked in his low and soft voice and you instantly looked at him in horror while you shook your head.

“Of course not! Why would I do that?” You respond in defense. He looked at your eyes trying to see the sincerity of your words but he’s having a hard time finding it. He looked away as he looked down and you took a deep breath.

“Babe, look at me.” You caressed his face as you moved his head to look at you. His eyes glow in the dark and you love how pleading his eyes look. 

“I understand where you’re coming from but believe me when I say that whenever I decline your invites is because I really do have to finish something. Babe, you know how I value my academics and I am aiming for a latin honor. You know that right?” You brushed your thumb off his cheek and he closed his eyes to feel your touch. 

“And Yuan? He’s just a research partner and nothing else. And please, don’t be insecure because of him. He’s nothing compared to you. And I don’t like him either.” You lean forward to kiss his forehead. 

“Don’t you ever think that I would ever like him because it’s a fucking insult. I have a standard, babe and he didn’t even meet the 1% of my standard.” You spoke in a demeaning tone before you pushed your back at the backrest. 

a/n: This is the first time that I received a ff request and tbh, I was kinda nervous because I might not meet the expectation of the person who requested it. I write everything based on what the ff requester wants and hopefully, I did it right! It was hard for me to go out of my comfort zone when it comes to writing (what I mean is writing a ff that wasn’t me who plotted it) but I realized, why not try it? To the one who requested this, I hope you’ll like it!