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The Doll House | Park Sunghoon

doll!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (f.rec), fingering, dom!hoon (i didn't mean this, it just happened), begging but not really, horror elements, anything else lmk! wc: 8.9k synopsis: once you find out the dolls' secret, you're on the hunt to find out how they became this way. in the library you stumble across something and you're left alone with park sunghoon who promises to keep your rendezvous with jaeyun a secret from their owner, but not without something in return jaeyun | masterlist | jongseong a/n: hi! this is the second installation of this series and i'm enjoying writing it so so much! there's a little bit of the lore in here and i tried to put in some little nuggets like word play and everything to give you guys some hints! i hope you enjoy and as always, likes, comments, feedback, and reblogs are always appreciated <3

In the week following your encounter with Jaeyun, you've stirred something deep within him. Whenever possible, he finds his way to your side, lending himself to you as he helps you with your daily chores, holding onto your hand when you sit down for some relaxation time between cleaning and cooking, and most importantly - at least for him - he’s been fucking you like crazy.

Something about last week made him feel alive, stronger than he had ever felt before, and he wanted to have that feeling ignited within him almost every day. He coaxed you into having sex a second time around by using those beautiful round eyes to pull at your heartstrings and break your resolve and from then your embarrassment subsided and you used one another to your heart's desire.

Having sex with a doll puts you in the same bracket as those lonely middle-aged men who have no friends and find solace with their rubber girlfriends, which is quite embarrassing. But this is different, you like to think, Jaeyun is for all intent and purpose alive and might as well be a real human.

Sure, he doesn’t have internal organs, his skin is made from thermoplastic elastomer, and his doll shell is made from durable porcelain with insulated heat, but he’s as real as they come. You did ask him how he can get hard and fill you up to the brim with his faux seed, but he says it’s just the way he’s designed.

Soonyeol is a kinky bitch and she knew exactly what she was doing when she purchased these specific dolls.

You break Soonyeol’s rules almost every day because of him though, venturing into his room to fuck him silly, both of you seeking pleasure and comfort in each other's presence, holding one another close late into the night, swapping stories and laughter; it is nice to have someone to talk to, even if it’s in hushed tones.

Your inquiries into his origins and existence yield no concrete answers; after all, he's only been "alive" for a short time and consequently doesn’t know much about himself, his only offering is to explain that Heeseung and Jongseong know the most out of the four of them. And with your promise to Jaeyun to keep his slip-up of spilling the beans to you a secret from his brothers, seeking clarification from the other dolls remains off-limits.

That doll can get you to do anything he asks if he wants to and it’s almost embarrassing to admit.

As you go about your daily routines, you maintain a facade of normalcy, interacting with the other three dolls just as you did before discovering their secret. You speak to them as if they were merely inanimate objects, not expecting any response in return.

Despite your efforts to remain composed, a sense of unease creeps in the longer you’re in the room with any of them that isn’t Jaeyun. You can't shake the feeling that their eyes are following you, tracking your every move with an unsettling intensity. What once was blissful ignorance is now hyper-awareness.

At times, you catch glimpses of movement out of the corner of your eye, only to find objects mysteriously rearranged or misplaced when you turn to investigate. It's a subtle form of mischief, one that leaves you feeling disconcerted and off-balance, unsure of what other tricks they may have up their sleeves.

Jaeyun assures you time and time again that none of his brothers would act in malice, however, his words fail to instil any comfort, especially around Heeseung.

From the moment you arrived at the mansion, Heeseung had captivated you with an inexplicable allure, drawing you in with an intensity that bordered on hypnotic. It was as if he possessed a power unlike any of the other dolls. He was the one that got you to say yes to staying, you know it.

But beneath that surface charm, there's a darkness that unsettles you, a sense of malevolence that lingers in the air whenever he's near. You can't quite put your finger on it, but there's a palpable sense of foreboding that hangs over your interactions with him, like a shadow creeping across your consciousness. He is dangerous and the soul - or whatever it is that he has that brings his doll to life - is entrenched in a dark cloud, one that you want to steer clear of for the rest of your time.

Despite your reservations, you find yourself drawn to Heeseung, unable to resist the pull of his enigmatic presence. But with each passing day, the feeling of unease only grows stronger, leaving you to wonder what secrets lie hidden beneath his doll facade.

You’re cleaning the library and the sun is beaming through the large windows, the hot sun adding an uncomfortable heat to your body.

You continue regardless, wiping your brow and dusting down the shelves with a lime green feather duster you found hidden in the kitchen cupboard. You wanted to do a good job but the library is extensive with wall-to-wall shelves filled with books ranging from present to pre-world war one and you’ll be damned if you’re cleaning each book one at a time; the feather duster will be your new best friend.

As you make your way toward the desk positioned in the centre of the room, a surge of curiosity washes over you, compelling you to indulge in a bit of snooping. The allure of uncovering secrets about the mansion and its mysterious owner, Soonyeol, proves irresistible, fueling your determination to explore further.

With cautious steps, you approach the desk, scanning its surface for any signs of hidden compartments or concealed documents. Your fingers itch with curiosity as you reach for the drawers, your heart pounding with excitement and trepidation. If there are any clues to be found, surely they would be nestled within the confines of this desk.

It’s ridiculous how exciting you find all of this like you’re in some James Bond movie about to uncover the deep secrets of the villain. It’s not that deep but you need to find some excitement in the quiet of this home, so why not make snooping around the fun part of your day?

Beside Jaeyun, of course.

When Jaeyun is with you, you don’t pry into the mansion, scared that he will take it the wrong way, like you’re trying to expose the brothers and their minder.

Listen to yourself, Y/N. You’re worried about a doll’s feelings, you think to yourself and cringe. It’s concerning how much you don’t want to hurt the doll but that’s just the effect he has on you.

Your fingers wrap around the drawer handles, eagerness flowing through you as you prepare to reveal whatever mysteries may be hidden inside. You gently tug on the drawers, but to your dismay, they remain firmly closed, guarding their contents from prying eyes.

Frowning in frustration, you give the handles a harder shake, trying to remove whatever mechanism is keeping them locked. Despite your attempts, the drawers refuse to move, it's secrets tantalisingly out of reach.

“Shit,” you murmur, trying one more time.

Your gaze wanders over the desk, looking for any sign of a key or secret compartment that may lead to the contents of the drawers. Your pulse rushes with excitement as you dig through the desk, brushing your fingertips around the edges in search of a secret latch or trapdoor.

However, as you scan every inch of the desk, your search provides no results, leaving you feeling irritated and dissatisfied. There must be some way to get those drawers open, there’s no way if there wasn’t something secret inside, some form of incriminating evidence about Soonyeol, that she would keep them locked up.

As you stand before the locked drawers, your mind flows with questions regarding Soonyeol's occupation and the mystery surrounding her actual identity. The mansion's vintage furnishings and rows of ancient porcelain dolls appear to point to a career in antique collecting, but an ongoing feeling of anxiety suggests darker possibilities. If she was a mere collector, how on earth did she manage to obtain four dolls who are alive? Is she just insanely clued up on possessed dolls and where to find them on eBay?

You look around the room to see if any pictures are hung suspiciously, all those nights of binge-watching Sherlock Holmes are coming in handy because you know now that pictures almost always hold either a safe or a taped-up key behind them.

You meticulously inspect each picture frame in the library, your eyes scanning for any signs of hidden compartments or concealed keys. You check portrait after portrait, your fingers tracing along the edges of each frame, but your efforts yield no results. Disappointment threatens to overwhelm you as you realise that your search has so far been fruitless.

Why is this proving to be so difficult? Surely there has to be something you can scope out, even a bobby pin would suffice at this point so you can pick at the locks.

Just as you're about to give up hope, your eyes fall upon an unusual floor-length portrait hanging inconspicuously on the far wall. It depicts the bizarre scene of a lamb with a human body, eating its sheep counterparts. It’s an unsettling fusion of outlandish and grotesque. You can't help but grimace at the tasteless decor choice, wondering what possessed Soonyeol to hang such a peculiar painting in her library.

“Seriously? She is one fucked up lady,” you wince to yourself, wondering why she couldn’t just have a poster of some kittens or literally anything else.

Despite your feelings of unease, curiosity overcomes you, and you move forward to inspect the painting more closely. As you reach out to touch the frame, your fingers brush over the edge, and you notice that it seems there is a gap between it and the wall, as if there is something hidden behind it.

With your heart pumping from anticipation, you carefully pull the picture from the wall, exposing a dark wooden door that is concealed behind it. Your breath catches in your throat as you realise that this may be the breakthrough you've been waiting for. With shaky hands, you reach for the rusted doorknob and give it a cautious jiggle.

But just like the locked drawers, the door remains firmly sealed shut, thwarting your attempts to uncover its secrets. You groan out loud, tossing your head back and shutting your eyes in frustration.

"What has a girl gotta do to find out what the fuck is going on in this place?" you mutter under your breath, your voice tinged with frustration and determination. You refuse to be deterred by this setback, knowing that you're not one to give up easily.

Gathering your resolve, you kneel down to inspect the door handle, your fingers tracing the contours of the keyhole with a sense of anticipation. You can feel the weight of the unknown pressing down on you, the tension in the air palpable as you prepare to uncover whatever secrets lie beyond this enigmatic door.

As you peer inside the keyhole, your breath catches in your throat, your eyes straining to penetrate the darkness that shrouds the room. Every fibre of your being is on high alert, a sense of anticipation tingling at the back of your mind.

But then, just as you begin to make out the faintest hint of movement within the darkness, something catches your eye - a faint glimmer of red light flickering like a flame from within the depths of the keyhole. Your heart skips a beat as a surge of apprehension courses through you, a sense of foreboding tightening its grip on your chest.

What is that?

Your heartbeat quickens as you realise whatever it is, it’s not good and it’s trapped behind that door for a reason. You squint your eyes further, trying to focus on the faint shapes you can see throughout the room but it’s proving difficult, the red beam being your only sense of light.

Time appears to slow to a crawl as you watch the red light pulse and flutter, its intensity increasing with each passing moment. Your palms go sweaty in anticipation, and the hair on the back of your neck stands on edge as you brace yourself to find out what is behind the door.

Then, without warning, just as you go to reach for the handle once again, the red light bursts brightly, obscuring your eyes. With a startled scream, you stagger backwards and deck onto the hardwood floor, your heart beating as adrenaline rushes through your veins. The room swirls around you as you try to regain some form of direction, your senses overwhelmed by the abrupt blast of light and the overpowering feeling of dread that persists in the air.

“Fuck!” you manage to yell out and as your senses slowly return, you find yourself gasping for breath, the remnants of the red flame still burning brightly in your vision, creating white spots behind your eyelids. With trembling hands, you reach out to steady yourself, your heart pounding in your chest as your blood pumps nervously through your veins.

In a daze, you glance to your right, your gaze falls upon the portrait you had removed from the wall and it's changed - it is now portraying a human head with a sheeps body, eating it's mesty carcass, blood smeared over it's mouth and wool.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you quickly rush to replace it, your hands shaking as you fumble with the frame. Your heart feels as though it's about to burst from your chest as you struggle to hang the painting back in its rightful place.

Finally, with the portrait back on the wall, you step back, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to steady your racing heart and swallow the sick that rose from the pit of your stomach out of fear.

But as you turn around, your heart jolts to a panicked stop in your chest as a new wave of terror washes over you. Sitting there, in the corner of the room where there was nothing before, is one of the dolls - Park Sunghoon, motionless and silent.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you are the last thing I need right now,” you say in frustration, pinching your eyes to extract the last few spots from your vision. It’s bad enough that you’ve just been blinded by god knows what, and now you’re being startled by Sunghoon’s sudden appearance.

Breathing out, you compose yourself and nod, “Okay, so I won’t be going near that door again,” you swallow thickly, trying to inject a laugh to lighten your heavy heart. Scouring around in Soonyeol’s drawers was one thing but you would rather be massacred by a hatchet at the hands of dear Sunghoon over there than find out whatever the fuck is behind that door.

As you regain your composure, a manic laugh escapes your lips, a mix of nervous energy and relief bubbling to the surface. Sunghoon remains motionless, his expression unchanged, as if unaffected by the chaos unfolding around him.

You approach him with a mixture of curiosity, noticing the pair of frameless glasses perched on his face. It's a strange sight as you certainly didn’t put them on him this morning because why on earth would a doll need reading glasses?

"A fashion statement?" you quip, tapping the side of the lenses lightly. The failed joke eases some of the tension that still lingers in the air, and you find yourself chuckling softly as you take a seat on the table beside him.

Leaning in close, you lift Sunghoon's chin to meet your gaze, studying his features with fascination and admiration. Despite the unsettling circumstances, there's a strange comfort in his presence, a sense of solace that washes over you as you take in his ethereal beauty.

His hair falls in soft waves around his face, his bangs framing his eyes in the most captivating way. His features are striking, from the delicate freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks to the sharp line of his jaw. Sunghoon's beauty is almost otherworldly, captivating you in a way that you can't quite explain.

"You'll protect me from whatever is in there, right?" you joke, trying to lighten the mood but Sunghoon sits mute and unmoving. You ponder if staying still like that hurts them or is uncomfortable; does it just come naturally? There are so many questions but after that ordeal, you’ll give up on prying for now.

You pat Sunghoon's cheek softly, smiling down at him before deciding to press on with your chores, hoping that the mundane tasks will help ease some of the weight from your shoulders and restore a sense of normalcy to your day.

With careful hands, you adjust Sunghoon's head to stare forward once more, a futile attempt to spare him any unnecessary discomfort - although you can't help but wonder if he's even capable of feeling pain. Setting him back in place, you make your way to the desk and retrieve your duster, ready to resume your duties.

Focusing your attention on the far side of the room, away from the ominous door, you begin to polish the ancient globe that sits near the entranceway.

Spinning it idly, you sigh and think about all the places you want to see before you die. You’ve been stuck in this city your whole life only going as far as hopping from city to city and you are in dire need of some vacation time. Maybe it’s the red light that almost blinded you, but you’ve never felt more of an urge to pack up and go.

Maybe it’s just this place you need to get away from.

But you’re stuck, something is keeping you here. Any normal person who saw what was behind that door would have run for the hills and never looked back, yet, despite the fear in your body that lingers deep inside, you don’t want to leave.

You’ve said this whole time it’s for the money but you could find work somewhere else, a job that wouldn’t give you chills in your bones.

Once you’ve settled your nerves fully, you want to keep investigating this place and find out why Jaeyun and the other dolls are alive, and unfortunately for you, you have a sneaking suspicion that whatever is behind that door might just hold your answers.

As you continue to clean, your eye is pulled to an object perched on one of the shelves: an old camera. Intrigued, you approach it, admiring its appearance with a mix of curiosity and nostalgia. The camera's folding body, made of worn leather, emanates timeless beauty and carved nameplates on the side hint at its extensive past.

Upon closer inspection, you recognise it as a model from the 1940s or 1950s, similar to the Agifold your grandmother used to own. Memories of her beloved camera fill your thoughts, followed by a twinge of regret that you never got the opportunity to use it yourself. But now, with no one to stop you, an opportunity presents itself.

Gently, you pick it up and inspect it further, opening the back to see some film still lodged inside. You gently pick up the camera, its weight cooling in your hands. Opening the back panel, you uncover a roll of film that is still wedged inside.

Raising the camera to your eye, you adjust the focus and squint, searching for the perfect angle to capture the essence of the room. With a steady hand, you press the shutter button, the satisfying click echoing in the silence of the room.

Flash.

As you lower the camera from your eye, a satisfied smile tugs at the corners of your lips. But as your gaze sweeps across the room, a chill creeps down your spine, and the smile freezes on your face.

Something is…different.

You scour the room, your eyes darting from one corner to the next in an attempt to discern what has changed so abruptly. It feels as though the world shifted in the blink of an eye, leaving you disoriented and on edge. The familiar sights of the room offer little solace as you search for any sign of what could have caused the sudden disturbance.

The painting of the sheep still hangs on the wall, which means the door remains shut - good. The books on the shelves remain undisturbed, their spines aligned in neat rows. The windows are shut tight, allowing only a faint breeze to filter through the cracks in the draught. Everything appears to be as it was before, except for one glaring absence.

Sunghoon.

Your breath catches in your throat as you realise that the lifelike doll is no longer within your line of sight. He has vanished without a trace, leaving behind only an eerie emptiness in his wake.

A shiver runs down your spine as you consider the implications of his disappearance. Despite Jaeyun's assurances that his brothers are harmless, you cannot shake the feeling of unease that settles over you like a heavy fog. Even though Jaeyun is kind to you, the others may not share his benevolence. In a house filled with secrets and shadows, trust is a fragile thing, easily shattered by the slightest whisper of doubt.

“You shouldn’t go around touching things that aren’t yours,” a hushed voice flows from behind you, taking advantage of your transfixed body to reach around your waist and take the camera from your trembling hands.

As he lets out a chuckle, Sunghoon moves around you with grace, returning the camera to its rightful place on the shelf. His towering presence now looms over you, casting a shadow that seems to swallow you whole.

Yet, you don’t feel threatened like you thought you would, somehow it was his lack of presence that put you on edge but now that he is standing before you, you know deep down you are in no harm. Your body relaxes a little, your spine finding its strength again as you straighten your posture.

Your movements amuse Sunghoon, his tongue running along his prominent canine as he smirks, “You don’t seem surprised?” he asks but it’s more of a statement than a question. He knows you must have already been in on their secret, “So was it Jaeyun? Did he spill like we thought he would?”

Jaeyun’s saddened face pops up into your head after your first time with him, begging you not to tell the others as they already see him as incompetent. The memory tickles your heart and you start to shake your head definitively, “No, I am shocked, look!” you say, bringing up your shaky hands to his eye level, a feeble attempt to convince Sunghoon.

“Oh really? Then why didn’t you question how I moved from my bedroom to the library without you carting me around in that fuck awful wheelchair?” Sunghoon queries, raising his eyebrow in mock suspicion. He knows you know, he’s just waiting for you to admit it.

“No, I…I just thought…I was…”

“You are a terrible liar, Y/N,” he scoffs out an endeared laugh and pushes your hand away from his face, “It was him, wasn’t it?”

Your heart pounds against your chest as Sunghoon’s stare holds you captive, those beautiful glass eyes slowly dissolving your loyalty to Jaeyun. You are trying so hard to come up with an excuse as to how you know their secret but the doll before you is so alluring in his beauty that your brain might as well be replaced with a tin of mushy peas.

He licks his bottom lip and starts to laugh as your silence becomes his confirmation.

“Shit,” you huff out, looking down, feeling bad for betraying Jaeyun like this. One tiny secret was all you had to keep and you’ve given it up without even uttering a word. Fuck these dolls and their power over your resolve.

Sunghoon looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head in disbelief, “He really can’t keep his mouth shut,” he says to himself quietly, astonished that he even had any faith in the yapping puppy to begin with.

Your back goes up, eyebrows knitting together, “Hey! Don’t blame him like that,” you say defensively.

He halts his laughter and slowly looks at you, tilting his head, “Oh?...oh…” he mutters, a wide smile of bewilderment appearing on his face as he starts to piece you and Jaeyun’s relationship together, “How on earth did he manage to pull you? Did he give you a bat of his lashes and that signature pout? Did he make his eyes do that stupid sparkle? Hmm?”

You're taken aback by Sunghoon's accurate description, a mix of surprise and embarrassment colouring your expression. How did he know exactly what Jaeyun had done to win you over? Does Jaeyun do this with every housesitter?

Sunghoon watches your reaction with amusement, his grin widening as he sees the realisation dawn on you. "Ah, I see it now," he says, his voice tinged with playful mockery, "He's quite the charmer, isn't he? You know, he isn’t as innocent as he looks, he knows what he is doing."

You shift from one foot to another, looking down at your hands. It’s embarrassing for any woman to be hit with the truck of truth, especially when it’s about succumbing to a man, but a doll? That’s even more humbling.

Lifting your chin, he gives you a smug smile as he sees inside your mind, “You shouldn’t feel ashamed, baby girl, Soonyeol is the same. She loves it - to look after him, coddle him whenever he wants, and give him kisses in passing,” he leans down to make direct eye contact with you, a flash of something behind his iris’ brings you to attention as he continues, “That’s all that matters, isn’t it, that you have fun?”

You feel yourself nodding because he’s right. Inside of yourself, you knew Jaeyun was luring you into bed but you wanted it just as much as him, so did you really get played? And you enjoy his company, his constant telling of stories and his high energy, you’ve grown to cherish him with each passing conversation.

Sunghoon observes the gears turning in your mind. "Can I tell you something?" he asks, his lips whispering over your cheek. You nod, permitting him to continue, your eyes fixed on his as he leans in closer, his lips almost brushing against your ear. "He's been unusually happy since you arrived," he murmurs softly, "I think you might be his new favourite person."

His admission causes a warm flush to spread across your cheeks, a mixture of surprise and delight flooding your senses. Knowing that Jaeyun feels a similar connection to you fills you with a sense of happiness and validation. You can envision Jaeyun becoming a lifelong friend, someone you cherish deeply.

While his initial intent might have been to charm you into fucking him, the time you've spent together since then feels genuine and sincere. You take comfort in knowing that Jaeyun values your companionship and enjoys your presence for more than just physical intimacy.

Sunghoon inhales sharply through his teeth, a disapproving tsk escaping him, "I don't think Soonyeol would be too pleased about that," he remarks, pulling back slightly as if considering the ramifications. "After all, Jaeyun is her favourite, and if she were to discover you've been fucking her precious little puppy..."

Your eyes widen in alarm as you grasp the implication of his words, shaking your head frantically as you instinctively raise your hands in a defensive gesture, "No, no, no, you can't tell her!" you exclaim, your voice tinged with desperation. You find yourself on the verge of pleading, almost dropping to your knees in a last-ditch effort to appeal to Sunghoon's mercy, "I need this job," you implore, your voice trembling with anxiety.

Sunghoon's lips curl into a sly smirk as he watches your panic-stricken reaction. "Well, I suppose I could keep my mouth shut..." he muses, drawing out the suspense and relishing in your apprehension.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hang on to his words, hope flickering within you at the possibility of him relenting. But just as quickly as your hope appears, it’s gone as you see the dark shimmer in his eyes behind his glasses, the way his tongue is sitting on the inside of his cheek as he watches you.

“You can’t be serious? You’re blackmailing me into having sex with you?” you retort, the revulsion evident in your tone.

"I'm not a creep, Y/N, I wouldn't do that," Sunghoon responds, a hint of offence lacing his words. As you meet his gaze, you feel a pang of regret for assuming the worst about him. But he lowers his voice, his eyes hooded as they lock onto yours. "I'd only fuck you if you wanted me to," he murmurs, the timbre of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. You find yourself involuntarily rubbing your thighs together, a nervous habit forming as you bite your lip.

Sunghoon's hands find their way to your waist, drawing you closer until he’s pressed firmly against you. His nearness is intoxicating, and you can't help but tip-toe to etch closer to his face, craving more of his presence. His lips hover tantalisingly close to yours, teasing you with the promise of something more.

"Oh? Would you like that?" he asks smugly, his grip on your waist tightening as he effortlessly makes you melt under his touch, succumbing to him like putty in his hands. It's crazy how much power these dolls possess over you, their allure is irresistible and their influence undeniable.

His smug expression only adds to the internal chaos, making you feel both irritated and strangely drawn to him. You want this more than you would like to admit, perhaps it was the comfort he was bringing to you after your ordeal with the door, or maybe it’s because you’re an idiot that simply wants to fuck him.

Sometimes there is no other reason than pure lust.

Sunghoon's grin widens as he sees you surrender to him, his fingers dancing on your waist as he leans in even closer, closing the already minimal gap between your lips and before you can fully comprehend what's happening, his lips brush against yours in a teasingly soft caress. It's a fleeting touch, but it ignites a fire within you, awakening something.

You're acutely aware of how vulnerable you are in this moment, how easily Sunghoon has managed to unravel your defences and ensnare you in his web of temptation. He is doing exactly what Jaeyun did to you last week, and just the same, you’re letting him because you want it.

"Tell me to stop," Sunghoon whispers, his voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart. His hands continue their gentle exploration, tracing the contours of your sides with a feather-light touch that sends tremors of pleasure coursing through your body.

It's a cruel temptation, the way he places the power in your hands, knowing full well that you won't utter that simple word; not when every caress feels like fire against your shivering skin.

Instead, you close the gap, your mouth melding against his as your once shaky hands now thread through his hair, pulling him further into you. You can feel his victorious smile against your lips as he guides you to sit on the very desk you were snooping around earlier, pressing your ass against the edge.

He briskly undoes your jean buttons, his lips planting one long kiss on yours before he sinks past your tits and stomach until he is on his knees in front of your pussy. Teasingly, he pulls down your bottoms, slowly but surely exposing your dampened core to him.

“There you are,” he mutters, placing a gentle peck on your pubic bone, his lips lingering there as he savours the moment. He looks up at you behind his glasses and smirks as he sees your chest rising and falling in anticipation, “I’ll make sure you feel good, baby girl, don’t worry.”

