#chapter 1 is out and ready to be consumed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

citrustan · 7 months

Text

for what it's worth [3/4] (jjk)

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: angst, fluff, light smut, college student!reader x crush!jungkook

summary: you make an awful revelation about your crush of two years.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: some bitchiness (or like justice? idk it's up to you really)

note: yes. there is a chapter 4 because i'm not ready to let go of this just yet. and a thank you.

1 - 2 - 3 - 4

Two weeks passed by and you and Jia pretended as if absolutely nothing happened. It was simply the quiet before the storm.

Your days seemed to blend into nights, you felt yourself slipping into a bad place mentally. Always feeling distant and fatigued.

The emotional turmoil of having your trust broken and your privacy invaded caused you to miss out on much needed sleep.

While on the outside, everything seemed pretty much the usual except for a few painfully obvious differences.

You had stopped (publicly) obsessing over Jungkook, and it initially invited a lot of concern from Yoongi and Namjoon. But they didn’t push you too much when you blatantly ignored their questions about him. You also avoided Jia as much as you could. She didn’t seem to have noticed.

Despite your crush on Jungkook, you had come to accept the boundaries of your non-friendship with him and the fact that he was deeply committed to Jia.

You had no intention of causing any harm to their relationship, as you had already shared your support with Jungkook for their secret.

It was difficult to not think of them. It often made you break into tears of anger and frustration. You had to mourn your loss.

Every night, thoughts of Jungkook would continue to consume you. You’d still imagine him to be yours. Images of him smiling at you and his voice calling you cute would linger in your mind.

It’s just pretend. There’s no harm in it.

You knew that Jia had described you as a ‘creep’ to Jungkook, but the label bothered you. You were not a creep, and you wanted to understand why Jia had portrayed you that way. No matter what you came up with in your head, nothing was a good enough reason to call you such a gross name. Sure, she hadn’t revealed to Jungkook your identity but that baffled you more.

Also, had Jungkook never wondered about this ‘creep’?

Too many things kept you up at night and you couldn’t stand being on the other side of the truth. You could no longer afford to let these things bother you. You were too fucking old for this shit.

With the final week before your course evaluations being right around the corner, you had subconsciously come to some harsh unanimous decisions. They weren’t impulsive or unreasonable. You really had thought this through. These decisions may be a risky, or bitchy, or just as sneaky as Jia was, but they’d still be within reason.

He needed to know the truth about you, Jia, and what she told him.

You wanted to tell Jia that you knew about them. It probably wasn’t going to come out of Jungkook, so it had to be you.

Why must you continue to suffer?

You didn’t want to wait around and anticipate Jia’s next move.

You’re not the type of person who sits around and ignores things like these. You had held it in for a while now.

You understood that your actions would have consequences and you were more than ready to face them. You hoped.

While you pretended nothing ever happened, Jia and you saw way less of each other.

You could count the times you interacted, or even passed by, or saw each other over the weeks on one hand.

Still, every time you’d think about your interaction with Jungkook, you were reminded of Jia too. Him and Jia. You couldn't help but notice his annoyingly deep feelings for Jia. He was so… considerate of her. It probably is just the bare minimum but it doesn’t matter. You could tell he was a great boyfriend to her. No wonder she kept him hidden.

Sometimes, it felt so wrong and scandalous to fantasize about the man. Maybe it even is so. But you weren’t just infatuated with Jungkook. You really liked him. Emotions like these don’t disappear overnight.

You longed to be loved and held by him too.

The campus shuttle came to an abrupt halt, indicating that it was the last stop. You had missed yours.

As the semester continued, Jungkook found himself missing the moments he had shared with you before everything became so complicated. Jia completely stopped mentioning you. Whenever he’d ask, she’d pout and demand his attention to be back on her. While he’d give into her, you still remained in the back of his mind.

It was late in the evening, and Jungkook had decided to take a break from his hectic study schedule, opting to go for a walk around his dorm on campus.