His smirk widens as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin as he trails kisses along the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. Each touch is deliberate, calculated to elicit a response from you, and you can't help but arch your back in anticipation, silently urging him to continue.

With a soft sigh of contentment, Sunghoon grants your unspoken desires, his tongue delicately tracing the beginning of your slit. He flattens it against your tender flesh, savouring the taste of you as he lingers there, lost in the intoxicating sensation of your essence.

You grind your hips onto his face and before you know it, you’re riding his face, using your hips to move your clit along his rigid tongue. Your fingers desperately seek to find refuge on a surface to steady you, which they find in his hair, tugging gently at his scalp to help anchor you.

Sunghoon is loving it as much as you are, the smile on his face is a testament to this. He pries your legs further apart to sink his mouth further into your heat, the tip of his wet muscle now working in tandem with your hips to help you out.

"F-fuck," you moan breathlessly, your body arching instinctively towards him as he spreads your folds between the fingers of his right hand. Anticipation courses through your veins as he teases you with soft, long licks, each stroke of his tongue sending waves cascading through your body.

You're consumed by both pleasure and longing, your senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating sensation of his touch. Every lingering, deliberate swipe of his tongue against your clit makes it throb with need, and you find yourself clenching around nothing, yearning for more.

You want him to go faster, to get you to the edge quickly so he can fuck you against this desk, but at the same time, you're intoxicated by the slow, deliberate pace of his movements. He’s so good at this it’s almost awe-inspiring.

Sunghoon's long fingers stroke up and down your folds with a delicate touch, savouring the sight of you spread open before him. But he needs more, he wants to see you completely exposed and at his mercy. With a determined gaze, he shifts your legs over his shoulders, positioning you firmly on the edge of the wooden desk.

"Your pussy is the closest to heaven I'll ever get," he remarks, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes in your needy expression. Your whimper for attention to your clit only fuels his desire further, "I want to make you beg so bad, baby girl," he adds, his voice dripping with need, "but I don't want to wait to see what it feels like to have you cumming on my tongue."

The plea escapes your lips before you can stop it, your desire overriding any sense of restraint, "Please, Sunghoon," you moan, your hips instinctively thrusting towards him, begging for his touch.

He can't resist the temptation any longer. With a hunger that borders on desperation, Sunghoon spreads your folds open once again, his gaze fixated on you in this new position. He licks his lips in anticipation, his mouth watering at the sight of your glistening wetness.

His tongue flicks over your hood, teasing your clit with quick, back-and-forth strokes that send electric shocks through your veins. You writhe beneath him, lost in the overwhelming sensation of his touch as he expertly pushes you to the edge.

Sunghoon’s glasses steam up as he switches between licking and sucking your clit, drawing out moans of pleasure from both of you. There is nothing he loves more than eating pussy, the feeling of someone’s sweetness on his tongue is the best feeling he’ll ever know, he could spend hours just worshipping each and every cunt on the planet.

But he knew from the moment you walked in, that he had to have just one taste of you.

“Sunghoon, fuck,” you moan through bated breaths, holding his head hostage between your legs - not that he minds, the desperation your exhibiting only heightens his desire to consume every part of you, to make you unravel under his touch.

Your back presses against the desk, the crumpled documents from Soonyeol's work forgotten beneath your squirming body. In this moment, nothing matters except the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you both.

Sensing that you're on the brink of orgasm, Sunghoon dips two of his fingers into your warm, inviting heat, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Fuck, Sunghoon, yes," you scream, your voice filled with desperation and hunger as his fingers join his mouth to drive you wild. You're teetering on the verge of bliss, your body twitching with anticipation as he deftly guides you to the peaks of pleasure.

"That's it, baby girl," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "Let go for me..."

As the waves of your orgasm wash over you, you cry out his name, your body trembling with the intensity of your release. Sunghoon watches you with a satisfied smile, his own desire burning brightly in his eyes. His fingers never let up, continuing to pump in and out of you as your climax washes over you, coating his hand and even spurting onto his face.

Standing up, Sunghoon keeps his digits buried deep inside you, still wriggling them around as he leans over your spent body on the desk. "If this is you with just my mouth and fingers," he says, pausing to give you a sweet kiss, "then just imagine you on my cock."

His words send a shiver of want down your spine, and you can't help but imagine the feeling of him buried deep inside you, filling you completely. The thought alone is enough to reignite the fire of desire within you, and you find yourself yearning for more of him, for the pleasure only he can provide.

Withdrawing his fingers from you, he brings them to his mouth, licking himself clean of your cum. The sight has you gasping, wishing his mouth was back on you, using that tongue just one more time. Sunghoon sees the need in your eyes and smiles cockily.

"You want a taste?" he asks, already offering his fingers to your parted lips. You eagerly accept, sucking and licking them clean, savouring the lingering taste of yourself on his skin. "You taste unreal, right?" he remarks, his voice husky with desire.

You nod, popping your mouth off his fingers, "How can you taste me if you've got no taste buds?" you ask, genuinely curious. There's still so much you don't know about these dolls, and each revelation only adds to your intrigue.

"Ah, we're all different makes. Some have functions others don't," Sunghoon explains as he begins to undress, leaving him in only his boxers and glasses.

"So you can taste? What can the others do?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued.

"You bored of me already, baby girl?" he teases, deflecting your question with a smirk. His hands grip the bottom of your t-shirt, and with a swift motion, he lifts it over your head, leaving you exposed and vulnerable on the desk, "The real question you should be asking is what else I can do."

You lie naked before him, anticipation palpable in your expression as you look him up and down, suddenly intrigued by the possibilities. "What can you do?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, eager to discover the depths of pleasure he can offer.

“Let me show you,” he murmurs, his voice low and seductive.

He pushes his boxers down, revealing his throbbing arousal. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, his length throbbing in his hands. Each time he pumps, the pulsing of the fake veins quickens. He presses his cock against your folds and you feel the pulse.

"Do you feel it?" Sunghoon asks, already knowing the answer as he watches you involuntarily move your hips, seeking more of the delicious friction his cock provides.

You nod eagerly, your desire mounting with each passing moment. The anticipation of what's to come sends a wave of heat rushing through you, and you can't help but yearn for more of him.

You understand Soonyeol a lot more now.

Slowly, Sunghoon guides himself to your entrance to let you feel the throbbing more intensely as he begins to push inside you. The sensation is electrifying, sending your body into a flush as he fills you completely with his length.

Imagine if every man possessed this kind of touch; maybe, just maybe, there'd be less reason to complain. It's like slipping into a dream, feeling his hands explore every inch of you as he eases into a gentle rhythm of thrusting.

You find yourself lost in the sensation, every nerve ending alive with anticipation. His movements synchronise with the rhythm of your heartbeat, building a crescendo of desire.

You can't help but draw comparisons to Jaeyun, though you don't mean to. Their approaches to pleasing you are starkly different. Jaeyun is fervent and eager, consumed by his own need for you. His passion is raw and primal, leaving you breathless and craving more, even as you revel in the intensity of his desire.

In contrast, Sunghoon's touch is confident and measured. Each thrust is a masterpiece of skill and intention, as if his sole purpose is to ensure you experience the pinnacle of pleasure. There's a depth to his movements, leaving you utterly captivated by the artistry of his fucking. He was born to do this.

Once he senses your body yielding to him, growing accustomed to the girth of his cock, he presses his hand firmly against your lower stomach, anchoring you to the desk as he intensifies his rhythm. His muscles tense with each powerful thrust, driving deeper into you with a primal urgency.

"God, you're tight," he remarks, a cocky grin spreading across his face. His glasses slip down the bridge of his nose, his tousled hair falling into his eyes, "Are you sure Jaeyun's been fucking you?" he teases, his voice laced with playful arrogance as he revels in the control he holds over your pleasure.

As Sunghoon's words cut through the haze of pleasure, a pang of guilt tugs at your conscience. Despite the lust coursing through you, his casual dismissal of Jaeyun stirs conflicting emotions within you. Jaeyun may not be perfect, but he holds a place in your heart that you can't deny.

"I... I don't like when you talk about him like that," you manage to say between breaths, your voice wavering slightly.

But that only makes him pound into you deeper as you cry out. Your hands reach for his arm as you grip it tightly, trying to keep yourself grounded as he fucks you with an intensity like never before.

Sunghoon's response is a low growl, his grip on you tightening as he drives into you with an almost punishing force, "You don't want me talking about your little puppy?" he taunts, his words laced with a mixture of lust and disdain. The sound of the drawers rattling beneath you only adds to the chaotic symphony of pleasure and pain enveloping you.

Your head swims with conflicting desires, torn between the familiar comfort of Jaeyun's touch and the intoxicating thrill of Sunghoon's dominance. And as his thumb finds its way to your clit, sending bolts of ecstasy shooting through your body, you can't help but succumb to the overwhelming pleasure, surrendering yourself completely to the man who's determined to claim you as his own.

"I hit a nerve, huh?" Sunghoon's laughter rings out, a mixture of amusement and triumph lacing his words as he continues to tease your sensitive clit, each flick sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You try to form a coherent response, but all that escapes your lips are desperate moans and gasps as Sunghoon's relentless assault pushes you closer to the edge. Sensations overwhelm your senses, leaving you trembling and breathless in his grasp.

"What's the matter, Y/N?" Sunghoon's voice drips with mock concern, his tone betraying his underlying satisfaction, "Did I touch a sore spot because you know I’m right? That pup could never fuck you this good, just admit it." His thumb circles your clit once more, sending a bolt of lightning up your body.

You bite back a whimper, your mind clouded with a mixture of arousal and frustration. The realisation dawns on you that you're caught in the middle of a rivalry, a competition between two men, each determined to outdo the other.

But amidst the chaos of conflicting emotions, one thing becomes clear - in this moment, there is only Sunghoon, his touch, his dominance, consuming you completely.

As Sunghoon redoubles his efforts, fucking into you so good you think you might struggle to walk for a week, you find yourself surrendering to him; but as long as you’re getting fucked like this, who cares?

"Sunghoon," you manage to gasp out between ragged breaths, your voice pleading yet smothered with arousal, "Please..."

He pauses, his movements slowing as he looks down at you, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Please what, Y/N?" he taunts, his voice dripping with amusement, "Do you want me to stop?"

You shake your head frantically, unable to form a coherent response, "No," you whimper, your fingers clutching at the edge of the desk for support, "Fuck...don't stop."

A wicked grin spreads across Sunghoon's face as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear, "That's what I thought, baby girl.” He kisses you messily, his fingers circling your sensitive bud as he continues his pace.

Sunghoon's eyes latch on yours, a knowing grin on his lips as he awaits your release. The air crackles with eagerness, "You're almost there, aren't you, Y/N?" Sunghoon's voice is deep and husky, sending shivers down your spine as his words stoke the fire inside you, "Just a little more..."

His words propel you over the brink, sending you spinning into oblivion as waves of ecstasy rush over you. You yell out his name, your body quivering with the intensity of your release as you surrender totally to the euphoria surging through you.

Sunghoon stares at you with dark, hungry eyes, his own release near as he continues to push into you with unwavering passion. He turns his thrusts from rapid to sharp, the vibration excruciating with each punch of the tip of his cock to your linings. He is so smug as you knock the lamp off the table by accident, too busy trying to escape the overstimulation you’re pussy is experiencing, but he holds you still.

"Give me just one more minute, baby girl, you can handle it, right?" he rasps, his voice thick with desire, eliciting a groan from you. He's moving with the intensity of an animal, overwhelming yet fucking satisfying.

His glasses teeter on the edge of his nose, moving by the force of his thrusts. With a swift motion, you snatch them from his face, placing them on your own and viewing him through a new lens. He's breathtakingly beautiful, with or without the glasses, but especially in this moment.

"Please, Hoonie, cum inside me," you plead, pushing the glasses to the tip of your nose. As Sunghoon takes in the sight of you, combined with your newfound nickname for him, he loses all semblance of control.

With a final, powerful thrust, he spills into you, his release coating your insides as some spills onto the desk below. The vibrations from his cock cease, and he remains still inside you, his face buried in your neck as he trembles with the intensity of his climax.

Sunghoon's trembling subsides as he lifts his head from your neck, his eyes locking with yours in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss, "You're incredible, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and reverence, “I can’t let him have you to himself,” he admits, a smirk playing on his face.

You return his smile, your chest still heaving and your body buzzing with the aftermath of your shared passion. "He did mention that Soonyeol shares you all," you point out, a playful glint in your eyes.

Sunghoon nods, his expression turning serious as he brushes a strand of damp hair away from your face. "True, but she doesn't exactly fuck us every day," he confesses, his voice low and husky with desire, mischief evident in his expression.

"We don't have to..." you begin, but Sunghoon cuts you off with a determined look.

"You're fucking mad if you think for a second I'm going to let any opportunity to have you slip away," he declares, his tone leaving no room for argument, "I'll take you whenever and wherever I can, Y/N. That's a promise."

“Am I going to have to sort out a rota?” you joke, giggling as you begin to sit up, his cock slipping out of you with a soft pop.

Taking a tissue from the box laid on the desk, he wipes you down, something Jaeyun doesn’t do at all. But Jaeyun does cuddle which is something you can’t imagine Sunghoon doing.

As he tosses the tissue into the waste basket and begins to get dressed, you watch him with a mixture of affection and anticipation. "Put me on the first shift tomorrow, yeah?" he requests, his voice tinged with eagerness.

You nod with a smile, already looking forward to the next time you'll be together. "Consider it done," you agree, a spark of excitement igniting within you at the prospect of what tomorrow might bring.

You hop off the desk and begin to put your clothes back on, satisfaction courses through your body, yet your mind remains unsettled. There’s one lingering question you hope Sunghoon can answer before he retreats back to his room.

“Hey, Hoonie?” you shout before he reaches the door to exit. He turns around and looks at you expectantly, “What’s behind that door?” It’s a loaded question but one you need answers. No amount of fucking can make you forget that spine-curling red light.

Sunghoon sighs, his steps retracing back to where you stand, his hands reaching for your face. You wonder what he's up to until you feel him peel off his glasses, giving them a quick clean before settling them back on his nose.

“Do me a favour?” he asks, his tone carrying a weight you can't ignore. You nod, hoping he'll grant your request for insight into the mystery beyond that door.

“I won’t tell Soonyeol about you fucking us if you agree to stop sticking your nose into matters that don't concern you, understood?” his words sting, his stare unwavering as he awaits your response. Whatever lies behind that door is a sensitive topic, only fueling your curiosity further.

There’s no denying you need this job though, so with a reluctant sigh, you nod in agreement, accepting the terms of his proposal, "Okay, Hoonie," you concede, the weight of your decision settling heavily on your shoulders, "You have a deal."

Sunghoon's lips curve into a small smile, a glimmer of appreciation shining in his eyes. "Good," he replies, his voice softening with approval. "Now, let's keep this between us, shall we? Jaeyun doesn’t even know and if Heeseung catches a whiff that you know about that thing, he will kill you before you can even attempt to find a key.”

His warning sits like vomit in your throat at the mention of Heeseung, the most mysterious one of them all. You don’t know enough about the cherry-haired doll to debunk whether Sunghoon is joking or not.

You offer him a solemn nod, a silent promise to uphold your end of the bargain. But what he doesn’t know is that as he leaves, you have your fingers crossed behind your back.

taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @ui11iane @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @belowbun @emi-en @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre

#enhypen smut #enha smut #sunghoon smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #park sunghoon smut #enhypen fic #enha fic #; tdh #aj writes

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bby-deerling · 3 days

Note

Love your Hcs ❤️ they're so creative 🥰😋🎉

would you do one for me "caught in the act" - with Zoro, Kid and Law making love to you when suddenly someone of their crew enters (they don't know about your relationship) 🙏pleeasssee

getting caught with you (nsfw)

masterlist || commissions

cw: secret relationships (being exposed), zoro's part turns into a circus, zoro is an idiot (<3), lowkey crack taken seriously, kid is a menace, brat taming (w/kid), rough sex (w/kid), exhibitionism kinda (w/kid)

tagging: @willowbelle @eelnoise @fanaticsnail @indydonuts @zorolux

zoro

so caught up in the delirium of each other's touch, neither you nor zoro notice sanji entering the supply closet until he lets out a gasp and promptly faints from blood loss upon catching a glimpse of your naked form. both of you scrambling as the loud thud of the cook collapsing to the floor prompts the signature clack of nami's heels to approach the pantry, zoro hastily throws a nearby tarp over both of your bodies right as the navigator swings open the door.

"ew, gross!" she squeals, her scream echoing loudly and luring in the rest of your friends who were milling around nearby on the deck. while chopper barely even registers what's going on with you and zoro, more focused on attending to sanji's well-being, usopp, brook, and luffy are all laughing hysterically, though luffy is more so laughing along because everyone else is. that much is clear when he loudly asks why you both are naked, wondering if you'd both ripped your clothes or something similar.

"they were having sex, luffy!" usopp hisses, and luffy's eyes widen before he grins. "oh! you two must really like each other then, huh?" he exclaims with a smile as chopper helps sanji to his feet. zoro's patience was already wearing thin, but when the cook shoots a biting remark about the swordsman not deserving you his way, he's up in an instant and ready to clash with him, completely forgetting that he was naked. when the rest of your crewmates shriek in shock, he mindlessly and instinctively grabs the tarp that was covering both of you, accidentally exposing you.

"zoro, what the hell!" you squeak out, as robin creates a barrier of hands around your body to shield your privacy, using some of them to return some of your clothes to you so that you can get dressed.

"sorry..." he mumbles as he grabs his sweatpants and pulls them up quickly, before snapping at the rest of the crew to quit staring.

"blech. are you two together? because i made a bet that..." nami starts, and both of you cut her off with a simultaneous yes; usopp sighs as he hands the navigator a handful of cash, and the crew begins to disperse, including you and zoro, who are now far too embarrassed to finish what you had started.

kid

"you gonna keep staring, killer? you can stay and watch if ya' want." kid taunts when killer opens the door to his bedroom and finds you splayed out underneath him; though your relationship was a secret from the rest of the crew, it's a sight killer was accustomed to walking in on, and he simply sighs and rolls his eyes from underneath his mask. kid doesn't stop the movements of his hips for a moment, causing you to smack him on the forehead and tell him to cut it out until killer leaves the room.

"dinner is served. was wondering if you two planned on coming to eat any time soon." killer says, almost bored and completely unfazed.

"kinda busy here." kid replies, tilting his head towards you as you cover up your breasts with your arms, annoyed.

"i'll save a couple plates then." killer says, letting out a small, irritated sigh as he leaves the room, thankful that his mask hides the secret blush on his face.

"you're a real asshole, you know that? you can't even bother to cover me up?" you hiss at him once the door shuts, but your angry ramblings are broken up by gasps as he slams his thick cock deep inside of you.

"y'know i just love fucking the attitude out of you, pipsqueak. i know you love it too." he replies with a smirk; you let out a huff as you bite back a moan, knowing full well that he's right.

law

as the soft hum of music and a mixture of moans fills law's office, the two of you are too wrapped up with entwining tongues with each other and the way he lazily thrusts into your sloppy pussy to notice the creak of the door as it opens.

"oops, sorry captain!" shachi exclaims, doubling over laughing as both of you nearly jump out of your skin from the sound of his voice. for a split second, law considers simply teleporting both of you to his bedroom to continue unraveling you, but he knows that refusing to talk about this with shachi would cause misinformation to spread around the submarine like wildfire; so, he thanks every star hanging above his head that the two of you were already underneath a throw blanket and puts all of his weight on top of you to shield your body further.

"what do i have to do to get you to keep this a secret?" law asks with a deep sigh, neck straining as he looks up at his snickering friend.

shachi taps his finger on his chin a few times as he hums, trying to make sure he comes up with the most advantageous answer possible for himself. "no night shift or cleaning the floors for a month." he says with a smirk; law relents, giving him a nod before telling him to get out of here, which shachi responds to with an enthusiastic "yes, captain!"

though before he can slip out of the office, the door swings open once more; this time it's bepo, who lets out a loud gasp, his eyes widening until he suddenly turns on his feet and starts screaming down the hallway to anyone who would listen that the two of you were finally together.

"dammit bepo, you ruined my deal!" shachi yells as he follows his polar bear friend, causing law to sigh and teleport a heavy chair against the door, preventing anyone else from walking in and interrupting his attempts to shower you with affection from the inside out.

#one piece x reader #zoro x reader #law x reader #eustass kid x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #trafalgar law x reader #eutass kidd x reader #zoro x you #law x you #eustass kid x you #one piece headcanons #one piece drabble #one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #zoro smut #law smut #eustass kid smut

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woso-dreamzzz · 18 hours

Text

Allergies II

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adeventures Universe

Summary: You have another allergic reaction

In all honesty, you didn't really think it was that serious.

Nutrition meetings at Barcelona were a lot more in depth than what you were used to at Arsenal. They took ages and were full of information that would probably be interesting if you actually cared but, alas, nutrition had never been as interesting to you as other subjects so you tended to just zone out.

You were handed a new smoothie with some kind of new protein powder in or something you would have known if you actually listened.

You drank it.

That's when things start to get weird.

The nutritionist continues to drone on and you frown, scratching at your neck.

You stare down at your bottle for a moment as your throat goes all scratchy and intense.

You force yourself to swallow before glancing around.

Your throat gets a bit tighter.

No one else seems to be having such a reaction so you unscrew the top of your bottle to peer inside. You sniff the mixture before standing up.

You can feel people watch as you make your way over to the first aid kit at the front of the room. Your throat has fully closed up now and you know that you're turning alarmingly red and probably breaking out in hives.

Honestly, you feel a little bit shocked how you're even conscious right now but you grab your epipen and stab it into your leg.

"Banana," You say plainly," I can't eat that."

Even with the adrenaline now pumping through your system, you slide your way down the wall to sit on the floor, breathing in deeply.

The room erupts into chaos the moment you sit down.

The medical staff come in to check your blood pressure and your throat and the expiration date of your epipen. The nutritionist leading the session is going absolutely ballistic yelling at one of her assistants for not checking the allergy sheets before making and handing out the smoothies.

Talia looks close to tears as she forces her way towards you, practically shoving some of the medics away. "Are you okay? Is it bad? Do I need to call your mums?"

"No! Don't call my-"

Talia's already gone out into the hall, phone pressed up against her ear.

You wonder which one of your mothers she has in her contacts.

Surely not Morsa because she's still in that stage where she's pretending to hate your girlfriend but you can't remember your Momma and Talia interacting enough to have swapped numbers and you know for certain that you weren't one to hand out people's numbers without explicit permission.

As the medics fuss and the nutritionist yells, the team also gather around to check that you're alright but you just give them a gallant shrug.

"I'm fine," You say," The epipen did its work."

"I think I'd prefer if you take the day off," The head of the medical team says," Just to be safe. You can come back tomorrow."

You know better than to argue with him so you just nod with a little sigh of annoyance.

"I can take her home," Talia says as she re-enters the room," I've got her."

"I can take a taxi home," You insist.

You and Talia drive in together so only one car is used. If you go home in that car now then she'll have to get a taxi in the middle of rush hour.

"I'll take you home," Talia says," Coach can spare me at training today. Someone's got to make sure you actually follow medical advice."

You roll your eyes. "I swear you've been hanging out with my Momma behind my back." You take the hand she offers to help you stand. "You sound just like her."

You end up back home fairly quickly, curled up on the sofa and practically forced to take a nap.

Prins joins you, curled up in the bend of your knee. Reina settles on the top of the sofa behind your head, completely stretched out and at ease with herself while Kung manages to wiggle himself between your arms to nap there.

You don't know how long you nap for but it must be a while because the sun is setting when you wake up and you can smell Talia cooking up your favourite pasta dish in the world.

You sit up.

You've definitely been sleeping for a while because Reina has migrated to her cat tree, poking her head out of the cave to watch Kung bounce around the floor in outrage at not being allowed up there with her.

Prins has taken Kung's place between your arms and his tongue rolls out of his mouth in a semblance of a dopey smile when he notices you awake, his tail beginning to wag happily.

"Hi, little man," You say, gently scratching between his ears," Did you keep me company?"

Prins' tail wags even more fiercely than before.

"Didn't want to leave your side."

You jolt, shrieking and Prins whines a little.

"Morsa! What are you doing here?!"

"Talia called your Momma," Morsa says, tucking the blanket more firmly around your body," Your allergies acted up."

"I dealt with it," You insist," You didn't have to fly out."

"Yes, we did," Morsa replies," Because if we waited for you to tell us, it would take weeks!"

You puff out your cheeks. "I wouldn't want to worry you over something so silly."

"Are you calling your allergies silly again?" Momma says. She enters with two plates worth of food and you sit up.

Prins leaps down to wander over to his own dog bed. Seeing him lying there, Kung wanders over, jumping up onto Prins' back to finish napping there as Reina ducks her head back into her cave.

"No, Momma," You mumble, accepting your food as Morsa takes a seat on the armchair and Momma to the left of you, leaving an empty space for Talia, who also brings out food for herself and Morsa before taking her own seat.