As he neared the drop-off point for the shuttle, he couldn't help but think about you, remembering the first time you had met at a bus stand.

He stood there, lost in thought, when he suddenly saw a figure leaning against the street light.

An involuntary smile crossed his face as he couldn't believe the coincidence.

"_____, is that you?" Jungkook called out, waving to get your attention. He jogs to where you now stood upright.

You turned towards him, your eyes widening in surprise as you recognized him. "Jungkook? What are you doing here?"

He chuckled and motioned to the bus station. "Well, it seems like the bus stands are our special spot. I thought I'd take a break and enjoy the nostalgia."

You let out a mix of a sigh and an awkward laugh, feeling a mixture of nostalgia and uncertainty. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Jungkook nodded, and he noticed the hesitation in your eyes. "Would you like to grab some dinner? We can catch up?"

You were caught off-guard.

"Right now? It's not late enough for dinner." You attempt to find an excuse.

"Sure it is. There's a new Chinese fusion restaurant right off the road outside." Jungkook urged.

"Fusion? What is it fused with?" You wondered.

Jungkook paused. "I... Actually don't know. Want to find out?" He smiled, invitingly.

Not used to the attention he was giving you just now, you found it difficult to tell him 'no'.

Especially when you really wanted to 'catch up' with him.

So, you reluctantly agreed, and the two of you were headed to the nearby restaurant.

Jungkook smiled back at you as he led the way, "Do you want me to hold your hand? It looks heavy."

WHAT?

Your mouth slightly parted open.

Oh, my god? What was his deal?

You're malfunctioning.

"No. I'd rather not..." You hesitantly refuse. Jungkook slows down to let to catch up to him. "Are you sure? You look like you've been carrying that around for a while. And, I really wouldn't mind it."

More confused than ever, "Well, it is attached to me. I'm okay."

"Well, un-attach it! I'll hold it for you." Jungkook's hands graze your shoulder.

Your brows furrow. Finally, you just ask him. "What?"

"Let me hold your bag. Unbuckle, un-attach, relax." Jungkook blabbered as he switched positions to walk behind you, gently taking your backpack off your shoulders.

Oh.

Oh, no. Did you really think he was asking to hold your hand? Really now?

You big dummy with a capital 'D'.

You sigh. "Okay. Thanks, but let me just-" You cut yourself off by unzipping your backpack and pulling out a white sweater with pearls for buttons.

The two of you pause mid-way so you can comfortably wear your sweater. The temperature was dropping my the hour.

Although you don't have your matching mittens and earmuffs, it should be fine.

"That's pretty, _____." Jungkook complimented you.

"Where'd you get that?" He asked, thinking about how much Jia would like this kind of clothing.

You shyly blush and look down at your glossy, red pointed toe heels, "Thanks. I made it myself with the yarn my mother spun for me."

Jungkook looked genuinely impressed. "No way. That's got to be worth a lot then."

You stared up at him with big eyes. Nobody had ever said such sweet things to you.

(That's a lie. Your other friends have always praised your clothes and outfits. But this is different, so it's ok!)

You wordlessly, softly smile at him. Jungkook stares back at you.

Suddenly, his expression changes. His eyes grow big and his mouth forms a smile, "Ah! Could I commission you to make something just like that for Jia? She loves stuff like that!"

And just like that, your heart shattered. Again.

Your kind smile turned into a forced one. "Maybe if I have time."

You noted that he didn't demand or suggest you to make a sweater for Jia, but rather requested it and offered to compensate for it. That just tells you more about how considerate and present he is.

Every time you've talked to people about your handmade clothes, they'd beg you to make them one or jokingly ask about it so that if you do end up making something for them, they wouldn't have to pay you for your efforts. This doesn't include your friends, obviously. And, even if your friends were to act this way, you'd gladly gift them your handiwork.

Well, even though he's somewhat of a stranger to you, if Jungkook ever asked you for something, you'd probably just do it for him too. No questions asked.

Jungkook asked you about your day and your classes. And, you him.

As you were walking on the snow covered sidewalk, you mentally cuss yourself out for picking these shoes. Not only were your feet partially frozen and numb, but also you were ruining very expensive shoes.

"Oh! Puddle, watch out." Jungkook swiftly skipped over a puddle of water that horizontally covered a significant portion of the walkway from one end to the other.

You watched him regain his footing and turn back to you.

Does he expect you to leap like that? Your legs aren't as long as his! But, you don't gave a choice.

You can't step in it, it could very well be a hole of icy water. That'd be risking a potential amputation.

You can't walk around it because there's nowhere to go. And, you can't switch to walking on the road because, well it's dangerous, and there's a metal partition placed specifically to avoid mixing people on wheels and people on foot.

Jungkook puts his hand out for you to grab.

"Just put one foot out to this side and I'll pull you up. Don't worry! I've always done this with Jia." He mentions Jia, hoping to reassure you that he wouldn't let you slip.

All it does is make you more uneasy. Just the thought of Jia. It has an odd effect on you. Your body feels colder. You shudder briefly.

Your only goal now is to get past this stupid puddle without humiliating yourself. You realize that delaying this makes you look more cowardly, hence humiliating you.

So, you grab hold of Jungkook's surprisingly warm hand. Not going to lie, you faked some uncertainty just so you could keep holding his hand.

Someone has got to get you in check.

Jungkook urged you to trust him yet again. His stance showed he was prepared to pull you through.

You lift your left foot and somehow land it on the other side of the puddle. Not even a second after, Jungkook roughly pulls you to him with all his strength.

Not expecting this amount of force, you clumsily collide into his chest, immediately wrapping your arms around his torso to avoid falling back into the very puddle you were trying to get across from.

Jungkook reciprocates by circling his arms around your shoulders and head.

How you wished he held you elsewhere, but he was so respectful.

Everything happened so quickly.

Embarrassed, your breath hitched and you suddenly pushed him to the side.

"Sorry." You whisper. You don't know if he could even hear you.

You fix your sweater and continue staring at your feet, eyeing the little droplets of water on your pants.

Your tummy and nether regions were blazing fire and you felt your nipples slowly hardening. You clench your hands into fists, desperately praying nothing is visible. I mean, you were wearing white.

You wanted so badly for Jungkook to reach out, just stick his hand up your top and soothe your pretty, sensitive nips. Your breathing has become unstable for a few seconds.

You should be beaten up for having these thoughts about a taken man.

Jungkook suddenly places his hand on your arm, making you jolt. "We're close. Look, it's there." He smiles and points to the establishment.

"Great. I'm so cold." You try to play it off, just in case he noticed something.

You then cover your chest by flipping your hair back over it.

This time, he let you walk ahead of him.

On reaching the restaurant, Jungkook skipped ahead of you and pulled the door open for you. "After you." He smiled, goofily.

You blush and instantly shake it off, "Why, thank you. My fragile hands could never."

Jungkook and you were immediately hit by the warmth and coziness of the home style, Chinese fusion restaurant.

"Huh. This is not at all what I expected." Jungkook looked around, pleased with himself.

You replicated that action.

The restaurant was designed to replicate someone's home, or garage. It had unique tables and chairs. No two items were the same. Even most of cutlery was different.

You appreciated the dedication to this concept.

"Good evening! Table for two?" A very familiar voice interrupted you.

Your head abruptly turned towards the direction of the voice.

"Joon!" You exclaimed, rushing over to throwing yourself into his personal space.

Surprised by your sudden enthusiasm, Jungkook raised a brow. This was the most chipper he'd ever seen you.

Jungkook and Namjoon knew each other.

Other than from your constant yapping, Namjoon knew of Jungkook because Jungkook was actively trying to pursue Namjoon, pleading for him to be Jungkook's musical mentor. However, Namjoon wouldn't budge.

Namjoon instantaneously engulfs your whole body with his arms, rubbing your back.

When Namjoon clearly looked at the man stood behind you, his eyes widened.