"Are you feeling better, mi vida?" She asks," You look better."

You nod. "I feel fine. My leg aches a little but that's expected."

"We'll put an icepack on it once we've finished eating. Prins was very worried about you."

Prins raises his head at the mention of his name, tail wagging.

"He's good boy."

Morsa grins from across the room. "I knew getting you a dog was a good idea."

Momma scoffs. "You told me that we should have gotten her a fish."

Morsa coughs to clear her throat and mumbles," Don't lie, Pernille."

"You wanted to get me a fish?" You laugh in disbelief," And you say Rocky is the most disappointing pet in the world."

"Are you really saying your pet rock is more exciting than a fish?"

"Am I?" You pretend to think for a moment. "Yes. Yes, I am."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

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vampiresbloodx · 3 days

Text

warnings(18+ ONLY): smut, sub!reader, Dom!Wanda, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, teasing, blow jobs (on strap), spitting, slight praise, more degradation, rough s/x, strap on use, all of it is consensual, petnames use (good girl, baby).

emo!gf!Wanda uses you however she pleases and you gladly let her.

The first time she got a taste of you, she was obsessed. No, that wasn't a joke. No one has ever seen her been like this before about anyone. You bring out a completely different side to her than not even her best friend could know about.

Wanda claimed she didn't like girls, she always told herself she wasn't a lesbian and denied any rumours surrounding that.

It wasn't that she was ashamed, she didn't give zero fucks about their opinions. Maybe a little. That's what she was known for, her no bullshit attitude, the resting bitch face, someone to not fuck with.

Then she met you.

The cute adorable nerd who's too shy for their own good.

Wanda wanted to have you all to herself, and she did.

No one was allowed to touch you, flirt with you, go as far as to ask you out.

She would kill them.

Only you'd have to stop her from even putting them in the hospital.

Even if you were left alone for a few hours, minutes, seconds, if someone tried to come at you, she would randomly pop up out of nowhere scaring the hell out of them.

But not you.

She liked that.

She really liked you.

What she liked most was making you come as many times as she wanted. How you squirm under her gaze and touch, just one look and you're begging on your knees, it drives her insane. She has to use you.

You gladly accept it. Because you know she likes you. That's all you wanted.

You've had a crush on her for as long as you can remember, and you weren't the type to crush on people easily. Sure, they'd come, but they would never last that long.

And yet with Wanda, you knew you'd do anything she asked. She was the prettiest girl you've ever met, you just wanted her attention, her everything.

Wanda knew that too.

And she used it to her advantage.

"aw, is my pretty baby already soaking wet?" She cooed, slipping her fingers inside of your tight hole, moaning when she feels your walls clench around her. "Fucking hell, I've never fucked anyone who's pussy was just dripping, begging to be touched."

You whined, bucking your hips into her but she forced them down, glaring at you.

"now, you know I'm gonna have my way with you, I'll let you come once I know you've behaved well, don't move" she demanded.

Your body shuddered, somehow you listened, you always did.

There were times where you liked being a brat, getting the worst out of her was fun, however, this time you really didn't want to mess around.

"good girl" she cooed gently, her voice sending a shiver down your spine, she didn't waste anytime, nor did she back down with starting slow and easy, practically splitting you open with her fingers hard enough that'll make you cry.

Wanda smiled wickedly, watching your every move and reaction, your mouth gaped open, your eyes never leaving hers, fuck, it drove her wild.

"aw, does someone wanna come?" She teased, slowing her movements. "Hmm, it seems this pretty pussy is ready for my cock, don't you think?" She said, loving the way your eyes widened, pupils dilated at the sound of that.

She pulled her pants down, releasing her long, lengthy strap that she kept hidden to surprise you. It was one of her favourites she brought online. A cute, pink dildo that reminded her of you.

It's just too precious.

"spit on it" she muttered, watching as you did as she ordered, once she was pleased enough, Wanda's hands came up to your head, you eagerly wrapped your mouth over her fake dick, she groaned.

"good girl, sucking my cock so well" she moaned. "God, you're my personal fucktoy, aren't you?, my flesh light, you like that, don't you?."

She heard you whimper, causing her to smirk.

"do a good enough job and maybe I'll reward you with something else."

#wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #emo!wanda #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff smut #stuff i wrote

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love-that-we-were-in · 3 days

Text

betting on all three for us two

pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: you think you like being a little more friendly and a little less competition with luke castellan this year. a sequel to this fic word count: 3.1k warnings: none

author's note: frat luke my dearly beloved loser son who studies pre-med this is for you you know who you are i love you

The fall semester comes at you faster than you’d like, this rapid change from a golden summer to the crisp air of being back on campus. You’re rooming with someone from an old anthropology elective you took, Silena finally moving into her sorority house. It should feel weirder, how everything has changed since spring break.

You take the opportunity to build new habits. Early runs, no caffeine after 2pm. Little things that make the day go a tiny bit faster, building blocks to fit around your class schedule. Silena schedules weekly lunches for the three of you and there’s this gravity to it all that you want to study.

It had been nice to be home for a few months. Your mom had missed having you there, being able to show you the new flowers she planted, how the lemon tree in the yard is twisting weirdly. Board games and family dinners and friends who never left your town. Being back home was resetting. Being back on campus was restarting.

Lee catches you as you leave the gym, offering to walk you to class if you’re heading in that direction. You smile, telling him that you have a late start and pretend he doesn’t frown when your phone buzzes. He mentions that he’s thinking of starting a study group for one of your classes and you tell him you’ll think about joining.

While he heads towards the main building, you make your way to the campus coffee shop - caught behind the early risers desperate for something to get them through their first lecture of the day.

“Can I get a flat white and an iced americano with caramel to go please?” You smile at the girl working the counter, stepping aside to glance at your watch.

You run through your schedule for today, ignoring the text that comes through. You know exactly what it says, the same thing every morning, and you don’t even bother to roll your eyes at this point.

“I can’t believe you ignored my text,” Luke says when you reach the courtyard between the library and the medical building. “Not even a flame emoji.”

You stop in front of him, drinking in the jeans and sweater combination he’s settled on today. It’s a really nice sweater, dark blue and a little baggy. You wonder how quickly he’d notice it going missing. Probably not as quickly as he’d notice the stupid hat he’s wearing go missing. His backpack leans against the bench, pristine.

“No one uses those except you,” you shake your head, handing him the iced drink. “What time does your lecture start?”

Luke tells you as if he really needs to. It’s this thing you’ve started doing since the semester began, acting like you don’t know his schedule as well as your own. As if the both of you haven’t fallen into this routine in just a few weeks. Like it’s not a highlight of your day.

Clarisse thinks it’s adorable. Chris thinks it’s hilarious. You think it’s nice to have someone to share your free time with, beyond whatever else you and Luke have. It had been a fear of yours, when Silena mentioned not sharing a dorm with you, that you would fall to the sidelines. That life would come with these new priorities for everyone and you would only be fourth or fifth on their lists, too cemented in the day-to-day that you’d be forgotten.

Morning coffee with Luke stops that fear.

“Did Silena tell you about the party on Friday?”

“I have a study group in the afternoon,” Luke says, swirling his plastic cup around so the ice clinks together. “If I do go, I’m showing up late.”

“Maybe I’ll keep my eye out for you there, Castellan.”

He laughs and it’s like summer again. There’s something insane about hearing Luke laugh like this, unbroken and loud, nothing like it had been over the phone while you were back home.

“You’ve got dinner with Silena and Clarisse tonight, right?” He asks, swinging his bag over one shoulder. You throw your empty cup into the trash can as you both start walking. “Is there any point in asking if you want to come round after?”

You knock his arm with your shoulder, laughing, and, instead of feigning hurt like usual, Luke just takes your hand in his, the skin a little colder than you expect. Gazing down at your linked hands, you bite your lip before sighing.

“If I’m home before eleven, I’ll consider it.”

Last year, when you first met him, you thought Luke only got that determined glint in his eyes when he was competing. That it was a sign of an unanticipated thrill. Since then, you’ve learnt that it’s not that at all. It’s this thing that ignites within him, determined and passionate and a little boyish.

You think it might be one of your favorite things about him.

“I will take that deal.”

You wish you could say you were a little drunk. At least that way you would have something to blame. As it stands, you’re stone cold sober, maybe a little tired from class but nothing that can really be blamed for the lack of weight your actions seem to have right now.

The only thing you can blame, and you will, is the boy next to you, completely engrossed in the movie playing. They’d been watching it when you arrived, all settled on the couches and you assume this is something they do regularly, and at any other time you might’ve called it cute.

Not tonight. Not when you walked in to the discovery that Luke wears glasses and you didn’t know about it. It was something you played off, making a joke and settling into the cushions beside him. In the time since, Chris has left for his date with Clarisse and Charlie has pulled out some work to go through in the corner of the room.

“What’s up?” Luke asks when he realizes you’ve hardly moved in ten minutes, barely even breathing. And it’s the worst possible thing he could do, glance down through the frames with that small smile you’ve gotten used to and curls loose.

“Nothing’s up,” you let your eyes trail back to the screen. “This is a very cute tradition you guys have going on.”

Charlie lets out a little laugh from across the room. You feel the way Luke exhales against the side of your face. You think you’re able to go back to pretending everything is normal, make a joke and enjoy the rest of the movie. The second you feel Luke’s fingertips on the skin of your knee, gentle and warm, you know you can’t.

“You’re swerving,” he whispers, throwing a quick glance at Charlie to see if he can hear but the other boy is engrossed in his work. “Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing,” you bite the inside of your cheek when he nods encouragingly, incredibly aware of the patterns he’s tracing on your skin. “I just think it’s interesting that you’d choose to wear a hat all the time when the glasses are right there.”

“What?”

His hand stills and you wait. You wait and you stare at the shape of his jaw and you chuckle when it finally clicks, his adam’s apple shifting as he swallows the conclusion down. “Are you saying you like my glasses?”

You don’t like how uneven this all feels. Whenever you’ve been with Luke so far, there’s been this mutual balance that you’ve grown used to. Even before now, back when you were locked in silly competitions, you did it on even footing, the expectation that everything meant nothing and you wouldn’t be affected.

This, the way Luke grins around the realization, hand moving to rest on your thigh, is different. It’s heavier. It’s a loss after a winning streak and you’re kind of obsessed with the way it could drag you down.

“I just think that hat is stupid.”

“Yeah, okay,” Luke nods and you know, even if he doesn’t do it outright, he’s laughing. He’s categorizing the information you’ve just given him, placing it where it belongs in his mind, and it’s going to bite you in the ass. “Tell me more.”

“Luke,” you mutter, gritting your teeth. His fingertips brush against the hem of your shorts and, when you glare at him for it, he just shrugs. You throw a glance over in Charlie’s direction. Still nothing. “Are you insane?”

He tilts his head like he’s considering the question carefully. If Charlie were to look over, you know he’d assume you were locked in a debate about something silly - a staple of you and Luke - and it wouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t know for a second that you were holding onto Luke’s wrist, his hand itching to move just a little to the left.

You sigh and the boy beside you raises an eyebrow. You both know that you’ve lost this round.

When you press your lips to his bicep as the film credits roll, warm even through the fabric of his shirt, you mumble, “I really like your glasses.”

You aren’t used to watching things from a crowd. You’re used to focusing on yourself, on your team - not watching from a distance, surrounded by people who are there purely for enjoyment. There’s no winning from the stands.

Luke doesn’t know you’re here. You’d sent him a text that morning wishing him luck, arranging to meet him when his debate was over. You hadn’t bothered to message him when your afternoon class got canceled, choosing instead to race across campus and find a seat in the dim auditorium they’re using.

There isn’t the crackle of energy you get from swimming, or from watching Luke during track sessions. It’s less intense, for sure, a balance between the fire you know exists within him when he’s competing and the confidence he has in his own intelligence. You’ve argued with Luke, stupid things that neither of you care to take too seriously, and this is just the next stage of that.

He’s got his glasses on, you note, when the debate gets underway. He’s wearing his lucky green polo, even if he’d never personally call it that, and he’s switched his smartwatch out for an analogue one. The cheap biro you’re used to seeing him use has been replaced by a fancy silver pen that he still taps against his thigh while thinking. He’s sitting straighter than usual, shoulders back.

It’s almost like meeting him for the first time, focused and confident and sharp at the edges.

You’re kind of obsessed with it.

An hour and a winning handshake later, you make your way through the small crowd leaving to find Luke in conversation with one of his teammates. She smiles as you wrap an arm around his waist from behind, the slight tension still lingering in his bones melting away when he realizes it’s you.

“What are you doing here?” He says, turning enough that he’s actually facing you now. The girl waves you both goodbye. “I thought you had class.”

“Professor Chase had to cancel. His daughter got sent home from school with a fever.”

Luke nods, pressing his lips to the top of your head quickly. “You didn’t have to come to my debate.”

In the few months you’ve known Luke, you’ve learnt more about him than you expected to. You know from summer that Connecticut means looking after his sick mother, that he’s hoping to introduce some new charity events to ksig, that he used to go to a summer camp growing up. You know that his dad never showed up for anything and that he sits in the stands of all of your swim meets regardless of whether it cuts into his study time or not.

More than all of that, you know that the way he’s gazing at you now, a cross between awe and something deeper, is going to drive you crazy one day. You hope he can read the same expression on your face.

“Thank you for coming,” he says when everyone is finally dismissed, an arm thrown across your shoulders as you make your way out of the building. You loop a finger around one of his, just because you want to. “It means a lot.”

“I told you I would,” and you had, months ago, staring at Luke’s bedroom ceiling, back when you were still caught in the casualness of it all. When Luke was just someone you pretended you weren’t trying to bump into at parties. You’d told him that you would show up for him if you ever got the chance. He’d rolled his eyes, throwing a blanket over you both and told you to go to sleep. He’d drifted off with his nose pressed against your neck. “I keep my word, Castellan.”

“I know.”

In the evening light of campus, you think it might mean something more. Buried under the timing and the bitter wind until it’s a promise only you and Luke could translate. Asking him about where he wants to go for dinner, you like that no one else could understand the depth of it.

+1.

Silena catches your attention as you enter the kitchen, grinning wildly and explaining her concept for tonight. Drew gave her permission to throw this week’s party, something themed and fun and it’s something she’s so proud of that you can’t help but grin back at her energy.

“Even Charlie came,” she tells you excitedly, handing you a drink. “I feel like tonight is going to be it.”

In all the years you’ve known her, she’s been counting down to it. You don’t exactly understand the fundamentals of what it is, if it’s a real thing or something she can just sense intrinsically. There have been moments where she’s thought of it before, mentioned it offhandedly before shaking her head - as if knowing she was wrong.

“What even is it?” You ask and, for the first time, she breathes deeply instead of shrugging it off.

“The beginning of the end,” she says and that doesn’t exactly explain anything. “Everything is about to change.”

You still don’t really get it, but she’s as confident in this as she is about her clothes, so you nod like you understand. She sends you away not long after that, turning her attention to the new group that’s just walked through the doorway, mentioning that you need to be in the basement in about an hour and you just accept your fate, moving into the next room and falling into conversation with Rachel.

Luke slips into the basement just as Silena starts yelling for everyone to do so, catching your eye across the room and waving. When you’re all instructed to sit down in a circle, you wonder exactly what Silena has planned for tonight. When she places a near empty bottle down in the center of you all, you laugh.

“Are we actually playing spin the bottle?” Chris asks, prompting a murmured chorus of agreement from everyone else in the room. Silena frowns at him.

“Wanna bet he ends up getting the most into it?” Luke whispers in your ear and you raise an eyebrow at him. “Loser has to buy the coffee tomorrow morning.”

“You’re on,” you bump your fist to his to seal the deal. “I think he’s gonna get bored by round 3.”

“Only boring people get bored of this game. It’s about drive.”

“It’s about power?” Luke lets out a laugh and Silena turns her glare to you. “Sorry.”

She starts to explain the rules of the game, as if you’re all twelve again, and you bite your lip harder with every comment Luke makes under his breath. It’s a little mean, a little stupid, and you wish you were fifteen again, playing a proper game of spin the bottle for the first time.

Nothing much happens for the first few rounds, Chris starting to grumble the longer the game goes on. Luke clicks his tongue when you point it out, cursing his best friend like this was the worst thing that could’ve happened to him.

Lee spins and it’s like cosmic interference when the bottle stops between you and Luke, the two of you glancing at each other and then back towards Lee.

“Should I spin it again?” Lee asks when no one says anything. Silena shakes her head and says, “You can choose or we can vote if that makes you more comfortable.”

“Please let us vote,” Chris shouts, animated and you narrow your eyes at him, ignoring the smug smile Luke gives you. “I’ll never ask you for anything ever again.”

Lee glances between you both again, at where your knee rests against Luke’s thigh and the beer you’ve been sharing for the past twenty minutes sits between you. “It might be better to vote.”

“Sure,” Silena smiles before silencing you all. “Everyone that wants Lee to kiss Luke, raise your hands.”

You raise your hand and Luke mumbles beside you, flicking your leg and you poke him in return. Anything to avoid kissing Lee Fletcher after two years of avoiding it.

“That is an overwhelming majority,” Silena says and you know, just by the way her eyes slide over to you, that she didn’t even bother to actually count. “Lee, you may now kiss Luke.”

There’s this moment where you think Lee is going to just leave but instead he stares at the boy next to you, the relaxed set to his jaw, the annoying baseball cap on his head, how he’s so unbothered by it all. You watch as something clicks in his mind, you really want to know what it is.

Whatever it was, it makes him grab the bottle again, ignoring Silena’s protests. It lands on the girl from Luke’s debate team and she straightens her back ever so slightly.

“Silena,” Lee says as he leans towards the girl. “I’m not going to kiss Luke or his girlfriend.”

“Damn straight,” Luke mumbles, grabbing your hand from your lap and holding it in his instead. It’s stupid and it really doesn’t matter to either of you, you know that, but there’s this way he says it - almost like it’s the worst thing he could’ve imagined - and it settles in your gut with the beer you’ve been drinking. “Me or my girlfriend.”

“I’d really like to meet her,” you say, laughing when he huffs and pulls his hat down on your head. When you push the visor up to see him properly, all rosy cheeks and compacted curls, you think you might have found it. Whatever it is.

Based on the way Luke’s nose scrunches and his eyes crinkle, you think he understands that too.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #luke castellan x you

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mediumgayitalian · 3 days

Text

———

She brushes another kiss to his hidden face and settles against the car door, holding him. She thinks for a moment and decides on something old, a tune she heard on the radio once upon a time and never heard again; she’s warped it, now, no doubt about it, humming it from memory so long it’s changed to whatever she has made it. But Will recognises it from years of lullabies, picking up on the swooping baritones and mumbling the words into her shoulder.

“You know, that Han Solo shrine up in your room makes a lot more sense, now that I think about it.”

The melody dies in his throat.

“Mama.”

“I’m just saying.” She bites back a smirk, swatting away his smacking hands. “There was a point in time I thought it was admiration, you know, but you have a lot of posters of that open vest —”

“Mama!”

She acquiesces, this time, never having seen his poor face so scarlet, trying and failing to keep her laughter to herself. The tear tracks have long since dried and his breathing is steady, now, gangly limbs tucked into her ribs and hanging off the bend of her thigh. Flopped all over her like he used to to when he was young and she was still touring, when the world was too loud and too bright and too mean and she hid him from the sun. Her hands in his hair are to touch instead of soothe.

“Who’s the boy?”

“No.”

“C’mon, babydoll.” She pokes at his ribs, grinning widely when he rolls his eyes to hide his smile. “Tell me.”

“It’s nobody, Ma, gods.”

“Yeah, right. Not like you were comparing having a crush to killing someone in cold blood twenty minutes ago. Clearly it’s somebody.”

He, very pointedly, doesn’t answer.

Unfortunately, he forgets that he gets his stubborn from her.

“Hm. Can’t be anyone I haven’t heard of in a few weeks, or else it wouldn’t be bothering you. What names have you mentioned?”

He looks at her in horror. “You wouldn’t.”

Absolutely, she would. Her smile widens.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess it ain’t Chiron, ‘cause then I’d have questions —”

“Oh my gods! Stop!”

“— an’ I doubt it’s that security fellow, with the eyes, although if it is no judgement —”

“I’m throwing myself out of this car! Right now! I’m gonna lay on the road ‘til someone hits me!”

“— Lord, you don’t mention many names. You’re a recluse, baby. You gotta make more than two friends.”

She stills. Will, perhaps guessing where she is going, makes a noise of deep, personal agony.

“Oh my stars, is it Cecil?”

“Ew, Ma!”

He strains against her hold but she tightens, hooking her elbow around his shoulders and flexing her other hand, pretending to examine her nails.

“It is, isn’t it? I mean, he is a very handsome young man. And he has a good heart, too, despite the — how to put it — distaste for the law —”

“I just threw up in my mouth! Right now! Stop it!”

“I should probably stop letting him stay in your room when he stays over, huh, that one’s on me —”

He wrenches himself away from her, finally, clambering over the seats and gagging like the mere idea makes him nauseous.

“Ew! Ew! I do not have a thing for Cecil, oh my gods, I might as well marry my cousin! Augh! I’m gonna throw up for real! Why would you even say that, oh my —”

“Alright, alright!” she laughs, kicking his rapidly repeating shoulder. “Holy Jesus, you are dramatic. I should call up camp and tell him you’re out here retchin’ at the mere thought.”

“Good,” Will says darkly, voice muffled from how deeply his head is buried in his hands, “make sure to also tell him he is a weasel.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And that I am going to deface his vintage Hot Wheels collection.”

“Y’all have a strange friendship.”

“He’s not my friend, I am stuck with him via circumstance and because he refuses to leave me alone.”

She holds up her hands in surrender, refraining from pointing out the friendship bracelet he is currently wearing with a CM on it and that has not left his wrist in four years.

“Alright, alright. Not Cecil.”

He scoffs in agreement, ignoring her rolled eyes.

She wracks her brain for other boys he’s brought up in their phone calls, aside from people in passing. Mostly he mentions patients, really, answering her endless inquiries — it will never stop astounding her that he baby can practically sew heads back on bodies; she tells people he’s in med school and preens at their wide, impressed eyes — but there are other people he mentions, in between that and the pranks he’s frequently pulling with his friends.

“There was that boy you were so excited to keep around. Nick?”

“His name is Nico,” he corrects, and then immediately goes scarlet. “I — I mean, I have a friend, named Nico, not that —”

Her grin gets sharp as nails.

“He is — unwell! He’s travelled a lot, he needs monitoring so I am — monitoring him, you know, out of concern for his safety —”

“Nico and Wi-ill, sitting in a tree —”

“Oh my gods are you five —”

“You are steaming! I can actually feel the heat pouring off of you right now! You love him, you want to kiss him, you —”

“I am never telling you anything again in my entire life!” he hollers. “Never! Next time I think I should tell you something I’m just gonna — swallow glass!”

She snickers. “Drama queen.”

He sticks out his tongue as she situates herself back in her own seat, turning the keys in the engine. His puts his dirty converse on the dash despite her grouching, reaching over to fight her for control of the radio, flapping his hand excitedly when she lets him win and something bright and overdone starts playing. His bandage stays where it is, tied loosely around his wrist.

“I’m glad you told me, you know.”

He smiles, small and genuine, leaning into the palm she cups around his cheek. The dimple in the centre of his right cheek is back, the scrunch of his freckled nose. She presses a lingering kiss smack dab in the centre of his forehead and he leans into it, trusting.

“I know.”

#okay THATS it #do i like this as much as the first part? no it’s less impactful. but it is fun so idc #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #will solace #naomi solace #will solace & naomi solace #solangelo #fluff #my writing #fic #longpost

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ktgoodmorning · 3 days

Text

Can't do this anymore

Mapi Leon x reader

You and Mapi are best friends and roommates but there always seems to be something else between you

(I adore Mapi and Ingrid but we’re gonna pretend she doesn’t exist for this)

Masterlist

“Wow, someone’s looking good. Hot date or what?” You rolled at Mapi as you entered your living area. Your roommate layed stretched out on the couch, where she often was, with a book in hand, peering over the top of it with a teasing smile on her face.

“Yeah, Patri’s trying to set me up with some girl she knows. I’m hoping that by agreeing to this one she’ll quit trying to do this all the time.” You weren’t exactly excited for this date, something made clear by your deadpan voice as you talked about it. You were the token single friend in your friend group and you were tired of all of them bugging you about it, constantly trying to set you up. You only agreed to this one in hopes of shutting them up, something that always proved to be difficult.

“I don’t get why you’re so afraid of talking to girls. You never know, maybe you could bring this one home with you and have some fun?” she wiggled her eyebrows at you. “I can disappear for the night if you want?” Her sing-songy voice was a hallmark of her usual teasing towards you, both of you used to the fact that she was the one most likely to bring random girls home while you would panic the second a girl made eye contact.

Despite your differences, the two of you made the most perfect friends. You had lived together for a few years now, saving on rent while also enjoying each other’s company. You were more of a homebody, often appreciating her help in crosswords or sharing books with her while she was the one who got you out of the house, not allowing you to be too much of a homebody. You were the perfect duo and everybody knew it, being more comfortable with each other than with anyone else.