No way.

Is this why you went off-grid? Had you finally managed to bag Jeon Jungkook? Namjoon was too stunned to move.

Namjoon was just about to ask you about it when Jungkook speaks instead. "Table for two is right. Thanks."

You let go off Namjoon, confirming Jungkook's words.

Whatever. Namjoon will be blowing your phone up later either way. So, he decided to let you off the hook for the rest of the evening.

Namjoon cheekily smiles at the two of you as he leads you into an isolated booth.

It was a space behind some beaded curtains, giving the illusion of the space being more private.

The table was relatively smaller and surrounding it were three chairs; two regular wooden ones with soft cushions, and one loveseat.

Then, Namjoon abruptly left.

You didn't realize what Namjoon was doing until he returned with two menus and something that looked like a candle and a lighter.

Oh, no.

No. This was NOT happening.

You frown and awkwardly wait for him to set the table up and leave.

What? There's nothing you can do or say without overreacting! It's not like you WANT to wine and dine your friend's boyfriend.

(You totally do, but you would not pull something like that purposely.)

Jungkook seemed to just go with the flow, unbothered.

You promptly sat yourself on one of the wooden chairs and Jungkook opted to sit on the comfortable loveseat.

"So, how do you know Namjoon?" Jungkook wasted no time.

"We've been friends for a while." You continue, "Jia too. She knows him."

At that, Jungkook raises a brow. Jia knows Namjoon? Jungkook has mentioned Namjoon many times before. Jia never indicated that she knew him.

Still, he brushed it off.

"How do you know him?" You ask.

"Oh, he's like rhythm and poetry royalty. I've been sending this man emails for months begging him to mentor me... I can't believe Jia- It's so weird, finally seeing the guy who kept rejecting me." He cut himself off towards the end.

He can't believe Jia WHAT? Tell me. PLEASE.

You painstakingly push your annoyance away.

Instead you laugh, "I had no idea he was being pursued by students, wow."

"Yeah..." Jungkook giggled, somewhat embarrassed.

As the evening went on, you talked quite a bit. If he noticed, he didn't mind your awkwardness.

As if you were suddenly remembering something, you hummed. "I take it you didn't tell Jia about the... thing?" You struggled to find the right words to describe it.

Jungkook slowly nodded and repeated, "The... Thing."

"Yeah. You know, about you guys? Dating?" You press your legs together, a little anxious.

"Oh! Right!" He smiled in realization, "I actually did end up telling her about it that same night." He nodded, this time, positively.

You froze and your face dropped.

Had you been drinking something at that moment, you'd have spat that out. If you were eating at that moment, you'd have dropped your utensils on the floor.

"And then we talked about you for a while. I told her you gave me your word. I mean, I'm sure she already told you..." He continued.

Jia. She knows you know.

"Because she panicked..." Jungkook kept talking but at that point you had tuned him out.

Your mouth involuntarily formed a sad pout. Your eyes which were drying out from tiredness, slowly began to fill up with tears of... frustration, and anger, and confusion.

She knew.

She didn't even try to talk to you.

You assumed she was just busy.

But, she was actually just avoiding you. Just as you her.

Your eyes were glazed over.

The humiliation, guilt, anger and paranoia set in all at once.

Does this mean... Jungkook knows? Is he toying with you?

No. That's far-fetched. Way off. He'd never do that. He was so nice to you all night.

But, he IS a nice guy. Why wouldn't he be nice?

You're starting to make less sense now.

You don't even blink because if you do, your tears won't hold themselves back.

Jia fucking knew and avoided you on purpose. She couldn't face you. She fucking betray you, and she couldn't handle it. She didn't want to face it.

Jungkook sensed that there was something on your mind. "_____, is something wrong? Should I not have told her? What's going on?" He asked, his curiosity piqued.

You hesitated for a moment. You weren't used to being impulsive. That was never you. But, lately, that streak was becoming increasingly steady.

So, you decided to open up. Like an idiot.

"It's me."