“Don’t count on it, Maria. I think it’s safe to say you don’t need to plan on disappearing. I’m just going to go have dinner with her and maybe grab some drinks if it goes well. That’s it.” You gave her a knowing look as you put your shoes on and got ready to leave.

“Keep an open mind, you never know, cari. I’m going out with the girls later but you can always give me a call if you need a ride or anything. I’m not drinking tonight so I’ll leave my phone on for you!” And with that, you left the house, off to meet your date.

Your date was fine. The girl was fine, the food was fine, the conversation was fine, it was all just fine. It wasn’t anything special. You didn’t know her at all, obviously, so you felt like the conversation was forced and unnatural. Something about it just left you feeling unsatisfied, seemingly having nothing in common with this girl and therefore nothing to talk about. You couldn’t quite decide what made Patri think it could work out between you but you were over it, your social battery depleted, opting to end the date early so you could go back to the comfort of your own home. Every one of these dates that your friends set you up on left you drained and even more anxious about the idea of ever finding a significant other.

When you trudged through your apartment door after not being gone for all that long, you weren’t surprised to find Mapi exactly where you left her on the couch. All she could see was the look of annoyance on your face as you slipped off your shoes and made your way to join her, dramatically flopping yourself onto the couch next to her. “I’m guessing the fact that you’re already home will tell me everything I need to know about how your date went?” Her eyebrows rose as she set her book down on her chest to look at you.

You shot her a glare in response, answering her question for her. The defender raised her hands up as if to surrender, “hey, don’t be getting mad at me, I’m on your side here.”

“Ugghhh, I know. I’m sorry.” you sat up to finally look at her. “I’m just tired of this shit.”

“Why don’t you come out with us tonight?”

“I don’t know, I’m tired and I-”

“Cari, listen to me. I think it could be good for you. You can stick with us the whole time, we won’t make you talk to any girls or tease you about it at all.” You scoffed at her words, knowing how unlikely it would be for that to happen.

“You’re gonna stick with me? Zorri, I guarantee you’ll have your tongue down some girl’s throat in the first ten minutes we’re there.” Her face feigned shock, seemingly offended at your words as you giggled, knowing you were right.

“Okay well maybe I won’t stick with you but Patri and Pina will!”

“I don’t know, Maps. You just wanna get laid, tonight. I can tell it’s been awhile cause of the stick you’ve had up your ass lately so I think I’ll sit this one out.” You burst out laughing, once again knowing you were right while she started smacking your shoulder. The two of you both broke into a mixture of giggling and hitting each other before trying your best to calm down.

This was the nature of your relationship with your Mapi. The two of you were constantly teasing and bullying each other, both of you knowing the love you held for each other. You saw right through what she wanted from her night out, and decided that you just didn’t have the energy to join her, or more accurately, join your other friends, in their night.

“Mapi, while I appreciate the invite, I’m gonna stay here. But you have fun! I just need a night in.” You stood up from the couch to retreat to your room, stopping briefly to turn back to your friend right as you reached your bedroom door. “And Maria- don’t sleep with that bartender tonight. I know I said to get laid but I don’t mean her. As your friend I’m telling you, something is off about her, so please bring home any other person instead.”

The defender rolled her eyes at you but you knew she’d take your advice seriously. Every time you went out, the same bartender would spend the entire night flirting with Mapi. She hadn’t done anything wrong, per say, but something about her just rubbed you the wrong way and all you knew was that you didn’t want Mapi bringing her back to your apartment. Maybe it was just the way she looked at her or how drop dead gorgeous she was behind the bar, but it made you slightly possessive over your best friend.

With that, you retreated into your room for the night, allowing Mapi to go on with whatever she had planned and for you to get occupied by your thoughts while you attempted to watch a movie. However, all you could think about was how right Mapi had been when she teased you for being so afraid of talking to girls. You had thought about it some before but could never figure out why you were that way. The only girls you were ever all that comfortable around were your teammates and even so, it wasn’t unusual for you to still tense up around them at times. Mapi seemed to be the only one who you truly could let down your walls around no matter what and something about that didn’t sit quite right with you.

You couldn’t figure it out. She was your best friend and she had been for years, why would you suddenly be questioning how you felt about her? It’s not like anything had changed? So why should your feelings be?

The more you thought about it, the more it absolutely tore you to pieces, eventually resorting back out to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea in hopes of being able to get to sleep eventually. You didn’t realize how much time had passed until Mapi was quietly opening the front door, sneaking into the kitchen under the assumption you would already be asleep.

You didn’t hear her enter, scaring you half to death when she suddenly started speaking to you, “You’re still awake? You okay? Something on your mind?” when her voice broke through your thoughts, you jumped, grabbing your chest as you caught your breath.

“Jesus, Mapi! You scared the shit out of me, what's wrong with you?!”

“Ay, calm down, I didn’t mean to,” she held her hands up in surrender. “Are you okay?”

You sighed, unable to actually be mad at her. “Yeah, I just couldn’t sleep.” It wasn’t an entire lie, but there was no way you could tell her what you were actually thinking, hoping to change the subject as quickly as possible. “I see you’re home alone. Couldn’t find any girls willing to put up with your yapping, huh?”

“Oh don’t worry, my mouth would have been far too busy to be yapping.” You almost spit out your tea, shocked by her response while she smirked at you, giving you a small shrug once you calmed down. Mapi’s plans for her mouth were certainly not something you needed to be thinking about at the moment. “I just didn’t really feel it tonight, I don’t know.”

She joined you at the table, stealing a sip from your tea as she did so. “You should’ve seen Patri and Pina tonight, cari. Those two were crazy…” She continued on and on, filling you in on everyone’s antics from the night, while you just listened. It was easy for you to be completely captivated by her as she spoke. You were used to her talking nonsense and you just listening, always getting lost in how excited she got and how her smile grew the longer she spoke.

Eventually Mapi noticed the way you struggled to keep your eyes open, completely exhausted by the previous day, and helped you up. “Time for bed, you’re hardly awake. Also, don’tbemadatmebut I told Patri about how your date went so don’t be surprised if you hear from her tomorrow. Goodnight!” She rushed out her words, barely understandable, conveniently right before you went to bed and were too tired to actually be mad at her like you would’ve otherwise. Hardly even processing what she said, you decided you could handle Patri in the morning and went straight to bed, finally too worn out to be kept up by your thoughts any longer.

You slept in late, later than you normally would, hearing Mapi already up and doing things on the other side of your wall. When you eventually emerged from your room, you were shocked at the state of your best friend. “MAPI! What the fuck!” There she was, casually doing her laundry, in nothing but a sports bra and her underwear.

“Que?” she genuinely looked confused by your reaction, somehow unsure as to what your problem was.

“Since when does laundry day mean walking around in your underwear?!”

“Well otherwise you can’t clean all your clothes. Cause the one’s you’re wearing are still not clean so you still have more laundry to do. So I figured why not just wash everything?” She acted as if it were the most obvious thing in the world while you kept your eyes glued to the floor, worried that you’d get caught looking somewhere you shouldn’t. You could only hope that she wouldn’t notice the slight blush that was rising to your cheeks.

“Mapi, somehow you still find ways to surprise me even after three years of living with you.” You shook your head at her, trying to hide how flustered you were while you sat down on the couch to check your phone.

Somehow, you’d already missed a variety of messages from Patri regarding your failed date that she had set you up on. Normally you’d ignore her or tell her off for bugging you about always being single, but for some reason you decided to entertain her today. Maybe if you agreed to more of her setups and put in more of an effort, it could get you out of whatever weird headspace you found yourself in the night before. Whatever it was you were feeling about Mapi, you needed to put an end to it and hopefully some more successful dates could be the solution you needed. So in a lapse of judgment, you agreed to meet up with another one of Patri’s friends that night. Her source of single, lesbian, friends seemed to be endless so she was overjoyed when you finally stopped putting up a fight.

There you were once again, getting ready to go on yet another date that you weren’t too excited about. You were trying your best to have a good attitude but it was harder than you expected.

“You’re all dressed up,” Mapi raised her eyebrows at you, mimicking the exact conversation you had had 24 hours earlier.

You let out a sigh, already regretting your decision to do this. “Yeah, I let Patri set me up with someone else, so I have another date. We’re just getting dinner so I shouldn’t be out too late, especially with training tomorrow morning.”

“Wow, you’re really putting yourself out there,” she paused for a moment, almost looking… disappointed? But the defender quickly changed her tune, doing a complete 180, “You have fun, chica! Keep an open mind and my phone’s on if you need anything! You can always give me a call!”

“Gracias, Mapi! I’ll see you later? Adios!”

You set off towards the restaurant you agreed on, deciding on walking as it was only about a twenty minute walk and the weather was nice. If nothing else, the walk could help clear your mind before you had to meet this girl for real.

You were about five minutes early so you were the first one there, leaving you to get a table and wait for your date to arrive.

The girl was a total stranger to you, not even having her number, only knowing that somehow Patri knew her and set the whole thing up. So you sat with your glass of wine, and waited.

After a while you checked your watch. It was now ten minutes after your agreed upon time. But that was understandable, right? Ten minutes was no big deal, she was probably just running late. You double checked your texts with Patri to make sure you had the right time and place and went back to waiting.

There you sat, getting more and more anxious for every minute that passed. This is why you hated things like this; dates always just filled you with anxiety. You’d already received plenty of looks of pity from the wait staff, and weird glances from the people dining around you. After it reached thirty minutes past your meeting time, you gave Patri a call which she of course, didn’t answer.

When it hit 45 minutes, you decided you had had enough. Tears had started pooling in your eyes from a mix of anger, embarrassment, frustration, and anxiety. You shakily got up from your table, apologizing to your waiter and paying for your wine as you did so. As soon as you reached the front door, you saw that it had begun to rain, instantly deflating your mood even further. You knew walking home would be the thing to fully send you over the edge so you decided to call your Mapi to pick you up.

“Chica, estás bien?”

“Mapi, can you please come get me?” Mapi could hear the exhaustion in your voice, obviously trying to hold back tears.

“Si. Si, I’ll be right there, I’m leaving right now.” You could tell from her voice that she was rushing, coming to your rescue as fast as she could. She stayed on the phone as she drove, speaking nonsense in an attempt to distract you until she arrived about five minutes later.

When you got in the car, she looked at you hesitantly, clearly wanting to ask what happened.

“Maps, she stood me up.”

“Oh, cari.” Her hold body deflated at your words, “I’m sorry. I swear, when I see Patri tomorrow I’m gonna kill her. Why would she try to set you up with some shit girl she knows? I can’t stand that! You deserve better than that, you know that, right? You deserve someone who will treat you like a fucking queen, and I-”

You interrupted her by setting your hand on her thigh as she drove. “Mapi, it’s fine. I appreciate the sentiment but it’s fine, it’s not Patri’s fault.” The two of you settled into a comfortable silence- both of you lost in thought, unknowingly for the same reason.

“Thank you for picking me up,” your voice was hardly audible.

“Of course. I told you, I’ll always be here for you if you need anything. It’s no bother, really.”

“You’re telling me you really have nowhere better to be than here picking me up from a stupid restaurant in the rain?”

“Where else would I be right now other than the couch? Sure you might have to answer to Bagheera, but I think she’ll understand.”

You returned her soft smile, although your thoughts were more conflicted than ever before. “I just can’t help but think this is more effort that most people would put into a friend.” Both of you were silent as she parked the car, not quite sure what you were getting at. You didn’t quite know either, if you were being honest. Your emotions had taken over all sense of logic and all you could think about was the girl sitting next to you.

“Let’s go inside, order some takeout, and talk, si?” You nodded and followed her inside, terrified of the direction your conversation would be going in.

Once you got inside and changed from your nice clothes, you both settled on the couch next to each other. “Hmm, nice sweatshirt you’ve got there.” Mapi raised an eyebrow at you as you sat down, looking down at your clothes in confusion. You hadn’t even realized that in your mess of an emotional state, you had put on a hoodie that was definitely hers, instantly comforted by the familiar smell.

“Ugh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize I had it. I’ll wash it and get it back to you tomorrow.”

“Oh no, mi amiga, keep it. I like seeing you in it.” suddenly her voice had gotten much quieter than usual.

“Mapi, don’t be ridiculous, this is one of your favorites.”

“No, I mean it. You’re keeping it.”

You felt tears brimming your eyes once again and tried to blink them away, partially from your emotions from the night catching up to you, and partially filled with appreciation for the girl in front of you.

“Amiga, are you crying?”

“NO. No, I’m fine. I’m just tired.”

“Vale, vale, bien. You’re not crying, I’m just gonna give you a hug, because I want to then, not because you’re crying, because you definitely aren’t crying, I’m just giving you a hug for no reason.” You rolled your eyes at the way she smiled at you, seeing right through you like she always did before pulling you into a hug. Mapi always seemed to know you better than you liked to admit, allowing you to instantly relax in her arms. “You’re adorable.” she mumbled into your shoulder, quietly enough that it took you a second to process her words that she likely didn’t intend for you to hear.

“What’d you just say, Mapi?”

“Hmm?” she pulled away to look at you. “Oh. Nothing.” Her head shook quickly, as if she had no idea what you were talking about, something that made you smile at her once again.

“Maps, I know I probably shouldn’t tell you this but I don’t know who else to tell other than you and I just need to get it off my chest.” She looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue. “I’m always so scared of girls and dating and all of that.” You looked up at her, “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, you know that already.” You were met with an encouraging smile as you thought about what you wanted to say next. “But I never could figure out why I was so scared. I just could never get comfortable with anyone and I think I’ve always been terrified of getting hurt if I let my walls down. But lately I feel like I’ve realized that you’re the only person that I ever feel completely comfortable with. And you’re the only person that I’m not worried about hurting me. And I don’t know what to make of that, and it scares me, and you’re literally my favorite person in the world, and I just-” You took a deep breath in an attempt to prevent yourself from getting even more worked up. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”

Mapi was silent in thought for a minute but reached out to grab your hand, her way of letting you know that she wasn’t upset but just needed a second to think before responding. When she finally did, her voice was shaky and much less animated than you typically heard it. “You know how I am with dating. You know I’d rather just hook up with people and play around.” This was not at all what you expected her to say, raising your anxiety even further. “I never saw myself being able to settle down. It was always too scary. I’d rather put no feelings into it and just have fun than risk someone else fucking me up. But something about you, changes that for me. There’s a reason I haven’t been hooking up with anyone lately. You were my best friend before you were anything else, amor, and I don’t want to put that at risk.” Her eyes glanced up at you hesitantly, barely whispering out her last words, “But you make the idea of settling down seem easy.”

If you thought you were confused before, it couldn’t even compare to how you felt now. Your mind was running on overdrive, trying its best to make sense of her confession. You’d never in life seen Mapi look so scared and vulnerable, something that was saying a lot as you had seen her at some major low points. She was hardly making eye contact with you, and was more fidgety than usual- picking at her nails and tapping her foot.

The defender took a huge deep breath, before giving your hands a squeeze. She could easily see the way your thoughts were spiraling and knew she would have to be the one to say what you were both thinking.

“Why don’t we stop pretending we still think of each other as friends? Cause I don’t know if I can do that anymore.”

You looked up at her surprised, just now realizing that she was serious in sharing the feelings you had. “Mapi are you for real? And don’t fuck with me right now, cause I swear-”

She giggled slightly at your reaction, stopping you in your tracks, “En serio, amor. Prometo.” You could tell that she was. Her face was as serious as she ever was.

“Then let’s not be just friends anymore.”

You hardly realized the way the two of you had drifted closer throughout your conversation, both of you speaking much quieter, only a few inches apart. “I want to show you what you deserve, treat you like the queen you are, and show you how much I love everything about you.” Both of you were looking all over the other’s face, your eyes bouncing from her lips, back up to her eyes, and taking in everything in between. If you could memorize every freckle in that moment, you would’ve.

“Then do it, Maps.”

There was maybe only an inch separating you, but for some reason she was still scared of messing it up. "Am I reading this wrong? If I am.. push me away." Your noses brushed together as you could feel her breath on yours. When you didn’t hesitate at her words, she took that as the approval she needed, instantly pressing her lips against yours. The chemistry between you was more than either of you had felt with anyone else, finally doing exactly what you didn’t realize you had been waiting for along.

Hope you enjoyed! Requests are open and appreciated!

Masterlist

#barcelona femeni #woso imagines #barca femeni #fcb femini #woso x reader #mapi leon imagine #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #mapi león #maria león #maria leon #maria leon x reader #wosoreading24/7 #wosoreadingmapi #woso #woso imagine #woso one shot #espwnt

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redeyegrl · 2 days

Text

☆ crybaby ; jude bellingham

you were laid on the couch, your eyes fluttering due to the intense amounts of tiredness you were feeling whilst watching your favorite show on tv. you were wrapped around in your favorite blanket, head smushed onto the pillow that was laid underneath.

lately, these past few days haven't been too good for you. not only were you, yet again, bombarded with so much work, you were dealing with a lot emotionally. especially towards your best friend who currently is now in madrid playing for one of the biggest clubs ever.

you and jude have known each other for quite sometime but only remained as close friends. your friendship started with a follow on instagram which led to him flying you out to meet him for the first time. truly, you thought that you both might hit it off and actually become a couple but that conversation still hasn’t surfaced.

you didn’t want to be the first to tell him you liked him, but you also didn’t know if he felt the same way. even when he was flying you out, taking you to his favorite spots in madrid, holding your hands when you were both together in front of his teammates, to him giving you sneaky kisses late at night when you would stay over at his place. all of that and no sign of him wanting anything more than just being friends. call it a situationship if you will.

earlier today, you came across dating rumors regarding jude on social media and it made you almost completely unproductive. you couldn’t stop thinking about jude potentially being someone else’s boyfriend. after all, you knew you couldn’t control who someone decides to be with, but it always stung when you would hear his name attached to someone who wasn’t you.

your eyes slowly start to shut until you heard the annoying sound of your ringtone. "it's 2am, who the hell is calling me" you say incoherently. you rub your eyes to try and read the caller i.d, only to figure out it was jude. "what does he want" you say sitting up, slightly annoyed.

"hello" you respond in the most monotone voice possible. "well morning to you as well" jude replies, seemingly in a great mood. "it's 2am and i was trying to go to bed, if you don't have anything important to say, i would like to go back to sleep" you say in a hurry, rubbing your tired stressed eyes. "and what's up with you" jude laughs on the opposite end. "nothing jude im just tired. you know it's late over here" you slightly whine, knowing jude has the time saved of where you were living on his clock app.

"just wanted to let you know i'm up and about to head off to training" he tells you. well, he never did that before. nonetheless, you did find the reminder cute. "well, have fun then." you say before you were about to hang up.

"wait y/n, i have something to ask you" "he rushes to tell you. you on the other hand, truthfully didn't want to talk to anyone since you weren't in the mood. you already cried tons today, the last thing you needed was to talk to the one who made you so emotional.

"yeah go on" you allowed. "i beg you to tell me how you're feeling. are you alright?" he questions in soft tone. you could already feel the tears briming in your eyes, the heat of your cheeks starting to burn. "do you want the truth?" you whisper. "why would you lie to me?" he questions yet again.

"i'm not doing that great" you respond. you wanted to tell him you were okay so you could head off to bed, but something in you wanted to let him know you weren't. you started sniffling since crying always activates your sinuses. "y/n why are you crying? tell me what's wrong" he demanded delicately.

"i was online today" you say trying to collect yourself. "read some stuff that made me kinda sad" you say quietly, wiping away the lukewarm tears running down your cheeks using your hoodie wrist cuffs. "is that all? what do you mean" he questions, confused as to what you meant. "the dating rumors about you and --" you finally confessed.

all you could hear was jude's small laughs which made you want to cry even more. you had no clue what those laughs meant and you hated that him laughing was the way he would respond. "why are you laughing" you chuckle trying to hide your cries.

"y/n, i wouldn't be too worried about it" he confirms which made you feel a small bit alright. "if i was seeing anyone i would tell you, would i not?" he reminds you, which he was right about. "but what if you're hiding it from me" you pout, he giggled some more. "y/n, im not interested in anyone" he makes aware.

that statement made your heart sink. tears started to form all over again followed by your jaw slowly starting to quiver. "you mean that?" you ask him, hoping he would change his response. "i mean, those girls the media puts me with i'm not interested" he responds. "no, i mean, are you really not interested in anyone" you ask again, playing with the strings on your hoodie, starting to regret even picking up the phone.

"well there is this one girl who's always on my mind, and i sometimes still get nervous around her. she's so perfect in my eyes. she can get grumpy and she's always busy which annoys me. i would fly her over when i'd miss her, take her out to all of my favorite spots when she lands, we'd have secret rendezvous late at night, sleepovers at my house as well.. she's actually my best friend." he rambles as you can hear him walk his way to the car.

you started smiling just a little bit, your hand palming your entire face due to how giddy you were starting to feel. it was obvious he was talking about you. "well, i wonder who this great girl is" you playfully ask. jude laughs with you as well. "she's pretty. her name starts with a (-) and ends with (-)" he jokes, answering with the letters of your name.

"i really miss her too. thinking of bringing her over to me for two weeks. gonna maybe try and make her my girlfriend i don't know i don't know" he continues on with his playful antics. "wow, i think she would love that jude. shes so lucky" you play along, you both now laughing on the phone.

"so i'll see you next week?" he asks. you hum in response, now grateful you picked up the phone. "go to sleep y/n, i don't want to keep you up". you were very tired so all you could do was hum back. "one more thing before i let you go to sleep" he tells you, you put the phone on speaker and lay back down on the couch. "hmm" you respond.

"you're such a cry baby about me and i like that" he laughs.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #judestories!

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chrissv4mp · 1 day

Text

say you were tryna' make me laugh .❤️‍🩹

summary: matt lets it slip that he loves you and you try to tell him that he can't, that he needs to take it back.

pairing: fem!reader × bsf!matt sturniolo

warnings: angst, maybe some vulgar language, high-school au, etc.

a/n: PLEASEE i need billies new album now💔🙏 also this might be a potential series....👀👀

matt was your best friend, followed you every where you went and did everything you asked of him. you guys may have gotten into fights sometimes, but only small arguments.

he was perfect, and your other friends had always encouraged you to ask him out. but you never did, because you knew that he never really talked about that sort of stuff because of his social media presence.

and maybe it was also because you were a little scared to, because you saw yourself as unlovable and you couldn't bear to see the look of disgust on your bestfriends face if he rejected you.

you wouldn't be able to be around him anymore if he rejected you, it would be so awkward and wouldn't be at all how it used to be. your connection just wouldn't have that same spark.

"hey, dummy," matts voice erupted from behind you, and you turned to look over at him.

he took a seat next to yours at the small table in the corner of the cafeteria, smiling over at you as he set his tray down.

"hi, idiot," you laughed, cringing as you took a look at the cafeteria food, "seriously, you're gonna get food poisoning from that one day."

matt just shrugged, "well, i got to have a full stomach throughout the day or else i'll be tired during practice. and frankly, i do not want to get yelled at by coach williams."

he continued to grab the apple off his tray, biting into it.

"he's so scary, i don't know how you can even look him in the eyes." you said, and mayt chuckled.

"yeah, well, i've dealt with some scary people in the past."

you knew that was true, and you knew for a fact that he was talking about his ex-girlfriend, summer. she was such a bitch, always controlling matt and the things he did.

nodding, you went back to simple chatter like complaining about how your classes are way too long, and how the teachers don't care about their students.

both of you still remember when matt laughed at those jokes you made about the teachers back when he was dating summer. he still laughed even at his lowest times, even when he felt like dying.

his smile looked so sincere to others, yet only you could tell what was going on in his head, those bad thoughts. his anxiety had only gotten worse when him and summer became a thing.

whereas matt could never tell what was going on behind those eyes. you always kept your composure, making sure nobody got to you.

"catch!" that was the thing you had heard just before a football went flying in your direction.

it hit you straight in the face, and you stumbled to the ground, groaning as you held your cheek.

matt had watched as the boy who threw the ball begin to laugh, and his hands clenched into fists before rushing to your aid.

"y/n, are you okay?" he muttered, grabbing your hand and helping you back on your feet.

smiling at the boy, you nodded, "mhm, just my cheek hurts a little."

matt couldn't contain himself anymore, it was always that same dipshit who picked on you. this was his final straw.

leaving your side, matt went to grab the football before rushing over to the guy. before he could even comprehend what was happening, matt threw the ball at his face.

the tip of the football hit his nose, hard. with how close matt was and how much force he had put into the throw, it definitely broke the guy's nose.

"what the fuck?!" he whined, holding his bloodied nose as he shut his eyes tight.

you could only stand there, hands clasped over your mouth in shock at what matt had just done. he was never the type to have sudden outbursts like this, and he surely wasn't the type to confront someone.