Jungkook nervously smiled, "It's you?"

"The 'creep' with the schoolgirl crush." You added.

Jungkook's eyes widened in surprise, and he leaned in, his expression a mix of shock and curiosity. "You? But... I don't understand."

He shook his head and stared at you, expecting you to keep going.

Great job, idiot.

You didn't have a choice now.

You took a deep breath and began to explain, "I had a crush on you, Jungkook. I have a crush on you. I've never been silent about it." You winced.

The tears. They're coming.

"I mean, I've never been silent about it with my friends. Including Jia."

The knot forming in your throat felt tighter.

Jungkook listened carefully, trying to make sense of this... revelation. "So, it was all a misunderstanding? There was never a 'creep'?" He reasoned.

You kept your eyes trained down at your lap, more embarrassed than ever. "I... No? I don't know." Your eyes were heavy with tears. Your nose began to sting.

You pressed your lips together to hold all the ugly sobs in, and squeezed your eyes shut.

"_____?" Jungkook questioned worriedly.

You furrowed your brows and frantically shook your head, "Jia. Everyone, my friends, everyone knew about it- that I liked you. From the day we met. The- it was like a mixer?" You slouch and let your arms fall to your sides, "I can't remember. I've liked you for so long..." You trail off silently shedding tears.

You inhale before letting out a little squeaky apology.

Jungkook only looks at you. He doesn't understand, or register anything.

"_____..." Jungkook begins.

"I didn't know Jia was your girlfriend. I'd always talk to her about you, and how good you looked on whatever, whenever- and how you, and then she..." Your shoulders begin to shake towards the end of your sentence. You fully began to cry.

Thank goodness you were separated from the rest of the restaurant-goers.

You were clearly unable to hold a conversation.

You wanted to bang your head on the table. Repeatedly.

Jungkook's brows almost touched his hairline.

"I'M the 'creep' she told you about. I'm the reason for... But I didn't know. I SWEAR. Until you told me. I knew then." You sniffle every two seconds. "I was going to tell you how I felt but then you- I'm sorry!" You finally broke down, sobbing into your hands.

"Hey. Just... breathe, okay?" You felt Jungkook shimmy out of his seat and back away from the table. He then walks over to you.

You already knew tomorrow's _____ was going to kill herself.

Jungkook pours you a glass of water.

He has no idea what to tell you.

He can't find the words to even begin to describe what he's feeling right now.

Jungkook's brain had stopped generating new thoughts. All he's thinking about is the crying girl in front of him, half-heartedly confessing her feelings for him.

Frustrated, he ran his hands through his hair. Then he looked down at you.

You are whom his girlfriend was worried about?

The same girl whom he hadn't stopped thinking about the past weeks.

The same girl who's his girlfriend's friend. His girlfriend.

His girlfriend who lied- hid things from him.

Had you planned this? Was Jia right to hide him away?

Jungkook really doesn't know what to think.

Jungkook needed to leave. He felt suffocated.

"_____, I'm sorry for the way things turned out. I... wish I had known the truth earlier." Jungkook solemnly spoke.

He hoped you believed him. He can't tell if you're in the right frame of mind to talk. He knows he sure isn't.

You sniffle harder, still appreciating his understanding. "I honestly just wanted to clear the air and be honestly honest with you...." You sigh deeply, speaking shakily. "I just thought... Maybe Jia would talk to me herself. And when she didn't--- I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable."

Jungkook just stood by you, unmovingly. It was as if he himself was trying to figure out what to say.

After what felt like forever, you hesitantly lift your head up to look at Jungkook, "I understand if you'd want to leave now."

And you meant it. You couldn't force him to watch you cry like an idiot. So, you understandingly told him he had a free will, that he could walk away.

And he really did.

Jungkook stared down at your tear-stained face for a few seconds.

Then without uttering a single word, he slowly blinked at you and walked away.

Now, you stare at the back of his head, wide-eyed.

You didn't expect him to actually leave this instance.

I mean, he didn't owe you anything, but you still felt uneasy.

The rational part of you truly understood his choice. But the emotional part of you was destroyed.

Even though you have no right to feel this way, you're so disappointed. In him. In yourself. In Jia. You think that's well deserved though; your disappointment in Jia.

Did she hate you?

Nothing else mattered.

You don’t know it yet but the biggest burden had just been lifted off your shoulders.

(Until you face Jia. But, more on that later.)

And, as for Jia; Jia had enough time to come clean. This was not on you. It was all her.

#fic: for what it's worth #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook x oc #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #bts x reader #bts angst

815 notes · View notes

undercoverpena · 2 months

Text

5. pepper red

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter five 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: 2.5k chapter warnings: [see masterlist for series warnings] SMUT. p in v. dirty talk/mutual appreciation. minor competency. frankie is pretty, thick and sexy. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. you wear a date outfit but not specified. no use of y/n. an: if this was a sitcom episode, it wouldn't be allowed to be aired and also, i passed my exam, wahoo.

prev chapter | series masterlist

For some reason, it doesn’t surprise you that his bedroom is forest green. Or, that it’s accented by strong whites and similar dark woods as the living room. All earthy tones, him.

In the same way, it doesn’t surprise you that his skin is soft, all smooth as your fingers brush over his skin when you lift his t-shirt from his frame.

Because he looks as good as he did in those videos you’d watched over and over. Getting the chance to see if the silver scars were tricks of the light or stories he hadn’t shared. Your fingers discovered it was the latter.

“God, you look good, Frankie.”

He snorts, before sliding a thumb under your jaw, forcing you to confront big, doe brown eyes. Ones that you’d fall into if you could, especially as they pause, stare from one eye to the next, likely to see if there’s a lie there—a slither of untruth to your confession.

There isn’t.

A thing you ensure sits at the forefront, a silent plea for him to believe you. You suppose he must do when his mouth slides back over yours. Tongue pressing at your lower lip, seeking entry that you happily allow.

You lose yourself in it, him. How good it feels to have his lips on yours again. To have the added feel of purposeful and intentional fingers taking their sweet time to slide your outfit from you.

Because his hands trail over as much as they can. Doing so as though he’s busy carving a memory of you in his mind, making you real. A thing you won’t admit you’re doing too, too busy committing the way he feels, as you run your hands across his shoulders. Feel the expanse of them, the width, wondering—as his tongue swirls a shape on your neck—if yoga will really help you fit his broadness between your thighs.

Frankie must notice you’re drifting, thinking, because his mouth finds yours. A thing which cements you to the moment. Kissing you slowly, deliberately—a hint of mint amongst the drink he’d provided and you smirk, smiling against him.

Because he’s eaten a TicTac.

It mixes, fighting to refresh as though you hadn’t eaten and consumed the same fast food. But the act, the way his lips slide against yours, makes that joke melt as quickly as it appeared, because he’s completing his mission: the one to leave you breathless.

Tangling your fingers in his hair, you choose to pull him closer, deepening the kiss. Tongue sliding back behind his teeth as a soft moan escapes him; swallowed by your own as his hands grip your hips, pulling you flush against him. The feel of him, hard and ready against you sends a thrill of anticipation darting through you.

It’s easy, simple, to allow the rhythm of your bodies to become a language all of its own. A two-way conversation being sketched out and written in sighs and moans, punctuated by the occasional gasp. A symphony of desire.

And then you make things shift. Change the tempo when your hand descends between the two of you. Feeling him, grasping his cock, taking note of the way he inhales at the feel of your fingers. For a moment, his mouth hovers over yours—both open, just breathing. His palms flat to your side—as you hold him, feel his cock twitch in your hand. Moving, slowly—almost torturously, but it’s actually with precision.

He’s so hard, thick. Your fingers tighten their hold, wrist moving more, palm sliding up and down as you taste the way he says fuck.

“Bed,” he groans, almost through gritted teeth.

Smirking, you bite his lower lip. Light. Not piercing or enough to leave an indent. “In a minute.”