"maybe fight someone of your gender next time, bud." matt smiled fakely, shoving the boys shoulder before returning to your side.

he hadn't said a word to you, he just interlaced your arms and began walking somewhere else in the courtyard.

when the two of you had settled in a more quiet area under a tree, matt finally spoke, "i'm sorry,"

"i guess i was just fed up with him always picking on you. and i mean, seriously, what fucking guy messes with a girl?" he scoffed, rubbing his knee as he looked down.

your lips curved into a small smile as you reached over to grab his hand. you slid your fingers between his, and they fit almost perfectly.

matt's face went pink, and he looked away with a smile.

"i know you just want to keep me safe matt, it's okay. don't be sorry." you said quietly, running your thumb over the top of his hand.

the sky was a soft orange, some pink blending in as the mountains covered the rest of it.

matt and yourself were sitting on a blanket at the park, waiting until it was dark to see the stars.

it was something the two of you did occasionally, and yet you never got bored of it. your conversations were always new and the stars had always seemed to be arranged differently.

matt couldn't help but get lost in the sight of the sun setting, his mind going completely blank.

"you never see a sunset in your life?" you joked quietly, and matt laughed as he looked over at you.

"be quiet," his hand ran over the soft fabric of the blanket, and suddenly all he could think about was you.

the sun set faster than you thought, and soon enough the stars were out. you and matt lay side by side as you stare up at the night sky, fixated on each and every little detail.

the silence was comforting and sweet, the feeling of matt being present beside you made you feel like there was some sense of security surrounding the two of you.

matt's lips parted, and he turned his head to state at you for a little. you seemed so lost in thought, so peaceful like this.

"what ya thinkin' about?" matt whispered, a smile creeping onto his face.

you shrugged before turning to look him in the eyes, "if i said it, it'd weird you out."

his smile became wider, and he turned his head to look back at the stars, "eh, i think if i told you what i was thinking about right now, you'd quite literally slap me."

chuckling, you continued to stare at matt, eyes flickering over all his features.

"really?" matt nodded in response, laughing.

"yep, now c'mon, your thought can't seriously be that bad. tell me, please?" he sounded like a little kid when he begged like this, and that was one of the reasons you loved being his friend.

you dragged your hands down your face, sighing exaggeratedly loud, "fine,"

"i was thinking about how different things would be if we hadn't met." you said, voice soft.

matt nodded, letting a few moments of silence pass by before speaking, "yeah? well, you'd probably be alone woth no joy in your life."

"shut up!" you laughed, punching his shoulder gently.

matt laughed, rolling onto his side to look at you closer.

"now it's your turn, kid." you muttered, smiling at him.

silence enveloped you two again, and this time you could feel a twinge of tension in the air between your two bodies.

he twiddled with his thumbs as his smile faded. he had been full of courage all day and now he couldn't even look at you.

was it really worth risking the friendship?

what if you hadn't felt the same way, what if you didn't love him.

he couldn't even believe the words that came out of his mouth next. they always say sooner is better than later, i guess.

"i love you, y/n." he said quickly, and you almost figured he was joking.

well, until you saw that look in his eyes. the look that he gave summer at the beginning of their relationship.

fuck.

your smile faded, and you just stared at the boy beside you.

matt tensed, his eyes going anywhere but to your own as he let you process what he said.

"you're lying," was all you could say at the moment.

matt's eyes snapped up to yours at the... accusation? he couldn't tell if it was a question or if you were accusing him.

he shook his head anyway, muttering a quiet disagreement, "i'm not."

"yes, you are, matthew. you can't actually love me," you raised your voice, sitting up as you stared down at him with wide eyes.

the brunette boy sat up next, tears welling in his eyes.

crying wasn't like him, he never cried.

you looked away before speaking up more, "take it back, please,"

he was just joking, he was surely gonna say he was trying to make you laugh. right?

no, he was never the type of guy to joke about stuff like this. he was in love with you, really.

matt shook his head again, sniffling as he wiped his eyes, "no, y/n. it's true."

"no, no. you didn't mean to say 'i love you'," your mind was racing with all kinds of thoughts.

why were you even making this such a big deal, it wasn't like you didn't love him as well. it's just that... you didn't want to.

you didn't want to love him because you knew how things like this went. the breakup would be 10x as hard as a normal one.

now you were both crying, and you hadn't even realized until a tear drop hit your bare knee.

"i'm sorry, fuck, i didn't mean to make you cry." matt apologized, his hands shaky as he reached out for you.

you couldn't help but fall into his arms, sobbing on his shoulder as you tightly wrapped your arms around his waist.

he muttered reassuring things as he rubbed your back, his voice sometimes cracking as he also cried.

this wasn't how the night was supposed to go, you weren't supposed to end up red-eyed in matt's arms.

you were supposed to be staring at the stars and talking nonsense.

now nothing was normal, you could never escape the fact that you loved him now.

"i have to go," you said, pulling away from his embrace to pack up your things.

matt stayed silent, deciding that was the best thing to do right now.

you left without another word, and it wasn't until you were halfway across the park that matt noticed you left your blanket.

his lips parted as he let out a quiet sob. lying back down on the blanket, he cried into it.

it was like you were hugging him, and just for a second he believed that you might be able to forgive him.

but then it faded as doubts came crashing into his mind again.

"i hate you," he muttered to himself, punching the grass once before wrapping himself back up in your blanket.

"i hate you, i hate you, i fucking hate you!" he yelled, sobbing.

. . .

tags: @cindylcuwho @55sturn @ryli3sworld @mattsneezing @voidghsts @films4sturni @h3arts4harry @freshloveee @raysmayhem-72 @imtalkinnonsense @chrissturnswife @cheriematt @mattyb4dominicans @freshloveforthefit

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themillsdaughter · 3 days

Text

a privilege I deprive myself of

Synopsis: you would rather chew glass than see Melissa yearn for something and not have it delivered to her. the thing, however, is that your life is a shitshow, and what was meant to be an act of kindness upends any effort you've made throughout the years to keep your feelings hidden.

or slightly insecure! Melissa and traumatized! reader in a Valentine's Day au inspired by this prompt.

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: Talks of body image.

Also, my first time dabbling in this fandom and character, so... Hope you like it!

This isn’t ideal.

Valentine's Day has never been your favorite. Truthfully, you think it’s only yet another excuse for Capitalism to suck some extra cash out of millions of pockets.

You’ve thought this your entire life, regardless of being in a relationship or not. The thing, however, is that you live in a capitalist society and escaping the emotional reliance on the holiday is damn near impossible. So, throughout the years, you’ve come to terms with at least doing something for partners on the day.

Well, that is, until you’d walked in your apartment one day and found your girlfriend straddling a woman you’d never seen before.

This year, you’re single, so the whole thing had just slipped into the background, a red and pink festival more than anything else, really.

“You’re not doing anything?” Janine had asked a few days before in the teachers' lounge, brow furrowed, pity shining in her eyes. Dear God. “You know, Galentine’s Day is really popular now.”

“Honey, I barely want to celebrate the day when I have someone. Why would I make a fuss now that I have an out?” You’d gone back to grading, trying your damnest not to roll your eyes.

“Well, Tariq used to be like that, too. Even though we were together. Sometimes he would forget and go on trips, and those times were pretty lonely… You know, with all the hearts and chocolate and candles and couples around. Not that that’s the case this year, you know. I’m with Maurice, and he’s super attentive.” Her uncomfortable fidgeting had made her chair squeak. As sweet as she is, she should really learn how to stop projecting. “Anyways, I just worry about you. I don’t want you to feel lonely.”

“I don’t.”

“She doesn’t.” Melissa had said, at the same time as you. Looking up from the papers, you’d shared a grin with her. “She has enough wondering thoughts to keep her company.”

Finally, you’d given into your urge and rolled your eyes.

So this really isn’t ideal.

“I think this one is too tight, though.” The voice coming from your phone said. You turned the heat from the stove down, placed a half-lid over the pan, and picked up the device from the counter. On the screen, you saw something that made you pull out a stool from your island and thank God that the woman on the other side of the line was too busy looking at herself in the mirror, brows furiously furrowed, to notice.

Melissa had her hair up in a messy bun, her old pair of glasses hanging in the middle of her nose, and a dark red dress on that stole the breath from your lungs.

The material was soft, with satin-like finish, puffy long sleeves, a square neckline that showed her cleavage to perfection and a skirt that hit her a few inches above her knees.

Nervously, her hands tried to smooth over the creases formed on the dress by her belly.

“Maybe I could wear some spanks” she sighed. “It’s too tight, right?” She turned back to where the phone was, asking you directly.

For a few seconds, you struggled to think of something other than ‘uh’ to say. Melissa is stunning and, in those moments, you wished you’d been braver back when you’d had the chance. Maybe, she’d be asking Barbara this, getting ready as a surprise for you, not for somebody else.

In a breath, you swallowed that feeling, locking it away with all the ones of its kind, somewhere deep, deep in your soul.

“Hun? It’s too tight, isn’t it? Who the fuck do I think I am trying on something like this.” She’d taken your silence as disapproval, and if she only knew you’d only want to see that off of her if you’d taken it out yourself…

“Shut up, will you?” You finally said. “It’s gorgeous, it looks awesome on you.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s the nicest one of the bunch.”

“I don’t know if I have spanks short enough for it, though. And I need something to get this under control.” She pushed her belly in again, and it enraged you.

“Anyone who doesn’t find that hot is not someone you should listen to.” You said, holding back the rant that always appeared on the tip of your tongue when she said shit like this.

Honestly, the struggle of straight men to like women is mind-boggling.

“You might just be too gay for this.” Melissa snorted, going into her drawer in search of the spanks.

“Well, fuck you very much.”

She barked out a laugh, and you let go of your phone to stir the food you were cooking, glad for a break from the glory of the woman you did not love like that.

Which is yet another reason why this isn’t ideal.

You don’t really care for Valentine's Day, but on the morning of the 14th, Melissa had seemed off. You tried touching on the subject while you two got coffee, as weak as Abbott’s brew always was, however, Gary walked in in all of his mustached glory and her attention immediately shifted to him.

He’s her boyfriend, it’s Valentine's Day, it was only logical.

She gave him hint after hint, pushed her shoulders a bit back, highlighting her breasts just slightly, cocked her hips some while leaning against the sink, licked her lips more than usual, everything to get an ounce of attention back. The absolute idiot fussed over the vending machine, mumbled a few words to her, eyes not even moving in her direction, before leaving with a “see ya later” tossed behind him.

The look that had taken over her face then had made your heart sink.

“He’s been like this all week.” She said during lunch break in your car. “Barbara thinks he might be planning something, says he’s not cheating, but I don’t know… I tried fooling myself with getting the perfect outfit, getting my hair and my nails done, but he hasn’t mentioned any plans, and he’s been so fucking distant, he doesn’t even seem like himself. And I really can’t handle another Joe situation.” Taking the last bite of the Shepard’s pie you’d brought her, she leaned her head against the rest.

To nearly everybody else here, she shows her angry, reactive, gray side. It’s easier for her, something that still makes her an outcast, but firmly protects her inner-self. But some magical, all-powerful, incredible being out there had made it so you were the one she chose to show her other side to, the one that is not always confident, not in her worth or her looks or her ability as a teacher.

The one that loves so intensely it scares her, and the one that has so many scars she spends half her time trying to heal them, or, at the very least, stop them from bleeding all over the place and being visible to the outside world.

“What do you think?” She said, bringing you back to the inside of your 2010s Honda. “You’ve always been better at these things.”

“Do I think he’s cheating on you?”

She nodded.

“Well, first of all, if he is, he is an absolute deepshit who doesn’t know how to count his blessing for you even giving him the time of day.”

You looked into her eyes while you said it, and she turned her head after, staring at the Tupperware in her hands. You thought you saw a blush creeping up on her cheeks.

“But I don’t think he is. Hey, maybe he’s just seen Valentine’s Day for what it is!” You nudged her arm with the back of your hand. “Maybe you’re the one who has to get on board.”

She relented a smile then, but it didn’t last.

“Mel, I think you’ll just have to ride this one out. Wait until the end of the day, so then you can actually have a conversation with him. If he really forgot or if there’s really something wrong, you’ll find out, but, honestly, me? I think he might just have some goofy-ass surprise planned.”

Melissa nodded while keeping her gaze out the window.

There’s a beat, then another, and you thought perhaps you’d convinced her, and she was only taking some time to absorb it.

“You know, you may not feel lonely with this kind of stuff, but…” She paused, voice tired, heart bearing all those tender scars, “I think I’m more like Janine than I’d thought.”

So, hm, this isn’t ideal.

You’d be damned if you let a man who didn’t realize the one in a million he had found ruin Melissa’s day.

Even if Valentine’s Day was traumatic for you, even if it was silly and forced and the world would be better off without it, Melissa was Melissa, and she deserved everything she wanted out of life. You’d thought Gary would see it, but if he didn’t, it’s up to you, even with all your emotional limitations.

So you wrote a little card. Nothing much, just made out of a fancier piece of purple paper you’d had lying around the classroom, with a heart-sticker you’d found at the bottom of your purse decorating the front page. Inside, the note wasn’t all that special, just enough for her to know she would never be alone. That you loved her. That she’d always have you, even if one day she didn’t have anyone else. That she’s your favorite, and if she wanted to, you’d take her out for dinner yourself.

As a friend, of course. Truly.

The fact she made your chest inflate and your pressure drop and a flock of butterflies run a full marathon in your stomach were not things that were included.

After sending the students home, saying goodbye to everyone else (Gregory and his Legos, Janine and her designer bag she knew nothing about, Ava and her many flings and Jacob and his slam poetry), you’d walked to the lounge, where you’d seen Barb and Mel walking towards only a few minutes earlier.

On the way there, you’d seen a bouquet of gerberas discarded on the hallway floor. You’d wondered if a poor kid had gotten broken up with on that day of all days, or if the bouquet held any card of its own. You’d picked it up, deciding to bring it to the compost pile later.

You hadn’t realized how it looked until it had been too late.

“Hey, Mel, I have something for…” You’d started, rounding the corner to enter the room.

“I love you too.” She’d said, looking into Gary’s eyes. In a split second, you’d registered there was something off about her voice, something lacking.

And now here you are, in this less than ideal situation.

All three look at you, standing in the doorway with a card and flowers, calling after another person’s girlfriend. Shit.

“What do you have for her?” Gary’s hand tightens on her waist just so.

So, yeah. Not fucking ideal.

“Hey, look at that. I uh…actually forgot the… ah… The book I was lending you.” You mumble. Spinning on your heels, you walk as fast as humanly possible without breaking into a sprint.

Stupid-ass, invented, asinine holiday.

******

You’re more than half-way through a bottle of Merlot when your doorbell rings.

“Fucking finally!” You shout, jumping from your couch, your belly clenching painfully. Opening up your front door, though, your shoulders drop. “You’re not Postmates.”

“No, I am not. You know what else I also am not? Enjoying this beautiful night with my husband.” Barbara floods you with words, walking past you into the living room.

“Why is that, exactly?” And maybe you’re starting to get drunk, because she seems furious with you, and you can’t remember the last time that ever happened.

“Because I cannot possibly enjoy what was supposed to be a romantic moment with Gerald when I get a desperate phone call from my best friend’s partner asking me if I know where she is.”

It’s too many words too fast, so you sit back down and blink hard, trying to focus.

“What are you talking about?”

“Gary called me. He doesn’t know where Melissa is.”

Melissa. Suddenly, the reason you’d started drinking comes back to you. Shit. Shit shit shit.

“Have you seen her?” Barbara seems to take pity on you, be it for your drunkenness or the way your face scrunches up at the name.

“Not since this afternoon, no. What happened?”

“Gary says she went after you, came back in a different mood. Then they got into an argument in the middle of dinner, because she didn’t seem to be enjoying it, which is strange considering she spent the day worrying he wouldn’t do anything special, as we both know.” She sits down on the futon in front of you. “He says she broke up with him right then and there, and left.”

What?

“What?”

“I don’t understand it either. What did you say to her in the hallway?”

“Nothing, I didn’t talk to her in the hallway, or at all.”

Barbara looks away, shaking her head with an incredulous smile on her lips.

“You two are… God forgive me, but infuriating.” She turns back, sighing. “Did she text you? I’ve called and called, but she hasn’t picked up. She’s not at her house, either.”

“I don’t know.” You pull your phone from the middle of the cushions. “It’s been on focus mode the whole night, I only got notifications for my food.”

“Can you try her? Maybe she’ll pick up if it’s you.”

“You’re starting to freak me out.”

“Yes, well, at least we’ll be on the same page.”

The line rings three times before going to voicemail. Then, there’s someone pressing your doorbell again. Your stomach aches.

Again, not Postmates.

“You’re an asshole!” It’s the first thing out of Melissa’s mouth. As the second person today pushes her way into your home, Barbara jumps up from her seat.

“You’re alive, you’re whole?” She turns Melissa over, taking advantage of the woman’s confusion at seeing her here. “Are you stupidly drunk?”

“Uh… No. Why…”

“Are you going to make any decisions that might land you in jail?”

“No.”

“Thank you, Jesus!” Barbara shouts, letting go of the redhead, lifting her hands in praise, and walking to the door. “Please, resolve your issues and let me have my steak in peace. I’ll call your boy-“ She looks Melissa over. “I’ll call Gary, let him know you’re okay. Goodbye. Also, you’re both on probation until further notice.”

She closes the door behind her with a bang, and the two of you are left alone, staring at each other.

Her make-up is smudged, as if she’d been crying, and that beautiful, beautiful red dress shines under the light. The vision worries you at the same time it sets the butterflies off.

Once more, with feeling: this is not ideal.

It feels like forever goes by, just like this, with neither of you moving or speaking or looking away.

Until she unclenches her fist, and you see your card, the one you’d lost on your rush to leave.

“You couldn’t have picked a better moment?” Melissa asks, placing the piece of paper on your entrance table. Her anger, so explosive moments ago, is low and dangerous now, simmering with the hurt in her eyes.

“Listen, I know how it looked-“

“Any other moment.” She keeps going, incapable of stopping now that she’s started. “Maybe one of the endless times when we sat on that fucking couch watching those boring movies you like. Or… Or maybe one of the nights when we spent hours pouring over project ideas or education strategies. Or really any other time before I made the decision to move on.”

Her heart is there, right in front of you, in the tears that drown the gorgeous green of her irises. Somehow, you feel like this is the cataclysm of thoughts and words and feelings you had both held back for years.

“What?” You mumble for the second time tonight.

“I found every excuse in the book to avoid this, to avoid looking for someone else. And some of it was true, really. Joe did a number on me, which you know – which is why that just hurt worse.” She points to the card, bent in half and slightly crumbled. “But most of it was crap, and I knew it was crap, but I convinced myself it wasn’t because you weren’t ready, but you are amazing, and maybe it was better to wait just a little longer to see if you ever got your shit together, if you ever got over what that ex of yours did. But you never, ever did.”

“Melissa, the flowers…”

“Yeah, gerberas, my favorites, I know. That was a nice touch. You probably knew he wouldn’t remember that detail.”

“No, Mel, I didn’t buy them.” You step forward, past the table, close enough to reach out and touch her arm, if you were brave enough. You never are.

“What, are you gonna tell me you grew them too?” She snorts, humorlessly. “You know, the worst part is that you encouraged me. You told me to go after him, to let him woo me. Even this morning! You told me to wait for him, just to pull this crap.”

She raises her hand, wipes her eyes, and Christ, what the hell have you done?

She breathes in, and it would be wondrous if it weren’t terrifying, how she puts her heart away, takes the part reserved just for you to see and hides it from view.

“I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know, and this whole time you’ve been leading me on, never really letting me go, no, but still pushing me away.”

In love you with you. In love you with you.

I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.

It reverberates inside your brain as if an echo in a museum. In love with you.

The person who lights up your days without a fail, the woman who’s made every single potential partner pale in comparison, a staple in your life so important that the mere thought of risking something that could make you lose her had forced you to bury all warm and fuzzy feelings. That woman. This woman. Melissa. Your Melissa. In love with you.

You feel your past is too broken to believe her, but still the thought of her being this hurt is unacceptable.

“Mel, I didn’t write the card to steal you away.”

You risk it now, because you feel her slipping through your fingers, and not seeing her heart when she looks into your eyes makes you feel the loneliest you ever have. You risk reaching over, placing one hand on each of her upper arms. The fabric there is so soft it surprises you.

She flinches, but allows it.

“Just to keep me from giving up, right?”

“You know me better than that.” You try, throat tight. You damn sure hope she does. “I wrote it because you seemed really hurt, and just in case Gary messed up, I wanted you to know you at least had me. You’ll always have me.”

She shakes her head, eyes welling up again.

“What a great pal you are.” Melissa whispers.

“I found the fucking flowers on the floor, I was gonna take them to the trash.” You lose your patience for a split second, because maybe you were tactless, but this is a bit too far, even for such a stubborn woman.

She raises a brow.

“I’m not trying to cover my ass.”

“’You’re the person I think about the most’” She quotes the card. “Did you mean that?”

“Of course.” You say without a thought.

“As a friend?” She challenges.

No. Yes. Maybe. It’s on the tip of your tongue.

If you risk this next step, will you lose her eventually? Like you have every other woman you have loved like this? Will you lose yet another person, yet another soul you feel you can rest beside?

You let your hands travel down slightly.

“Mostly.” She breaks eye contact, frowning. “I cherish our friendship so much, Melissa. But part of me wanted to say more. To say things that weren’t purely platonic. I didn’t mean to steer you around.” You sigh. This is… a lot. “I want to see you happy, Mel. More than anything in the world, you deserve that. And I just felt like allowing myself to feel all those things for you would jeopardize that. You’re an explosive, hot-headed, weird, outlaw Italian with a great mind and a huge, huge heart, and you’re definitely too good for me.”

She shakes her head again, but looking at those amazing, gorgeous, breathtaking green orbs, you find a glimpse of that other side of hers, even if the tears are still there, hiding underneath the surface.

“Today, I only wanted to make sure you would be okay. And I’m sorry about the misunderstanding. I truly didn’t want to ruin that moment for you.” Finally, you reach her hands, and she holds yours back. You fit. “And I have only ever encouraged you to go out there because I really believe you deserve to have the fullest life you can possibly have, and that’s probably with someone… less damaged. Someone good and kind. Someone like Gary.”

Melissa mumbles to herself in Italian.

Forse sarebbe più facile.

“But I don’t love Gary.” She says simply, in English, relaxing into your touch, sending your blood pressure through the roof.

I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.

“I know.” You say.

You had seen it in her eyes when she’d returned his declaration earlier, the emptiness, the masking, the guilt for lying. She wanted to love him so badly.

She’d looked at you back then and, for a split second, before the confusion and embarrassment that had followed, she’d seemed relieved, as if saying there’s the one who sees me. And something more.

Now, the something more is clearer.

“I know you’re scared.” She whispers again. “And you always, always try to protect me from these things. Never when I get myself mixed up with family business or get into fights…”

“Well, I trust your right hook for that.” You can’t help yourself. She snorts very, very softly, and maybe there’s hope yet.

“But you always try to keep me safe from this, even from you.” Melissa lets go of one your hands, placing a palm against your cheek. Oh, so that’s what it means to have a heart attack. “But I have never, ever, been afraid of your baggage, you jackass.” The spark of defiance that flashes through her expression pulls a smile from you.

If someone had asked you yesterday if this happening was something you thought possible, you’d have laugh them out of the room.

“I just wish you’d given me that god-damn card before I’d wasted this dress on somebody else and had broken a man’s heart for nothing.”

“Poor Gary,” you whisper.

“Yeah… Poor Gary.”

So, perhaps it’s not ideal, with the tears and heartache and being on Barb’s bad side, but she leans up on her tip toes, squeezing your hand, palm migrating down to hold your neck, and despite not being ideal, it does feel oddly right.

“I don’t give a fuck if you hate Valentine’s Day and you think this is corny. You better kiss me before I lose my nerve, or I swear to…”

For the first time in your adult life, you forgo your mind, trying something with risks that may far outweigh the good. With a tug, you pull her in, leaning down, breath catching in your throat when your lips connect, and you find you don’t give two shits about the risks.

Heaven.

Of course, your doorbell rings not five seconds later. Fucking Postmates.

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary fic #angst with a dab of humor (if you squint)#can anyone tell I am really into sarcasm as a form of comedy? ANYWAYS #themillsdaughter writes #‘hey shouldn’t you be trying to finish that wyp you started 3 years ago?’#yes yes i should but that’s not how the muse works apparently

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lilasamaaa · 3 days

Text

In the crowd | Carlos Sainz x Reader

Genres | Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

Word count | 3.6K.

Warnings | Alcohol consumption, drugs, mentions of violence.

Summary | Reader's an engineer at Scuderia Ferrari in Maranello. While attending the season's launch party, her drink gets spiked.

Author's Note | Hi all! After the longest time, I've felt the need to come back here for some silly writing. New blog because the last one got cringe. Let me know what you think!

One might think that after two years within the scuderia, the season’s launch parties would make her less uneasy. That after two years of being apart of the engineering team, she would finally be used to attending public gatherings. That after two years, she’d be a natural at walking in the open, feeling the glances slide over her figure. She is stunningly beautiful. Perhaps that's her burden. She doesn't realize it.