And it leaves his tongue again. Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, baby.

All you can think about is how good he sounds, looks—feels. His head tipped back, neck elongated—lips parting as each expletive lasts longer than the four letters that make it up. It’s cliché to say it’s never been like this, but a truth that personal isn’t always easy to confess.

“Not waited to do this right with you to come before you have, Rainy.”

His fingers, those calloused ones attached to those hard-working hands, wrap around your wrist. Light, but determined.

“Oh, Butterscotch,” you tease, mouth close to his. “You been thinking about this?”

He smirks, just as he clasps his other hand to your side—tugging, yanking you flush. Feeling him, all of him, as you’re guided, moved, backs of your legs meeting the well-made bed you’re about to mess up and ruin.

“Since the moment I heard you laugh.”

Your body falls back, the sheets cool, smooth, pressing against your bare spine, before his body comes up—caging you. Nudging your thighs apart with his knee.

“Just kept thinking, bet you make other pretty noises too.”

Lips parting, you knot your fingers in the curls at the base of his neck, letting his lips slide into his cheek. That dimple appearing. The one which tries to hide under wiry hair and shyness, but is deeper than ever now, nothing held back or hidden.

And you can’t help but watch, completely transfixed by the light from the lamp he'd flicked on. The one lighting up his face, making him appear golden, ethereal. Able to discern each of the shades that make up his eyes, the flecks within them, the different browns that make a colour you dream and think of constantly, but you’re not sure has any other name than Frankie.

“Can I touch you, baby?”

You find you can only nod.

Words failing, falling, simply replaced by a gasp as he slides them between your partly spread thighs—feeling it, how wet you are. How slick and desperate you are to have him. A mess, all for him, by him. It likely ruined the underwear you’d left on his floor and dampened the sheets under you.

“This all for me?”

The rasp of his voice only makes you ache more for him. Hips desperate to shift so his fingers do more than trace and tease, but plunge and curl.

“Yes,” you moan.

It's like he knows you. A thought that bubbles and bursts when your fingers grasp at his sheets, his two fingers feel so much different than your own; Than the toys you own that are shoved in protective bags inside your sock drawer. His seek, aiming to find that spot inside you, stretches you, making your toes curl and your knuckles ache from how tight they hold the sheets.

And he’s talking. A sea of things that you half-catch and miss the rest. That you look good, feel good, that he wants to watch you come apart before he even thinks about giving you his cock.

Words almost leave your mouth, but you’re barely present.

More electric than person; more liquid than solid. So fucking close already you can feel the tremors in your thighs from not rutting yourself against his hand when the base of his palm presses flat to your swollen nerves.

“Fuck, Frankie—”

“Do you like it when I talk, baby?” his voice becomes an anchor. Keeping you here, not allowing you to float too far as you nod, crinkled pillows sounding as you do. “I think you do. I think you like hearing how hard you make me, how much I think about you in this bedroom, in the shower—at work—“

You’re arching. Barely clinging to the present as your feet flatten to root you, to grip to reality as your ears ring and pleasure does more thrum, but builds and builds—all compressing, hot, closer to liquid fire.

“—look at me, baby.”

And you do.

Lids flipping open as you’re met with nothing but desire, lust and need. It pushes you, suddenly freefalling. Your throat aching, scratched with the syllables of his name as you dig fingers into his curls and curl your body as much against him as possible as he works you through it. Him coaxing, mouth on your collarbone as he licks and lathes as you moan, and pant.

It’s then you look at him again.

Bathed in a sandy glow, sweat peppered on his chest, glinting and glittering as you find his eyes on you, taking you in as you catch your breath.

He’s so handsome, beautiful. In a way that ruined you before, that made you think of nothing but him, which now devastates you—in a way you only want him to do over and over.

It’s easier to kiss him than say it.

To trace the words over his mouth as he hums, as the vibration tickles across your lips before you’re manoeuvring him. Only paused in doing so as he dragged his lips down your neck, the sound of a drawer opening, closing, hearing a wrapper crinkle.