When she walks across the paddock or the stands, she knows people are staring at her. She avoids meeting their gazes, feeling embarrassed. She thinks there must be something wrong with her outfit, with her gait. Why else would they stare for so long?

In Maranello, there’s a bakery at the corner of the HQ building where she stops every morning. The cashier always offers her something extra. A coffee. An additional pastry. She finds him polite, very customer-oriented. One morning, as she was freeing her croissant from the paper napkin it was wrapped in, she’d discovered a phone number scrawled in pen ink, with a hastily drawn smiley face. She’d stared at the napkin, perplexed, seated at her desk. He must have made a mistake, she thinks. It must have been meant for the customer before her. The one with the beautiful blonde curls and the Chanel perfume. She didn't call, didn't send a message. She continued to visit the bakery. The cashier never mentioned the number, proving her theory.

Someone brushing past her brings her back to earth. The party is in full swing, and she’s just not. She spots her colleagues bustling around the buffet and the bar, engrossed in lively conversations. While some don't even notice her, others wave their hands, encouraging her to join them. She forces a smiles, returns the wave. Then she tightens her grip around her clutch. Anything to make her feel like she’s in control. To make her forget that the music’s too loud, the lights too vibrant, the air too hot.

She doesn't remember ever feeling comfortable in her body. Years of growing up in an unstable family where love was doled out sparingly do that to a person.

"Hey," comes a familiar voice. She turns her head, her big eyes catching sight of Livio’s, one of her colleagues. "Are you not dancing?" he continues, a drink in hand. His whiskey breath hits her straight on. She discreetly glances at her watch, noting that it's barely nine.

"I haven't had enough to drink for that," she replies, trying to dodge the invitation.

"Let's go get you something then," Livio responds, grabbing her arm and heading towards the bar.

She's noticed that men always do that with her. Not just her colleagues, but people she doesn't know either. She's too kind, too gentle; she never raises her voice. So they grab her by the hips, the arms, the wrists. Anything is an excuse to touch her. She hates it.

"What do you want?" Livio asks.

Nothing, really, but she can't say that.

"Something sweet, please. I don't like strong alcohol," she replies. Livio seems to ponder her question for a second, his mouth pursed.

"I have something for you to try, wait," he continues, signaling to the bartender. "You're going to like it, don't worry."

A few seconds later, a glass of Plymouth is placed in front of her, and she looks up at Livio. Does he think I've never tasted gin in my life? she wonders, puzzled. She would like to refuse the drink, ask for the cherry liqueur she discovered last time indeed. But already, Livio has grabbed her glass and hands it to her with a big smile. "Salute," he exclaims, downing his own glass in one gulp.

Cries and applause suddenly echo in the large reception hall, causing her to turn her head. It takes her a few minutes to understand the reason for this sudden commotion. Until she sees them, a few meters away.

Charles and Carlos.

Her eyes can't seem to tear away from the two pilots making their way through the crowd to a small stage where a microphone is set up. It's tradition : to kick off the season in style, the entire team eagerly awaits the drivers' speeches. Everyone wants to hear their words, their encouragements, their hopes and goals for the season.

A friend once asked her if she knew Charles and Carlos personally. She can't really say yes. That would be a lie. She's exchanged words with each of the athletes before, giving them information about the race, their car, and the expected weather. These exchanges have always been brief and cordial. Professional. Nothing more.

Even though... No, she thinks, lightly shaking her head. That was nothing. But still...

It had happened just before the race in Singapore, last year.

A friend from engineering school had moved there at the beginning of the year, and they had agreed to meet for dinner at a fancy restaurant in the city. It was an opportunity to reminisce about the years spent at Polytechnique, studying (a bit), suffering (a lot), and getting drunk (a whole lot).

She had chosen a long emerald green silk dress, slit up to mid-thigh. The perfect balance between classy and sexy. She had no intention of charming her companion - notoriously attracted to men, anyway - but this meal was the perfect excuse to leave her eternal Ferrari jumpsuits for something more feminine.

In the long corridor leading to the elevator, she'd suddenly felt on a catwalk, letting herself get caught up in the moment and rolling her hips perhaps a tad too exaggeratedly. The person emerging from the corner at the far end of the corridor surprised her, but not enough to disrupt her stride, her heels clicking against the floor.

She had recognized him immediately, of course.

Dressed in a simple fitted black polo and a pair of dark jeans, his eyes had not left hers throughout their crossing. When the two had finally reached the same level, she'd breathed out a small "Good evening, Carlos," suddenly insecure about everything. Her outfit. Her gait. The messy bun revealing her neck. The cleavage leaving no room for a bra and showing the beginning of her breasts.

He had passed her, nodding in acknowledgment, and each had continued on their way. She was certain... No, almost certain, that she had dreamt the words that had followed.

"That's one lucky guy."

Yes, she was almost certain she had dreamt it. Watching the Spaniard in the distance take hold of the microphone and tap it gently to check the connections, she became increasingly convinced. There was no chance that this man, chiseled from marble, could have noticed her. Desired her.

His accent echoes throughout the room, and she instinctively closes her eyes, as if bathed in the gentle sun of Madrid. She's not listening - not really - only catching words here and there. "Truly an honor," "Very impressed by your efforts," "Promising changes." But her mind is elsewhere, between Maranello and Singapore, tethered to the memory that makes her lower abdomen tingle in the sweetest of ways.

"And now, it's time to celebrate!" Carlos says as the room erupts with joy and anticipation.

"Earth to you?" comes a much less pleasant voice than the one that has just quieted down.

"I'm sorry, what?" she says, returning her attention to Livio.

"Oh, wow, you've got to be kidding me. Is it just me, or are you completely absorbed by this guy?" Livio replies, his mouth twisted in a grimace.

"Who?" she asks, genuinely confused.

"Sainz. You were hanging on his every word."

"I just think it's nice that they're giving an encouraging speech. Both of them," she explains, avoiding the Italian's gaze.

"Yeah, okay. Should we get another drink?" he asks, taking hold of her arm again.

She wants to protest. She can still taste the gin at the back of her mouth. It can't have been more than twenty minutes since her first drink. But Livio is already almost dragging her behind him, clearly determined not to let her escape tonight. And once again, that hand locks around her arm. Firm. Not open to discussion. She feels something almost territorial in the gesture, something that strongly displeases her, so she vows to mention it to Livio. Someday. Not tonight.

This time, he doesn't even pretend to care about what she wants to drink, ordering two whiskies straight away. She hates it. The taste, the look, what this alcohol does to her mind and body. But Livio has already slipped two bills to the bartender, and a moment later, the amber liqueur lands in her right hand.

While her drinking companion is already tilting his head back, clearly unaware that this type of alcohol is to be savored and not downed in one go, she observes the glass, intrigued by the few bubbles that are forming on the surface. I had no idea whiskey could do that, she thinks before bringing the liquid to her lips.

A few minutes later, she's managed to shake off Livio by claiming she needed to use the restroom. She crosses paths with Carlos walking in the other direction, maybe three people ahead of her, but he doesn't notice her.

In front of the restroom mirror, touching up her lipstick, her focus changes as she sees a drop of sweat trickle down her temple and slide slowly onto her cheek. I'm rather cold, though, she thinks, almost suppressing a shiver. Her head suddenly feels very light. She blames the alcohol. Putting her lipstick back in her clutch and tucking a strand of hair that threatened to escape from her bun, she pushes the restroom door open again, bracing herself to face the social world once more.

Passing by the buffet, a wave of nausea washes over her, forcing her to stop for a few seconds, leaning against the table and closing her eyes.

"I thought it was you," echoes the sunny accent in her ears. With her eyes still closed, she wishes their new encounter, one that she'd admit she's dreamed about, had happened differently. At a better time. A time when she wasn't battling a fierce urge to throw up.

"Are you okay?" Carlos inquires, raising his hand as if to support her but stopping halfway.

She takes a few seconds to push the unpleasant sensations from her body as far away as possible before lifting her head, opening her eyes, and being rewarded with the exquisite sight of his luscious hair and amber eyes.

"Hi," she manages to utter in a faint voice. "Great speech," she continues, still leaning against the table.

"You look pale," the driver responds, looking concerned.

The words escape her lips before they even reach her brain. She regrets them instantly. Something inside her just give way, like a dam.

"Sorry. I must have looked better in Singapore," she says.

Carlos widens his eyes, surprised, before letting out an awkward laugh.

"Sorry for staring at you like that, that night. You were... Well, you are...," he continues, seeming to search for his words.

She would so love to hear the rest, to know what he was going to say. But dizziness seizes her, and she feels herself tipping against the table. Well, almost, because suddenly, an arm wraps around her waist, pressing her against a chest that, yes, she's also dreamed about several times. But not like this. Not in this state.

"Hey," Carlos says, his voice tinged with worry.

"I'm so sorry, this never happens to me. I must have had one drink too many, I—"

"I saw you at the bar not even ten minutes ago," the Spaniard continues. "No alcohol hits you that fast. Not even shots."

"I'm fine," she says, and the pilot understands that she's saying it not only to reassure him but herself as well. And, as if the words had commanded it, the fog in her mind dissipates a bit. Enough for her to gently detach herself from the pilot, finding her balance on her own two feet again. She'd like to take advantage of this newfound clarity to keep the Spaniard close to her. Him, that she never crosses paths with, whom she never speaks to, and yet who appeals to her so much.

But Charles arrives. He smiles at her, asks if she's okay, if she's enjoying the evening, and oh, "I'll borrow him for a moment, I'm so sorry, sponsors, you know," and oh, once again, she finds herself alone at the buffet, watching the two men walk away, Carlos still watching her as he reluctantly retreats.

"I was beginning to think he'd never leave," Livio says, leaning against the buffet, his hip brushing against hers.

She wants to scream. Oh, how badly she wants to.

Sensing that she's not going to respond, the Italian tries his luck again.

"Should we dance? You seem intoxicated enough, now."

She doesn't even have time to respond before her colleagues guides her onto the dance floor, eagerly pressing his body against hers. His breath, previously tinged with whiskey, now betrays hints of tequila. The guy never has enough, she thinks, twirling reluctantly.

And there it goes again. The nausea, the queasiness. Spinning her around like a puppet doesn't help, she tells herself. She comes to a halt, cutting off Livio's momentum, causing some dancing couples to narrowly avoid colliding with them. Feeling vulnerable, she tries to get away, to seek refuge elsewhere. But her wrist is once again trapped.

"You don't look well. Come on, let's get you some fresh air," Livio says, heading towards one of the large glass doors.

She's often been described as naive by her loved ones. She believes that the whole world means well towards her, never suspects anyone of ill intentions. She would even say about herself that she has no instincts, let alone survival instincts. No sense of danger. Yet, perhaps for the first time in her life, something deep inside her is screaming not to follow the man. Her signals are on alert. Everything is flashing red in her mind. For her, it's a first. So, without thinking, without worrying about offending her colleague, she acts.

"I don't need to go outside," she says, trying to free herself from his grasp. She's sweating. She feels the unpleasant sensation of a thin layer of dampness creeping over her neck, her back, her hands.

Her feeble resistance is no match for Livio's strength, as he pulls her outside despite her protests. The music is too loud for anyone to hear their altercation. Divided between the buffet, the bar, and the dance floor, no one pays attention to this mismatched couple, to the determined man dragging a struggling woman behind him.

The door closes heavily behind them, stifling the sounds of the party, captured on the other side. It's cold outside, she feels it because her whole body shivers. But she, who was cold just a short while ago, feels like she's boiling. She raises her hand to her forehead, wiping away another bead of sweat that's formed between her eyebrows. What's happening to me? she thinks internally, troubled. Alcohol has never put her in such a state before.

"I'm so glad I ran into you tonight," Livio begins, either oblivious or indifferent to the young woman's condition.

She doesn't respond, feeling her head spinning, leaning against the wall behind her, gasping to try to catch her breath. Trying to control the burning heat that's engulfing her body.

"You look really beautiful tonight. Quite a change from the work overalls, huh!" the man continues.

She's not exactly sure at what moment he slipped between her legs, facing her, just a few centimeters from her face. But he's there, too close, forcing her to turn her head to the side to avoid his gaze - and his alcohol-laden breath.

"I said, you look really beautiful tonight," Livio says. "Are you not going to say anything?"

"What do you expect me to say to that?" she says, jaw clenched.

"Do you find me attractive?" the man asks, meeting her gaze.

The warning signals reappear along with the nausea. She barely has time to push the man away and lean to the side before emptying her stomach inches away from his feet. The naivety stops there. The pieces of the puzzle fall into place, realization hitting her painfully.

"What did you do to me?" she asks, her knees giving way under her weight, sending her crashing to the ground. He sneers, rolling his eyes, as she crawls a few meters, trying to put some distance between them. She's now sitting on the ground, her back to the wall.

"What? What are you talking about?" the Italian replies, offended.

"Did you put something in my drink?" she asks again.

"Come on, now. I've been helping you ever since you said you weren't feeling well. What kind of monster do you think I am?"

For a moment, her colleague's wounded look makes her seriously doubt herself. Maybe it really is just the alcohol, she thinks, trying to calm her racing mind. After all, why would someone deliberately choose to harm her? Why jump to that conclusion? Livio has always been charming. A bit clingy, but charming.

"I'm sorry for implying that. I'm gonna head back inside," she says, trying to stand up.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Livio answers, pushing her back down.

"What? why?" she asks, surprised.

"It wouldn't be very wise to parade in front of your colleagues and superiors in such a poor state," the Italian begins, his tone almost mocking. "It really doesn't give a good impression of you. It's not very professional."

"I haven't done anything, just had a few drinks," she responds, annoyed. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"You're so wasted you can't even stand. At a work event. Do you want to get fired or something?"

She opens her mouth to speak, to defend herself, but no words come out. She can't seem to figure out if Livio is with her or against her anymore. His words are harsh, aggressive, but deep down, the engineer probably isn't wrong. She struggled to secure a position here, at Ferrari. Even though she believes herself to be fairly skilled at her job and puts in long hours, there are hundreds of others doing the same work as her every day. And hundreds more who could replace her if the need arose.

She's not indispensable. She's not even that good at speaking Italian, having always had more ease in English or in French, even though she spends the majority of her evenings reading books in the language. She's just a tiny cog in the machine. She thinks about Carlos, too. What would he think, seeing me stumbling in the middle of the dance floor like a mad woman?

"Let me drive you home," Livio says, extending his hand. "Spare you the embarrassment."

She hadn't realized how tired she was. The offer is rather tempting. Getting back to her apartment, her cat, her bed. Above all, escaping the crowd. Forgetting this evening. Forgetting whatever she thought there was with Carlos, too, while she's at it. As a stronger wave of sleep washes over her, she temporarily closes her eyes.

"Come on," he says. "Let's get you in the car."

After her brain, her legs refuse to cooperate too. Her body barricades itself, trying to keep her firmly sheltered. Losing patience, Livio hoists her up, throwing her over his shoulder. She wants to protest against the position she finds herself in. That's so unladylike. Her last few connected neurons grapple over strange thoughts. I hope nobody sees my underwear, she thinks before her brain disconnects once again.

She's so far gone, yet the next words sound crystal-clear in her ears.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

Sounds like Carlos, she thinks, delirious.

"What does it look like to you? I'm bringing her home. She's wasted," she hears, and she thinks it might be Livio, because she feels his body shaking with each words.

"There's no way I'm letting you leave with her. Put her down."

"Yeah? So you can have your way with her?"

"No, so I can punch you in the fucking face," the accent-thick voice shouts.

She must have passed out for good because she doesn't remember anything else. When she wakes up next, which feels like an eternity later, she's sitting against a wall, this time indoors, wrapped in a golden emergency blanket. There's no more music. Opening one eye, then the next, she's met with Carlos' brown ones. She tries to speak but her mouth feels dry. The Spaniard hands her a glass of water, helping her bring it to her lips.

"I somehow managed to look even worse," she jokes, reminiscing their earlier encounter.

"The paramedics have just arrived. They're going to take you to the hospital for a check-up," he says and she nods.

"Thank you, Carlos," she replies.

"I haven't done the half of what I would have wanted," he says, regret filling his voice.

"What do you mean?"

"This has to be the worst timing ever, but I... I actually wanted to ask you out, before Charles interrupted us and before, well... this," he says, gesturing around them.

He doesn't see it, but hidden under the blanket, she pinches her arm. Hard. Just to make sure she won't wake up a second time. Seeing that nothing changes, she lets out a little laugh.

"If you wanted me to wear that silky green dress, I'm so sorry, but I ruined it in the washer."

"You can wear a garbage bag for all I care," Carlos replies, looking at her fondly. "You'll still stand out in the crowd."

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 imagine #carlos sainz #charles leclerc #formula1 #f1 2024 #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you

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pinkyqil · 1 day

Note

salma p. x reader who's not a footballer

prompt: blind date

location: barcelona

Blind date // salma paralluelo

Salma had been getting restless teasing from her friends and fellow teammates. Especially about her lover life or when she came back from one of her horrid dates that went awful.

"So Salma how did your last date go". vicky asked her with a teasing voice.

"Ugh I don't even want to talk about it spare me please".

"Nope you don't get to butt out of telling us". Pina and patri told her along with esme and ona agreeing with there statements.

She told them how it went especially how the other girl had accidentally spill a drink on her after refusing to give her free tickets to there next game and how she basically got ditched mid date.

"So your telling me she threw her drink on you after you declined her request and left you for someone else". vicky said before bursting into laughter along with the other girl's.

"Very well figured out genius". salma throwing her head back before laughing with them.

"You basically got toyed with amiga I feel bad for you.patri told her

"Thanks for the reminder guys let's go before we have to do extra laps". She told the group of friends before jogging away.

"I feel bad now guys poor salma".vicky told the group of girls as they made there way down

"Yeah". they said in tune before making there way back.

"Salma salma". Ona called up the tall girl trying to reach her before she left.

Upon hearing her name begin called she turned around to a already tried ona.

"Yes".she said

"Are you free tonight?".ona asked her

"Yep got nothing to do but watch a film".

"How about a blind date-".before ona could finish she got a no

"No after what I told you expect me to go on another one especially a blind date?".

"Please think about it I'll send you the details I promise you she's a good one". Ona explained to a very bother salma.

Salma found herself staring at ona's messages for a ungodly amounts of time.her heart and mind kept telling her two different things. Go and just enjoy yourself or stay and avoid going on the blind date knowing whatever could happen.

She decided to go knowing she's dealt with worse slama was never the type to face her challenges but when she did, she definitely takes over.so here she was looking through her closet and looking for the perfect fit to wear knowing that she was definitely going to be late.

She dusted her outfit one last time before heading inside the mini cafe restaurant. the nervousness was gone the moment she felt the cafe peaceful atmosphere. spoting a darked haired woman at the table she mentally cursed herself out for being late.

"Hi sorry for coming in late something came up". she said before taking a sit the moment she looked at you she felt and insanely amount of butterflies in her stomach.

Forget gorgeous you we're breathtaking when her eyes meet yours.

"No worries I didn't have to wait that long".you told her.

The date went smoothly in fact amazing.you both got to know each other a lot more and surprisingly you both had a lot more in common than you thought.

finding out that night she loved going for runs midnight jogs just like you made your heart flutter especially with how flirty she got mid date making you blush hard that you we're probably different shade.

After a while you both took a walk in the beautiful city of Barcelona holding hands breeze in your face and a fresh moment for you both.

"Same time next week". she asked you

"Definitely I really enjoyed the date salma thanks for making it meaningful for me".you told her

"No thank you I was actually contemplating on coming after awful date encounters but I'm glad I did".

The next day salma woke up with butterflies her mind was just filled with thoughts about seeing you and your next date together.

but sadly those thought had been interrupted when she head for training.

First person she saw would be ona who looked over the moon to see her telling from the huge grin she had on her face.

"Soo by the smile on your face I can assume the date went well".

"It did come one let's head down and I'll tell you everything".has she grabbed ona's hand so that they could partner up for drills and she's spils the date tea.

A/n: hope you like it added a lil twit of my own I'm still taking in the 3 player prompt thing all you gotta do is send in a player prompt and location hope y'all like enjoy this fic and has always feedbacks are appreciated 💗

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yandere-kokeshi · 2 days

Note

Please give us your Gaz headcanons I need that man carnally

— Yandere Headcanons of Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Warnings: Yandere behavior, fanon ideas by me, civilian(ish) reader, unhealthy relationship, detailed talks of kidnapping, manipulation, and (slight) smothering affection.

A/N: I went a bit overboard, so please excuse me, LOL 🫶😘

Kyle is an obsessive man, committing his whole energy and mind to memorizing everything; including the sweet images of you. As sweet as he can be, he’s just as manipulative and gaslighting in a sense of keeping you safe. Supervising over your items, mostly your phone and friends, while securing the many facts you’re only safe with him.

As much as he hates it, many haven’t stayed with him. He’s loyal– maybe a bit too much. He’s had many heartbreaks because of the strong hearts on his sleeves, forcing him to realize many of his “lovers” were just with him because they needed love, not showing affection to the actual pieces of him.

It disappoints him. He needs love like everyone else. A certain somebody to help, to shield, to love. Someone he could count on after a hard day of work, and relax in their loving, warm embrace.

But, you weren’t any of those lying skanks.

No, you weren’t cruel, or tried to take advantage of him — even if you two were still best friends. You’re something ripped straight from a fairy-tale. The rare ones that he’d read late at night during high-school.

In all, meeting you was the best decision he’d ever make.

Walking into that coffee shop he regularly visited too, patiently waiting in line and finding his eyes swiftly landing on your form from behind, was the prettiest sight he’s ever seen. Feeling his heart batter so fast for you, equally told him that he’d love you forever.

He wasn’t sure what was so hypnotizing of you. Maybe the fact you didn’t care what you were wearing, going out in public and wearing your nightwear without a care. Or how your voice was so addicting, like he could listen to it forever; another form of an audiobook, is what he’d say. Or maybe, just maybe, how cute your tongue was when it blepped out like a cat, focusing on whatever you were watching on your phone, waiting to be seen by the barista.

You were too pretty to be ignored. Forgotten. To be used by another person- and immediately, he knew you were the one for him.

He bit his lip, ignoring the “what ifs” and went for it. His crush on you was far too much more than something simple. It was love at first sight on his part.

Kyle will start at slow, a hand grasping your shoulder and catching your attention; asking about your order and ending up with your phone number. Gentle flirting is what it is, and it makes you feel a bit lighted. A nice man, a hot one at that, coming at you at this lame coffee shop? What a score.

In all: Kyle goes down the “original” hole of getting to know you. Shows up to your apartment, holding a vase of your favorite flowers and asking you out brightly. But, of course, ignoring the fact that a few nights ago, he was scrolling through his laptop, and was clicking through your network profiles, finding himself adoring what he sees. Eagerly writing down your likes, preferences, dislikes, and best-friends. Even your enemies in thick red writing.

He goes all out on gaining your attention. Loves taking you out on all types of cliché dates, such as the arcade and late evening dates to a charming restaurant. Or his favorites, an inside-date with popcorn and M&M’s whilst watching a horror movie. Secretly hoping you’d get scared and, just maybe, roll into him for comfort.

It’s the small things that are first, his eyes following your form everywhere. He’s hoping you feel the same. Hopes that you feel your own heart beat just as fast as his. Hands sweating and all shaking whenever you imagine him. Or the fact you’ll crave him as much as he does.

And the second you agree to be his – the rightful love of his – is when he really starts to show how much he gives everything his all. The very suggestion of letting you even breathe near anyone or anything that might be of competition.

Within the relationship, it’s completely normal. It all started on a normal pretense, and made you two fall in love so lovingly. He’s so kind and sweet. An ultimate gentleman. Never pressures you to do anything, and loves forehead kisses more than anything.

Kyle’s type of affection is so loving. He loves any type of excuse to spoil you, especially with his home-cooked food, and loves to be held and be holding you at any time. A hand in your back-pocket is expected, and tries so hard not to pinch or squeeze your globes.

Showers you in compliments galore, even if it’s the smallest things. “So pretty with your hair like that today” “My shirt looks so good on ya’”, often rubbing his face deeper into your neck with his kind words. “So glad you’re mine, love.”

Oh, and, let’s not forget, he’s extremely clingy; emotionally and physically. Sending good morning and good night texts, just loves the idea of you thinking of him as you lay your pretty head on that pillow, as he does the same.

But, he’s a harasser who sticks by your side. Always wanting to be the one to drive you to work, hands touching yours as the two of you eat breakfast and dinner, even kissing you sloppy when he’s just brushed his teeth for that morning. But can you blame him?

To you, he was an amazing man — your norm boyfriend, turned into fiancé then husband. He loves you dearly. But, there’s a deeper, darker side of him that even you do not know.

Despite his laid and cool back approach, Kyle is constantly thinking of bloody and brutal thoughts. He’s aware he shouldn’t have them– but he can’t stop having them.

He snickers when a man barely brushes against you. Growls when someone unexpectedly touches you. Or how anyone else compliments you, he lets out a sigh and notices your smile is too bright. A tad jealous, but rarely shows it towards you, but rather in his mind where he’s satisfied with his type of savage ending.

Though, he’s not prone to aggressiveness. He’d never kill for you, never. His heart clenches even at the thought of you missing someone he murdered with his irony knife. And with that, he only uses his murderous tactics if needed.

And instead, he prefers using manipulation. Dropping subtle hints of the people around you, making you double-think of their actions and ensuring you’re aware of their dangers. You shouldn’t trust them, only him, okay?

However– if you began to see the red flags. The ultimate words of leave, and to break off with him, he won’t be so happy. He tried everything to keep you happy, and you do this? Betray his trust and say to you, “we aren’t compatible with each other”?

But, the both of you are, right darling?

Eventually, you will see that, and since you want to leave him, it’s necessary to keep you in the house. You can’t live without him. And nor can he without you. Both of you are puzzled for each other, and with time and dedication, Kyle will have you submitting to his ways. Even if it breaks his heart.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, it helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

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undercoverpena · 23 hours

Text

11. dusky pink

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter eleven of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.7k chapter warnings: frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. frankie being a boy!dad, luca appearance. an: this one is called jo kicked her feet mid-writing and editing.

prev chapter | series masterlist

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

“You didn’t have to come to help me.”

Tilting your head, a grin playing at the corners of your lips, you adjust the apron he gave you. “I don’t mind. Plus, you did promise me food after, so.”

A hint of mischief dances in his eyes, tongue sweeping across his lower lip. “So, if I want to persuade you to do something, I should wave a carrot in your face.”

Smirking, biting down on your cheek as you slide the boxed screws onto the shelf. “Oh, you can definitely wave something in front of my face.”

It's instant, the way his mouth falls open, hanging. Frankie's arm pauses, mid-air, on the shelf as he stares, blinks, and eventually clears his throat. “That's… good to know.”

“Your voice cracked there a little bit.”

Glancing at you from the corner of his eye, body beginning to restock again, you watch as he swallows, his forehead crinkling. Did it?”

Laughing, you remove the empty box from the cart—grabbing the Stanley knife attached to the side of it to slice open the next.

Even though you've been here at night before, it's different being down the aisles than when you shared food. There's an eerie stillness that hangs in the air under the low lights, punctuated by the occasional creak of the shelving when the two of you stack something. The strong scent of disinfectant is wavering from its assault on your senses, mingling with the musty odour of warehouse cardboard boxes. A smell that worsens, for a moment, each time one of you empties and flattens it.

But, you wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

Finding yourself charmed by the place. Although, you suspect it's by the man beside you. The one who had been prepared to do all of this himself all evening.

“Frankie?” you ask, hearing him hmm. “You ever thought of owning this place? Maybe, making it your own or something?”

Snorting, he shakes his head as his fingers slide to itch at the back of his forearm. “No. Not… Well, I’ve thought about it, obviously. Not owning this place, but…”

“But...?”

Shrugging, mouth open, all but chewing his response as he stacks the shelf and answers with, “Doesn't matter. Wouldn’t be good at it.”

Scoffing, you lift your head, finding him staring. “Sorry, I’ll scoff quieter next time.”

“It's a lot of work. And, it's risky. The place can barely afford me, never mind someone else.”

Shaking his head, you see that look appear—the disbelieving one—catching it flutter across his face. His attempt at making it unreadable fails, as you spot it written all over his expression, practically in bold, italic, and underlined; all very much screaming he very much believes he couldn’t.

Continuing, he shrugs, nostrils flaring under a sigh. “S’not worth thinking about. Got bills. Luca. I… I failed him once, don’t wanna do it again.”

Dropping the contents back into the box, you don't think when you gently lay a hand on his arm, urging him to look. You're just grateful that he does.

Head tilting, trying to find words you swap easily for the truth. “I know I don’t know the version of you from back then, but I really doubt you failed him. You were trying to do the best you could, with what you had.”

His gaze meets yours, a blend of gratitude and uncertainty shimmering in his eyes. “I… just...I want to do right by him now, you know?”

“I know,” you answer softly, giving his arm a comforting squeeze. “And for what it's worth, I think you're doing an amazing job.”

He gives a small, appreciative smile at your words, eyes blinking past you as if trying to process the unexpected validation. Then, when his eyes fall back to you, his smile widens ever so slightly, a gleam of hope seemingly emerging from the shadows of doubt.

“I think you could do something like this.”

Flicking his eyes from yours to your lips, he smiles. “I don’t wanna own this.”

“What do you want then?” Hand sliding back inside the box, pulling out glue—the industrial kind, you imagine—that thankfully is labelled. “Outside of me helping you restock after hours.”

Grinning, he shakes his head. “Haven’t given it much thought.”

Smiling to yourself, turning the labels out, you leave him in silence for a moment. Letting him think, stew. “Not renovating?”

Tipping his head, his eyes meet yours—something twinkling in them. Shimmering. It makes you wonder to yourself if he’s ever been given a chance to think about something that he wants in a while.

“Maybe. I don’t know,” he replies, evidence there of a smile, of something turning, cogs shifting.

“Could get Luca to help—get him a mini tool belt.”

Laughing, he nudges you. “He’d charm them all into giving us free coffee.”

“From the stories you’ve told me, I don’t doubt it.”

It’s then he slides his hand across your back, fingers fanning, spreading warmth through the thin fabric covering your spine. “You still looking forward to meeting him?”

“Only when I don’t overthink it, and worry about the possibility of making the only person who matters in your world cry or something,” you smile, hand gesturing. “Outside of that thought process, very excited.”

Shaking his head, he steps closer, arm sliding around your waist—lips pressing to the top of your head. “Don’t tell him dinosaurs are extinct and you’re good.”

“Noted,” you whisper, staring up at him.

Eyes holding his, lingering. Your throat becomes full with letters, lips rolling as you weigh up whether it’s worth saying them—confessing them.

Instead, you press your mouth to his—hoping he can taste them, and how badly you want to share them.

Did you put that song over your latest Reel for my benefit?

If I did, was it appreciated?

I’m disappointed it’s not the loud-cat-screeching version I gave you in the car, but guess the original would be more well-known.

I want to keep that version, selfishly, to myself.

Just like I want to keep the photo of you with fries in your mouth just for me.

See, we have our things. Thanks for the help putting the Reel together.

I liked being your camerawoman. But next time, could I have a clapboard—maybe one of those chairs that says ‘Director’ on it?

I think I could find something for you to sit on.

Think that movie is something we’d selfishly keep to ourselves.

Be a good movie, though.

[SENDS PHOTO]

Wow, I didn’t even know they did coffees that large.

It was a special request. I told you she’s persuasive.

I wish I wasn’t on my own, otherwise I’d come down and see you both.

You just want her to get you a large coffee. Which I think she would—she likes you.

Rainy, that is the largest coffee I’ve ever seen. I’m glad she does. It matters your friends like me like mine like you.

Yours love me.

I am very aware.

If you’re good, I might drop you one off before I go home.

Have I told you how pretty you are today?

Such a charmer. [SENDS PHOTO]

See I knew you looked pretty.

Waiting, nerves prickling beneath your skin, your fingers interlacing tightly as you flick your eyes from the array of items you've arranged to the still-closed front door.

For the past, so many minutes, you've paced, chewed your cheeks, and endlessly rearranged the items on the table until they blur into a mess of neatness or chaos, you're not quite sure anymore.

Because it matters. Not just to him but to you.

Speaking to Luca (briefly, and on the phone) is so wildly different from meeting him. A thing you're aware of.

It's big. Fucking huge. A thing that you don't take lightly, or ever wish to. Not the permission to meet him, or the fact it's happening. It's why it keeps churning inside of you, bubbling and swimming up your throat; hands wringing out in front of you, thinking over what you'll do when his big eyes draw out the shape of you, standing there, waiting for you, this person who has entered his dad’s life, to say or do something.

You suppose that’s why your fingernail has migrated to scratching at the skin on your index finger, why your stomach is doing somersaults—more so when you hear the sound of Frankie’s vehicle pulling onto his drive.

You’ve got this. You can do this. Just breathe, just breathe, just—

The door finally opens, and there he is. The biggest eyes meet yours, all curious and wide. Even if the shadow of Frankie is behind him, you don’t take your eyes off Luca. Offering a small, reassuring smile, hoping it’ll be enough to show you’re trustworthy as he steps hesitantly into the room.

Not bending over, but crouching down, you let him approach. Watching as Frankie takes his jacket from his son before the soft introduction you've practised over and over again rolls from you—the sweet hello, followed by your name and I’m your dad’s friend.

And you knew it from photos—from the glimpses of the boy in front of you—but he has his eyes. Those soft, expressive eyes twinkle and shimmer at you as he offers his tiny hand for you to shake. One you take happily, with nothing but joy.

“Hey,” you say, voice soft and friendly. “I've heard so much about you.”

He looks at you for a moment longer, taking in your presence. Then, with a shy smile, he mumbles, “Hi.”

Frankie, watching the interaction from the doorway, closes the door, stepping further into the room as he presses his hand to Luca’s shoulder.

"Luca, you remember her from the phone?” He pauses, looking at you for a moment, before finishing, “...the one who struggled to say Aegyptosaurus.”

Narrowing your eyes a little, you smirk playfully at Frankie, the slightest shake of your head as you stare at the boy—warmth spreading through you as Luca begins to grin.

“Speaking of dinosaurs, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to help me with something?” you ask, gaze flicking up to Frankie who gives a supportive nod. “So, I’ve found this colouring book full of dinosaurs inside your Daddy’s coffee table, and I’m not sure what colours to make them.”

Slowly, his face shifts—from a questionable blank one to a slow smile that has the shadow of his dad’s, but breaks into something you assume must be his mom’s.

And god, it’s the most beautiful smile you think you’ve ever seen.

“Sure, I can helps,” Luca says, walking to the coffee table where the book is—before he’s beckoning you, little fingers urging you to come closer.

And you take a breath, a sigh—letting it flow into your lungs, as you reply with a quick ‘coming’ before you glance at the man still giving you both space.

Joining Luca on the floor, you sit cross-legged, the book propped up already on the table as colouring pens, crayons and pencils begin littering the wood not covered by un-coloured pages.

He's eager, flipping through the book, pointing out the different dinosaurs and naming them with an enthusiastic flourish that makes you chuckle. But, when he finds one, he stops. Head tilting from side to side, little finger tapping on the page before he sighs.

“This one!”

Grinning, you take a closer look. “Perfect.”

His smile mirrors yours, before he copies the pitch of your perfect and begins grasping for colours as he hands them to you.

“What’s your favourite dinosaur, Luca?”

Pausing, Luca brings his finger to his lips—dabbing it, scrunching his face before it explodes into a grin so large it almost makes you laugh. “Stegosaurus.”

“Cause of the spikey back?”

Nodding, he grins even wider, doing a little wiggle. “His name means roof lizard, you know that?” Shaking your head, he scrunches his nose as the corner of his lips rises. “And, and it used its back to defend himself.”

“He has a little beak too, right?”

Nodding, Luca begins to scribble his crayon onto the page. "You know him?"

“I’ve been doing my research.”

At Luca’s loud wow, and insistence on you using a colour he doesn’t like—maroon, which looks barely used—you glance towards Frankie, finding him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, fingers lazily tracing up and down the back of his arm, while sporting a soft smile.

Returning your attention to Luca, you spend the next hour engrossed in colouring (a thing you discover you’re doing wrong), dinosaur facts (you’re not sure how he knows so many) and hilarious stories. Finding, with each passing minute, the anxiety sliding from your bones, it falling from you altogether—slipping away, disappearing completely the more Luca interacts.

The two of you only come to a stop when Frankie mentions that it’s almost dinner time, putting the cap on your pen down.

“Hey, Luca. I have to go now. But, I’ve had the best time.”

“You’re not wanting to stay for dinner?” he asks, eyes full of hope as you spot his fist clenched around the pen he’s pressing to the page—the colour bleeding out.

Leaning forward, you smile. “Next time, promise.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Thanks so much for letting me colour with you.”

Getting up, suppressing a groan as your body aches from having to unfold itself from sitting cross-legged, you find Frankie waiting, his expression soft and tender.

“Hi handsome,” you whisper, taking the jacket from his hands.

Frankie leans down, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead—all out of view, just like the two of you had agreed. “You did good,” he tells you quietly. “He likes you.”

Heart swelling at his words, you look back at Luca, who is now animatedly talking to his colouring book, and you find yourself unable to stop smiling.

“I like him too,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

And as you listen to Luca's excited chatter, you realise just how much you mean it.

Think you have a new fan.

Stop, do I really?

Apparently, you’re very pretty, and old like me, and so I should kiss you.

Well, not that I love all of those sentiments, I do like the last one.

Do you want me to call when he’s in bed?

You not sick of me?

Not even a little bit.

I’ll wrap up these amends, shower and then I’m all yours.

The image of you covered in soap suds is going to get me through the next half an hour of this show.

It vibrates softly against the bedsheets, your smile spreading—replacing the earlier irksome client and the nervousness from your afternoon.

“He hasn’t shut up about you.”

No hello. Just a continuation, as if the two of you had only paused from the texting to now. Biting your cheek, you smile, knees pulling up as you feel your Lee scrunch.

“Yeah?”

“Baby, he’s pulled out books to show you the next time you come round.”

Grinning, you sigh. “He’s really great, Frankie. He’s so funny? You never told me how funny he was, and how smart. God, when he—”

And you ramble.

For longer than you’re even aware of as you accidentally go into a play-by-play from this morning—as though the man hadn’t been loitering, standing close by or joining in when Luca’s stories got more outrageous. A standout favourite had been Frankie saving the neighbour's lion from a tree, which had turned out to be a cat called Leon.

“—Also, how does he know so much about dinosaurs? And, fuck—Frankie. Did I just ramble to you about your own son?”

You hear his laugh, real and airy, flow down the phone. “I like it, don’t worry. It’s nice hearing you ramble.”

“You’re a filthy liar.”

With a deep, resonant snort, his sigh of contentment drifts through the phone, making your body, in response, relax. Every muscle slowly uncoils, back sinking further into the plush comfort of the bed beneath you. Ear meeting the pillow as it wrinkles gently under the weight of your head.

“Did it… do you think it went as well as you thought?”

“Better,” he confesses, hearing the breath he releases with it.

Biting your lip, you settle yourself further into your duvet—resting your back against the pillows. “Have I told you today that I really like you?”

“Pretty sure that’s my line.”

Smirking, you rest your tongue between your teeth.

“And, really like? That’s a new one.”

“Well,” you grin, unable to fight a smile, “Felt you deserved the extra word.”

Rolling your head, you trace your teeth over your bottom lip—hearing it, absorbing it, the way he repeats it back. I really like you too. The words find a home, rather than sliding in one ear and out the other. Burying themselves, slotting into a place so perfect as they fit so snugly.

A comfortable beat passes, a moment to linger in it before he asks about your work—about the latest thing you’re working on. Even if you always feel you’ll bore him, he always surprises you by reminding you he won’t be. Engaged, asking questions. Listening and recalling back to things you’ve said before, that you suspect most wouldn’t have paid much mind to.

But, then, he’s not anyone.

“I think I left my hoodie at yours.”

Humming, you hear sheets rustling, before rummaging. “Um, the—yes, yeah you have. I’ll hang it up for you.”

“Only if you have the space too.”

“Well, this is… awkward. I wanted to do it in person—”

Even if there’s no indication to do so, your stomach knots. Tangles. Your heart slams into your chest as your throat, all of a sudden, dries.

“I… fuck, if this is too much tell me, but I’ve made you some space—in my wardrobe. And a drawer. And—”

“And, Frankie? How much space are you giving me?”

Swallowing, you hear him click his tongue. “Well... I mean, as much as you want, baby.”

“Frankie…”

“Have I… Is it too much?”

Pulling your knees up, grinning. Quickly wanting to fire a text to your friend and scream HE’S MADE ME A DRAWER, only stopping yourself because, instead, you, all high-pitched and squeaky ask if you can swap to video. Fingers trembling, your face filling the screen before you can eventually push it to the corner when his greets yours.

“You’re so sweet, thank you—it isn’t too much. Not even a little bit. I want—if you want—to give you the same.”

Laughing lowly, you watch him slide back into bed—the freckles on his collarbone illuminated by the bedside lamp. “Baby, you have half my tools at your house—you’ve made plenty of room for me.”

“Yeah, that toolbox is a health hazard—it is very heavy.”

“I’ll make sure to move it next time”

Scrunching your nose. “Oh no, I moved it. Managed to find some strength from somewhere to do so. That’s my workout for the week.”

Shaking his head, you watch him get into bed—arm resting above his head, fingers teasing at his curls as he smiles at you—eyes somehow just as bright even in low light as he begins telling you about his day tomorrow.

You watch, noticing the little lift of his lips when he talks about Benny, when he mentions taking Luca to training—which in turn (he explains) means Luca bosses them around and they all have to listen. Then after they’ll go on a boys’ lunch, where ice cream is usually consumed, the tradition having started when Luca was teething.

“Send me a photo—post-training.”

His tongue slides into his cheek, eyebrow lifting as he stares at you.

“Dripping in sweat do it for you, Rainy?”

“I’m not rewatching your Reels because I want to use a circle-saw, Frankie. Plus, you look so good in sweats—that black pair. Fuck.”

Chuckling to himself, he runs his hand over his face—and you imagine his cheeks are warm, that if the lighting were better, you’d see the beginning of his pink embarrassment crawling up his neck.

Yawning and stretching, you reach for your charger, plugging it in before moving to lie on your side, hearing him ask—as soft, and as sleepily, as he would if you were next to him—you comfy, baby? as your heart does a little flicker as you rest the phone against the pillow.

“Very,” you assure him, pulling the duvet closer around you. “Be more comfy if you were here.”

“Would you, though?”

Hesitating, you hum—hearing the lightest laugh come from him. “You’re very warm—like a furnace. I like it.”

“That all I’m good for, warming your bed?”

Smirking, your eyes heavy, you sigh. “You have some other uses.”

“I’m glad I’m useful.”

Settling further into the bed, hearing him shuffle and rustle from his end, you clear your throat to ask, “Do you think you'd rather have a pineapple for a head or a watermelon?”

Even with your eyes struggling to stay open, you sneak a glance to see his grin break out. “I'd love to live in your head.”

“You sure about that?”

Snorting, he shakes his head, fingers pushing the hair back from his forehead. “Pineapple. Sweeter for you to kiss.”

“You're so thoughtful.”

Giggling, you find a response sitting on your tongue, it just not able to form as you hum again—finding yourself so comfortable and warm under the sheets you’re barely able to hang onto his voice until he whispers ‘baby’. A little noise coming from you that in your head is clearly words, but not to anyone else.

Only realising it isn’t when he says your name. Calls it.

“Frankie…”

“Baby, why don’t we hang—“

“No,” you groan, the O sound stretching out—hardly with any intent. More said with tenderness and pouting than anything as you hear him chuckle. “I’ll wake up.”

“No, don’t… don’t do that. I’ll stay—listen to you snore.”

Flicking your eyes open, glaring at the screen. “I do not snore.”

Chuckling, his voice wraps around you like a warm blanket. “Sure, baby. You just keep telling yourself that.”

“Francisco!”

His laugh roars down the phone, making your cheeks hurt from smiling, shaking your head against the pillow as his laugh turns to an ‘aww’.

“Do you know how pretty you look right now?”

“You can barely see me, Morales. Stop trying to flatter me.”

Somehow, his laugh is even louder than it was before. And somehow, your smile is larger too.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #pedrostories #jo: dmy #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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lbxbx · 2 days

Text

Blackmail 4 | Kth

Pairing: Idol!taehyung x reader

Genre: smut, angst. Five shot

Synopsis: being part of their staff meant you had to be around them all the time, Taehyung has a checklist of all the girls he slept with and filmed and you were next on the list, as he lures you using several ways one of them being actually showing you the content he films, before you finally give in and he actually films you to tick you off of his list. Little do you know it’s the biggest mistake ever.

Disclaimer: events and incidents in this fiction are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. This does not resemble Taehyung’s character whatsoever. taglist: @idkduewhy @wiebouquetbarbarian @tan-veee @pookiej @xstfudaisyx @junecat18 @whipwhops @mother2onsters @lil0u0 @whoa-jo @latinapoetbts

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“Come on in.” He tilts his head inviting you on the inside, you’re a little taken back when you see a full handbag stuffed with cameras and Go-pros, microphones and even spare batteries and chargers. “I didn’t know you took things that seriously.” You force a laugh and take a step inside, you approach the bag and reach your hand for one of the Go-pros. “How many of those do you have?”

“In this handbag around seven, in total about 10 or twelve, I lost count.” He laughs, opening up the mini bar and grabbing out a bottle of sparkling water to hand it to you, “So what are you wearing for me tonight?”

You grab the water bottle and avoid his eyes, you can’t look at him anymore and you know everything changed for the worse. To you he’s this manipulative sex addict who either needs to be helped or put in jail. Things can never go back to normal with him.

“Oh, don’t get too excited, they’re just matching bra and panties.” You put the Go-pro down and unscrew the cap of your water. “Can you show me how this goes?”

“Sure, come here.” He sits in front of his iPad and grabs you a chair next to him, you hesitate before sitting down and watching what he does on his device, “I would’ve showed you how exactly I edit things, but our night with Jungkook wasn’t filmed like at all. I think I have something else unedited I’ll show it to you.”

You got lucky this time, even we you’re about to be filmed with your consent, but at least this time you were trying to get your revenge somehow.

And in seconds he digs out a couple of files that are titled to the date back when you were in the states weeks ago, it makes you think, he has several partners at once? He fucked you raw after he fucked someone else?

“Taehyung is this new?”

“Yeah, it’s back in LA, she was a local we met in a pool party—“

“How can you know that you’re fucking people who are safe?” You’re genuinely worried, for all you know you could be carrying a certain disease right now and you still haven’t showed any symptoms.

“Oh unclench. I know what I’m doing.” He scoffs and turns towards his phone that’s buzzing when someone calls him. “I have to take this, be right back.” He pulls his chair back and gets into the bathroom locking the door behind him.

You hurriedly grab your phone out and take pictures of the handbag that’s stuffed to the brim with cameras, you snap other pictures of the memory cards and the iPad screen, making sure to be quick before he leaves the bathroom.

You flip through the folders on his iPad to finally find the video from back when you two were in London, the video is freaking 38 minutes and you have to be fast.

Okay Y/N you have to be quick, we’re totally skipping the parts he was being all lovey dovey and try and find the parts where he was cuffing you or blindfolding you, it’s not long after the beginning and you film that on your phone, skipping again to reach the parts where he forced you on things and used the belt, the parts where he spanked you with it, you look around the frame hoping you’d find anything to make the video go faster but there isn’t anything. You hear the bathroom door unlocking fast enough for you to exit the video and fall back onto your chair and hold your breath. Your hands locking your phone from under the coffee table.

He looks at you suspiciously for a second, squinting his eyes, before he comes in closer to lock the iPad and get back into the bathroom to finish his call. Your hand sits on your chest when you feel your heart racing, you’re convinced you have enough evidence now and you can’t risk being caught anymore.

You encourage yourself on the inside that it’s just one last time, one last night with him before you try and get everything you want before proceeding with your plan.

He finally exits the bathroom and puts his phone down. “I need to be somewhere in an hour, you think you can be quick?”

“We can cancel tonight if you want to—“

“No.” And he doesn’t ever offer further explanation, he takes his shirt off and inches closer to you to put his hands on your hips. “You know I have to confess something.”

“What? Did you film me again?” You can hardly trust him anymore. Your hands barely sit on his chest and honestly Taehyung was really smart when it came to your body language, he can easily feel that you’re uncomfortable and you’re trying to keep distance between your bodies. The way your hands move abruptly before finally landing on his chest makes him look you in the eyes for a second without saying a single word.

“What?” You clear your throat, you can feel your own heartbeat in your ears, your fight or flight is on standby for anything that may happen any second. “A—are you… is everything okay?”

He looks around the room trying to locate your phone, it’s in your back pocket but he doesn’t see it. “Where’s your phone?”

“What?”

“Where’s your phone? Unlock it for me.” He pulls back and heads back to his station near his iPad looking around the table and almost spilling his drink from earlier on his gadgets. “It’s in my bag, what’s wrong?”

“Are you recording anything? Did you film anything? Take it out right now.” He claps his hands when he gives the order, his voice getting louder by the second.

If you answer him no he might ask you to unlock your phone, and if you say yes he’ll make you delete it. Both answers could lead to him actually hurting you. You need to lure him into calming down and forgetting about this. “Of course I didn’t, we’re filming this on your own cameras remember?” You walk towards him and help him unbuckle the belt around his hips. “Come on, why are you so tense tonight?”

He looks down to your hands and watches you unbuckle him. It didn’t hit you until now, but when you slept with him he past couple of times he smelled good, and tonight he’s probably wearing the same cologne but you cannot stand how he smells. What happened earlier in the studio scratched you on the inside and again, he looks so different to you right now.

He wraps his arms around your body and pulls you in closer, slowly calming down from his previous agitation, and any man’s touch can easily make you melt at this point specially when his hands are already groping your ass right now, but you don’t feel anything, your body isn’t even acting upon his kisses that are pressed onto your shoulder. “Maybe you can help me relax, yeah?”

“Mhm.” You could throw up any second right now.

Women are supposed to feel wanted and desired on nights like these, but right now you felt like a sex toy that belonged to him that he could easily use and just throw it away whenever he’s done. It hurts you on the inside.

You gulp repeatedly when you insert your hand into his pants to palm his soft dick that’s slowly hardening in your hand, he buries his face into your neck to kiss you there, his breath usually sends shivers down your spine but you can’t feel anything, and if only he could see your face right now; you’re cringing and fighting back your true grossed out feelings.

“Hold on.” He pulls back and grabs one of the nearby Go-pros, and tonight he’s sober enough to remember to press record and he double checks and looks around to watch the red light turned on, after that he flips the tiny camera to film your faces and he pulls you in to kiss you.

Again, yours or any other girl’s body is truly familiar to him, and he can easily tell that you’re comfortable, but he shrugs it off thinking you’re probably “Camera shy.”

“Let’s go to bed, come on.” He pulls back and guides you towards the bed to sit, positioning the camera down on the night stand and again, double checks that it’s filming and that you’re in frame, before he leans in to kiss you on the lips once and takes your top off to reveal one of the most familiar bras to him. “Let me take it off for you.” He’s clearly not asking your permission he’s just stating what he’s about to do, and he does. Taking it off and throwing it across the room.

You hug your arms towards your chest which makes him smirk. “Look at my little slut pretending to be all shy and cute” And you are genuinely offended. You’re really seconds away from stabbing him with anything near you and easily commit a crime.

“Lay back for me.” And you do, leaning your back against the bed with tears building in your eyes. You can’t cry right now, you even remind yourself that this is the last time you’re going to have to do this, and by tomorrow your plan of getting revenge should be complete.

You stare at the ceiling when you feel his fingers working on the zipper of your jeans and pull it down, you don’t even bother looking down at him because you’re trying hard to minimize having your face in the frame.

You’re having second thoughts by now, and you just wish you drugged him or sedated him just to be able to delete all the content he has of you, you wish you just hit him in the head hard enough for him to lose his memory or something. Every scenario is in your head right now but none of them would’ve been possible.

He grips onto your panties and pulls them down before spreading your legs apart, his mouth coming in contact with your cunt and for the first time ever, this doesn’t even feel half good, in fact, you feel nothing at all.

“Mmm.” You force it out and throw your head further back into the mattress, you have to sound believable and you have to convince him that you’re enjoying this half as much as he is. “Fuck.” You roll your eyes to yourself, you don’t sound convincing at all.

Him on the other side, his cock is in his hand stroking it while savoring your cunt, and if he wasn’t so focused on pleasuring himself, he would’ve noticed that you weren’t wet at all, it’s his third time eating you out and unlike other times, you’re not clenching and your breath is still regular really.

The only thing similar is how fast your heart is pounding, last time it was beating fast from the pleasure, but right now it’s beating even faster in fear, anxiety and grief at your own self worth that you highly doubt there’s anything left from that.

He licks his own fingers before inserting them inside you and it burns, you wish you didn’t feel anything like second ago, but right now it hurts, and at the sudden stretch you gasp and shut your legs, making him forcefully open them back up, he probably thinks you’re enjoying it but he’s self absorbed enough to not realize that.

You have to stop him.

“I’m gonna cum.” And this is the only way. The stretch of his stupid fingers hurt you enough, you’re worried at the actual thought of him fucking you, it’s going to kill you.

He’s in a total different world. His hand stops stroking his cock to focus on fucking you with his fingers, and he envelopes your cunt into his mouth, sucking onto your clit and flicking it with his tongue. Again, if he did this any other night the neighbors would’ve probably heard you.

“Fuck.” You close your legs and cover your own cunt and start breathing fast, giving him the illusion of actually cumming when you’re not, “That’s it cum for me.” He nibbles onto your thighs and doesn’t even stop, continuing to fuck you through your “Orgasm.”

“Stop, you’re going to make me sore already.” Your voice is shaky because you’re about to cry your eyes out. He pulls back finally and climbs up towards you. “Come on baby, ride my dick and make me cum, we have to be quick.”

“Mhm.” You push him to land onto the bed and grab the Go-pro, you can call yourself pity but you had to do it eventually. You point the Go-pro to his face and wrap your fingers around his neck before positioning yourself on top of him. “You want me to ride you huh?”

“Mmhm.” He runs his hands onto your thighs, he’s more than thrilled to see you film him and he even thinks you two are on the same page now, he thinks that this is your kink too and that you’re having fun.

“Did any of the girls make you beg before?” You whisper, looking into the camera and making sure he’s in the frame. “Are you gonna make me beg?”

“It’s the least you can do.” You smirk, your eyes focused on the camera as an excuse to avoid his eyes, but his are locked onto you. “I don’t beg.”

You gather enough courage to slap him on the face before tightening your grip around his neck. “I said beg.” Your chest is heaving and your heartbeat is in your ears, you made an excuse just to hit him in the face and it’s working.

“I’m not begging.” He bites onto his lips and his dark eyes stare onto yours. He clearly enjoyed this and likes being slapped in the face, so you do it again, this time stronger than before and doing it twice. “Then you’re not getting any pussy.” And you’re actually about to get up but he pulls you back down. “No no, please, please ride my dick.” It’s totally half assed but you truly don’t care.

You position yourself right on top of him and willingly point the head of his cock to your cunt but he points it towards your puckered hole last minute and helps you land down.

You feel him up in your back and your body stiffens at the painful stretch, you’re not wet enough and his precum wasn’t enough to let him slide easily inside you. “Get the lube from behind you.” And you stretch behind you to get it, letting him handle it and squirt some onto his cock, and some into his hand to rub your hole and help you land again. “Shit.” You focus again and point the camera to his face.

“Tell me Taehyung, out of all girls you fucked from work, is this the best ass you’ve ever fucked?” You ask, and he throws his head back in pleasure, the tightness around his cock is unbelievable. “Fuck.”

“Answer me.” You deliver another slap to his face, slowly lifting your hip up to land back down, “Y-yes, shit.” For the first time ever you see him this weak, and god is good.

You can’t deny with the lube and the stretch, it’s doing something to your body but still not enough to get you to your end, your hand tightens around the camera and the other one is still wrapped around his neck, tightening more with each time you bounce on his dick, “I’m one of your girls Taehyung now huh?”

“Fuck yes.” He grits onto his own teeth, he has enough discipline to not pound into you and actually makes you take control for the rest of your fuck. “You’re one of the best baby.” He admits, and that’s all you need to get on camera, you finally turn it off and put both your hands on his torso for support to ride him faster, his grip tightens around your thighs and his fingernails dig into your skin, his jaw slowly dropping down and his eyelids getting heavier. “Do you wanna cum?” You ask.

“Please make me cum.” And frankly Taehyung has never experienced anything like this, it’s usually him who takes control and he’s in charge for all the hitting and spanking. Tonight he thinks he’s having a different flavor and he likes it, but in fact this has been your plan that you came up within a short span of time.

It’s taking him so long to cum and at this point your calves burn and your ass hurts, you’re not interested to actually cum but still you’re putting in the effort for a man who doesn’t even deserve to be with a woman.

You pull back and point his cock up towards him to stroke it fast enough to make him cum on his own body, you already can’t stand anything from this man so again, totally not worth soiling yourself.

“Fuck, stop—“ He whimpers, pulling on his own hair when you don’t stop stroking him, “It hurts, please stop.” And you finally stop and get out of bed to collect your clothes and put them on. And as usual, he gets up and makes his way towards the bathroom and you hear the shower water running.

Come on Y/N, be quick.

“How many of those do you have?”

“In this handbag around seven, in total about 10 or twelve, I lost count.”

You dig into his handbag and pick up one of the Go-pros, and switch it with the one you used earlier before hiding it in your purse, quickly putting on your clothes and leaving the place.

You call a taxi to your apartment and quickly pull out your iPad. You switched your phone off worried that he’ll actually find out about the missing camera and call you, totally didn’t cross your mind that if he found out he could actually come by to take it.

You work faster than ever to transfer the video to your iPad, cutting the beginning when he forced you into the kiss, and leaving in the part that you wanted.

“Tell me Taehyung, out of all girls you fucked from work, is this the best ass you’ve ever fucked?”

“Y-yes, shit.”

“I’m one of your girls Taehyung now huh?”

“You’re one of the best baby.”

He wants to blackmail you? He can go ahead.

You’re easily going to lose your job and you may actually not end up hired any place else. But him? He has a whole career, a fandom, and an image to lose, and he can do nothing to cover it up if you actually do end up posting the video online.

You would easily be fired but him? He’ll have to go through lawsuits and actual things that can easily take him down. Of course once they found out that he’s been with other women and he blackmailed them, he could possibly go to jail too.

You delete the video from the Go-pro and turn it off, making sure you already have the videos and the pictures you took earlier on your iPad and phone. You’re ready for anything. If he does it, you’ll do it too.

The next couple of days were just like any other day, they had a birthday party to go to and you had to be there to have them ready, and luckily it was only Jungkook and Jimin going, and one of your friends was out of town so you had to fill in for her.

And you’d be lying if you say things weren’t awkward with Jungkook in the beginning, but he’s a total sweetheart and even after what happened that night, he suddenly appreciates you more and one hour in and he’s joking and making you laugh and you’re just having fun.

What you currently have with Jungkook is truly healthy. You two slept together once and he never brought it up again nor made you feel awkward about it

“You’re done.” Jimin finally gets up and leaves the room along with his stylist, leaving you and Jungkook alone in the room, and the atmosphere turns upside down and you two steal glances from each other awkwardly, you keep trying to pretend to be occupied and focused, but his lips are twitching and he wants to say something. Someone has to address the elephant in the room.

“So, how are you?” He genuinely asks, if it was Taehyung asking you’d know exactly what he’s trying to do, but Jungkook asks because he’s interested in finding out how you’re actually doing.

“I’m good haven’t slept well last night that’s all.” You gave him a vague answer, he rolls his eyes. “Come on Y/N, you know exactly what I mean.”

“Not really.” You dig into the makeup bag trying to find one of the brushes, he sighs and turns his head fully towards you. “I heard from him that you two slept together again.”

“O-oh. He told you?”

“And he told me other things, I hope you’re hanging in there.” With his doe eyes he tilts his head full with sympathy, it seems that he knows about the entire story. “Can’t you help?” It’s the first thing that came up to your mind and he shrugs. “I tried, this isn’t your problem, it’s his problem too, he just… I think he needs help.” He scratches his eyebrow.

“I need help too.” You put your hand onto your chest. “What exactly did he tell you?”

“I know he filmed you, and I know he’s blackmailing you, which believe me, I find it truly immoral.” He lowers his voice.

“There isn’t anything moral about the whole thing to begin with Jungkook, blackmailing can’t be moral in any way.”

“He could’ve asked respectfully—“

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Yeah, oh hey Y/N, please sleep with me? No? can I please blackmail you?” You mock Taehyung’s voice which makes Jungkook scrunch his nose and laugh. “Touché.”

“I don’t want to hurt him Jungkook, but I have things that could possibly ruin his entire career, tell him that, and let know that if he ever tries to blackmail me into anything, he’ll regret it.”

“I’m so sorry Y/N.” He sighs apologetically, “I have to stay out of this, I really want to help you but risking his career means risking my career too, and he’s my best friend. If you were going through this with someone else believe me I would’ve sent them to jail, but I can’t hurt him. So I’m sorry, but you’re on your own and I wish you luck.”

It’s mixed feelings really, he’s partially right, but he can’t help his best friend be a total douche and just stay quiet. “No hard feelings?” He reaches his hand out to shake yours. “I don’t want things to get awkward ever again between us, we’re coworkers and friends and we’re around each other the entire time.”

“No hard feelings.” You shake his hand.

The first weekend after going back to work always tasted different, you finally have enough time to catch onto some sleep and rot onto your couch in your place binge watching a series or something on your TV before falling asleep any time you want.

You would usually go out with your friends but tonight you’re feeling tired and a little rusty so you chose to stay home.

On the other hand Taehyung still didn’t find out about his missing camera, he collected them that night and put them into his hand bag, and when he drove home he was going to actually edit the video, but he got too lazy to actually open all twelve of the cameras to find the content you filmed earlier that night.

He shrugged it off and called it a night, and since then he’s been busy with his schedule and he haven’t had the time to edit anything, he’s been working so hard this week and on this Friday night, he felt like he needed to reward himself.

And he’s rotten spoiled, thinking he can have everything in a single phone call, so he picks up his phone and shuffles through his contacts until he finds Mira’s number and he calls her asking her to spend the night with him, but she’s out of town visiting her parents so he can’t pressure her on situations like these.

He scrolls again and spots your name, before he calls, it takes him a couple of minutes to think, he’s been spending more nights with you to the point where he feels like he needs the change, he has never liked “Leftovers” So he scrolls further down and calls other girls, all of them are suddenly out of town or sick.

He rolls his eyes and scrolls back to your name and calls you with no hesitation this time.

You had fallen asleep on your couch with your phone in your hand, and your entire body flinches when it starts ringing in your hand. Your heart is racing when you can predict the purpose of this call, and it’s two possibilities really.

One, he wants his camera back and he found out that you had switched them that night.

Two, he didn’t find out, and he just wants to spend the night with you because why else would he call you on a Friday night? Little do you know that you were his last choice.

“Hello?” You answer, he can tell that you’re sleeping.

“Y/N, it’s a Friday night, are you sleeping already?”

“Yeah, I’m really tired, everything okay?” You’re asking not because you care about him personally, you’re just testing waters trying to see if it’s the first possibility or the second one.

“I’m tired too, do you think you can come over? Maybe we can comfort each other, I could help you relax…” You’re a little relieved it’s not about the cameras. “… and you could help me relax too.”

“No Taehyung, I’m really tired and I have to go to bed.”

“Come on Y/N, you don’t want me to—“

And you interrupt right away. “You don’t wanna do this, I’m respectfully saying no and none of this can happen again.”

“Y/N honey, this isn’t your choice to begin with, you’re one of my girls now, remember?” You cannot believe him. You close your eyes and sigh. “I’m out of town Tae, I’m visiting a relative on the outskirts.”

“Oh are you?” He suspects you’re lying, he chuckles and continues. “You know I can easily find out your location Y/N, and if you’re lying, then I guess..”

You look into your phone screen and immediately record the call. “Tell me, Taehyung, what are you gonna do?”

“I can come over if you want, I can meet that relative of yours, and maybe we can go out and find a place to enjoy our evening together.” He whispers the last part.

“No.” You simply answer. “I’m over with this Taehyung, I’m not sleeping with you ever again.”

“Alright Y/N, you can just kiss your job goodbye, and if I were you, I wouldn’t bother coming to work Monday morning. Good night.”

You shut your eyes tightly. “Taehyung wait.” You’re seconds away from begging him again.

The call is still ongoing but he doesn’t answer. “Taehyung?” and the ill guy psychotically laughs and answers. “I knew you’d change your mind.”

“I’m really out of town, if I were there I’d come over, but I’m not.” You try your best to convince him but you don’t sound convincing at all. “Just please, I can’t do anything for you right now, I’ll see you on Monday or something.”

“Don’t bother, good night.” And this time he hangs up for real, you feel yourself seconds away from actually going unconscious.

That’s it, you lost your job, you lost everything you worked hard to build through these few years, your thoughts are rushing in your head, you’ve reached a dead end.

You’re not going to sleep with him ever again and that’s it, you can’t change your mind.

If he chose to actually post your video or show it to anyone then your job and your reputation are long gone.

And if you chose to post if before he does, you’ll lose your job anyway, but at least you could hurt him just like he did and perhaps end his career, you need to show the world his true colors.

You grow weaker by the second, balling your eyes out and realizing that none of this can actually be fixed, you’re seconds away from changing your mind and just getting ready to go to his place, you would probably be able to save your job but not your dignity and self worth though.

This can’t go on, it can’t happen, this has to be a nightmare.

The five stages of grief were quite obvious on your behavior, when Monday came by you were in denial, totally denying the fact that he will do anything or take things seriously, you kept thinking that oh, he’s probably just doing that the pressure you into saying yes and going to his place, he’s not a bad person, he just lost control on his own behaviors to the point where he had to blackmail you. You spent your entire day trying to make up excuses on why he had to behave this way.

Because if he truly wanted to post the videos you would’ve known from the beginning of the day, but everything went completely normal.

And on Tuesday you woke up living the second stage of grief, you were fuming angry, your fingertips are on fire and you were quite agitated the entire day, he mentioned things again and this time you could swear he was seconds away from giving out everything to the public. You ended up taking so many breaks that day just to avoid yelling in his face or even physically attacking him, the way he looked at you made you feel like you were an item he could use whenever he wanted which drove you mad.

The way he breathed around you loudly all huffing and scoffing made you count to ten before doing anything or saying any word.

The way his language changes when he’s around you, talking to you like you’re only existing for sex and just to please him, treating you like an empty creature who was just created to be fucked and thrown away, he made you feel cheap.

The way his fingers move trying to “tease” you, thinking that this would probably get you in the mood to do anything with him, the way his palm caressed your cheeks whenever he turned his face towards you, the way his fingertips would run down your neck while you were working on the face that you wish you can just deform.

You can hear your heartbeat into your ears and you were constantly breathless, if feels like you’re running miles. You despise Kim Taehyung.

On Wednesday you projected the third stage of grief, bargaining. You showed up to work extremely tired from the anger issues you went home with the day before, your mind was all over the place, the crew would call you to be at a certain place and you’re just not focused, you’re barely working on the face in front of you and luckily it’s not him.

Seokjin had a shooting and you were there to cover up for your friend Leah who suddenly couldn’t show up, she’s saying that she caught a cold but you swear you saw her going home the night before with Taehyung and here you start to actually bargain.

Well at least he’s seeing someone else, you have Leah and other girls that could easily cover up for you, and what if you actually got exposed? You’re not in this alone, at least you can go home back to your family and live a normal life without having to go through any of this again.

But do you really want the normal life back?

Which brings us to Thursday, you’re clearly depressed and the fourth stage of grief is visible on your face and even on your work attire. You showed up in sweatpants and a button up, you haven’t showered this morning and your hair was messily put in a ponytail, your eyes are loose and you can barely answer people around you.

You kept sighing and you were clearly in your own world. Your life is going to be over anytime soon, the dream you’re in right now is about to be robbed away from you and you’re about to wake up, it’s going to be the end of you.

Not that you were unhappy back then, but you like your life a whole lot better now, you get to travel, show up to parties, events and hell even meet people you thought you’d never meet, it’s a brand new world that you never dreamt of, and it’s about to be taken away from you.

You sulk back into your chair and close your eyes, totally not in the mood to work or see anyone.

On Friday, you were brushing your teeth when it suddenly hit you. You went through the previous stages of grief and there’s only stage left that you find it hard to swallow.

Acceptance.

Acceptance? Do you think you’ll ever be there?

Do you think you’ll be able to just accept the fact that someone with issues is going to blackmail you and take your dream away from you just because he needs… Sex?

Do you think you’ll accept to be “one of his girls.” And just give away your principles?

Girl fuck the principles, if you have to save your career just do it. Are you really thinking that right now?

You rinse and get ready for work, as much as you liked Fridays, but you hate them and fear them now; it’s the weekends and people usually go out and in Taehyung’s case, he scrolls through his contact list trying to find his hookup for the night.

It makes you think that does he really not have a life? His coworkers are a blast to be around and they’re really fun and entertaining, he could just spend the night with them or even go visit his other friends or family, but no it has become a ritual for him.

Every Friday night if he has nothing specifically planned, he’ll end up scrolling through his contact list and seeing who he feels like fucking that night, whether it was girls from the company or even someone he randomly hooked up with before, or even foreigners.

And frankly his contact list has over two hundred different women that he sometimes forgets what they look like, and thank god for the content he made, it has helped him several times when it comes to remembering their faces and bodies, and what they did and how they did.

You get into your workplace and today there’s nothing planned on the schedule and they’re not filming anything, they had a meeting with a modeling agency and you had to be there to sculpt his face and mask the true Taehyung away from them quite literally.

“How are you?” He crosses his arms and throws his head back closing his eyes and giving you the space to work. “Good.” And it’s more than enough of an answer.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” He asks.

“Yes.” Your answers clearly mean that you’re not willing to talk but he still insists on talking.

“You know, Y/N, I’m being so forgiving with you right now, you know I can easily post your videos…” He starts talking and that’s when it hits you.

Acceptance. It’s finally here.

Honestly Taehyung is full of shit, you’ve lost count to the times he actually threatened you and yet he still doesn’t post anything, you’re just going to have to accept the fact that he is in fact, full of shit.

He’s still mumbling but you’re not listening.

“Whatever, you can do whatever you want.” You shrug carelessly still focused on his face. Maybe acting careless will get him to think that it doesn’t matter to you and that you’re not scared.

But deep down you actually still shit your pants whenever this is mentioned.

“Yeah, I know, and I want us to hookup tonight.” He knows exactly what you mean but he decides to play his own games. “Cancel with your friends, you’re not going.”

Isn’t this new? Your jaw almost drops down, you can’t believe this man. “Excuse me?”

He turns to face you with fire behind his eyes and he clearly speaks. “Cancel with your friends. You are not going.”

“Sure.” You sarcastically answer and put your brush down. “Get up, I’ll call over one of the girls to finish your face.” You couldn’t handle things anymore.

The day passed by better when you can no longer see him, and you didn’t lie when you told him that you have things planned for tonight, you were supposed to go out with your girl friends to celebrate a birthday in a club that was five blocks away from your place, so you went home and changed into a dress and went out to spend your night drinking and dancing.

It has been so long since you actually got the chance to meet up with them and you don’t remember the last time you went to a club, so you enjoyed your night way more than you should have and probably exaggerated and totally lost counts of the drinks you had.

They insisted to walk you home but you immediately said no, you needed to walk and perhaps sweat away the alcohol, even when you could barely balance on your own legs nevertheless in heels, but you still made it to your place, you rub your eyes before trying to click the pass code onto the door and right before you put the last number you turn your head.

He’s right here behind you, only a couple of steps away with his hands in his pockets and a cap on his head. He shows you a toothy smile before asking. “How was your night?”

“Ugh, Taehyung, I’m about to throw up you don’t want to be near me.” You put your hand up in the air and turn back to your door. Something tells you to not open the door yet until he leaves, so you turn towards him. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Let me in, we could probably chat and catch up, I miss you.” He feigns whatever this is and takes the couple of steps towards you, cupping your cheek and taking a whiff. “Tequila, I smell something else but I can’t tell what it is, but you’re drunk huh?”

“Yeah, and this is exactly why you shouldn’t take advantage of me.” You press your hand onto his chest trying to push him away but he’s stronger than you are when you’re sober, but when you’re drunk? He could easily take you down and you wouldn’t be able to lift up a finger.

“Taehyung, I’m not joking, I’ll probably throw up on you if you stay close.” You’re not lying, but this doesn’t stop him. Everything progressed too fast and now suddenly his hands are climbing up under your dress and groping onto your ass, his other hand wrapping around your body to pull you in closer to his before sandwiching you against your own door, his lips moving too fast towards your neck and not thinking twice before kissing you everywhere.

“Taehyung, stop, please.” You sound alarmed and scared, your hands are still working to push him away but it barely does anything. His right hand gets under your panties and lands onto your clit to rub you aggressively, and it hurts.

“Stop!” You’re loud enough and the neighbors probably heard you. “Please, get away from me, don’t touch me.” You clench your fists and start hitting his chest hoping that he’d pull back but he doesn’t and it’s slowly killing you. You’re feeling light headed and you know what’s coming up next.

Your legs can barely balance onto the floor and you’re swallowing repeatedly, you’re going to.. “I’m gonna throw up.” Exactly. You announce and he pulls back a second late, you’ve already puked the drinks from tonight onto the sleeve of his sweatshirt, you’re coughing and holding your hair back while throwing up whatever is left into your stomach.

Taehyung being the gentleman he is, doesn’t even offer help or anything, you could easily go unconscious but what matters the most right now is his expensive sweatshirt that’s spoiled. A grossed out frown wears on his face and he covers his mouth with the back of his hand. “You crazy bitch, I’ll fucking show you.”

And he turns to leave the building and you hear him mutter on his way out. “I’ll fucking show you, I’ll teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.”

Whoa, the world is spinning around you, aren’t you supposed to feel better after you throw up? You unlock your door finally and throw off your heels before plopping down onto your couch and grabbing out your phone.

“You’ll teach me a valuable lesson, Kim Taehyung? In your fucking dreams.”

You go into your media and select the recorded call, the pictures you have taken of his handbag stuffed with Go-pros, the video from back in London specifically the parts where he used the belt and hand cuffed you, and the video you filmed the other night specifically when he told you that you’re one of his girls.

Before finally pressing the share button.

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