It’s a blink and you’ll miss it moment when your hand snatches it from him, placing it between your teeth, trying as they do so easily in movies to lightly rip it over with your teeth. You struggle. Suddenly nervous about piercing it, mind in overdrive because what—

"Easy, baby. I've got it," he growls into your ear, taking it from you, opening it more with ease than you'd managed.

And it makes you crash your mouth back to his. Etching more things to his mouth, smudging them over his tongue. How much you want this, want him.

It’s why you’re grateful that Frankie moves with ease until he’s on his back and you’re on top of him. A hand finds a home on your back, once the empty wrapper is discarded, fingers spreading out, flowing warmth into your bones. Then the other begins aiding, lining himself up as the head presses against your opening.

When you take as much of him as you can, fingers soothing your hip at the stretch, the hiss drawn from your lips at the light sting, before your forehead meets his. It's a moment before you move again. His words are there, guiding, before the room is flooded with a moan that's unearthed from your soul. One that is almost smothered in his own, a groan that makes heat flood your ears and a smile grace your mouth.

“So good for me, feel so good—“

“Can take more,” you interrupt, breathless. Slowly moving again, lifting up before sliding back down his cock—walls welcoming him, stretching, taking him to the hilt. “Y’feel good, Frankie.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding, you roll your hips slowly, torturously if anything. Still sensitive. Little gasps escape as you begin to find a rhythm, one that makes his teeth bite down on his lip.

Taking his hand, pulling it to your breast, wrapping around it as he cups it—as his groan stains the air between the two of you—you draw an O with your hips, feel that heat in your stomach.

“I like your hands, Frankie.”

A line appears, deep between his two brows. A look of shock, surprise—awe—spreads over his face like a sunny day suddenly appearing in a storm. Before, it’s slipping away, hiding, wriggling away to some depth of him you wish to call back.

“I like your voice, your smile—fuck, oh my god—and-and I like your thighs, and your…”

You continue, babbling, rambling as his hands find your hips, steadying, moving you, thrusting up into you as little spots appear in your vision, as your own voice becomes distant and easily forgettable.

But the look on his face is anything but the latter.

He’s spellbound, utterly captivated—appearing as though if his mind was a camera, he’d have filled up several memory cards with what he was trying to capture.

And it feels good.

A wanting so bad that it almost makes you snap there and then, more so as the head of his cock kisses that part of you once again, a whine coated in both a gasp and a moan—

“Put your hands on the headboard, baby.”

And you do, assisted by him moving you with him sheathed inside of you before palm after palm is placed. The fabric underneath is soft, almost like velvet—leaving marks of your touch behind in its wake as you feel his mouth on the underside of your breast.

“You look good like this,” he continues, mouth pressing kisses to your skin, “But then, you always do.”

Your eyes snap to his, finding nothing but hunger paddling in brown. You don't fight the heat that flares out to the last few places pleasure hasn’t touched. Where only compliments and adoration can kiss and warm.

Then he says your name.

Not baby, not Rainy, but the one you’d handed him in that paint aisle and set yourself on a course for unravelling. A thing you don’t regret, but rather wish had happened sooner.

Your name rasped in that deep way that echoes through the room long after the last letter is spoken, digging deep into your soul as it unlocks something. It makes every sound amplified; the rustle of sheets, the creak of the bed, the sound of skin meeting skin.

“Let me hear you, baby,” cuts through, slicing,

And you do.

Your whine shifts into a sob, almost choking on it as it snaps—as pleasure rips through you and drowns you in waves. There’s nothing but white, a much louder ringer, and the distant knowledge that you’re spraying his name across the room as your hips stutter and he thrusts up into you, twitching, fucking breathless from it.

His hands, large and holding tight, keep you rooted—slowly hearing him groaning, grunting, low hisses of your name and how good you feel tight around his cock.

His fingers dig into your skin when he follows you. When his eyes clench, and his mouth parts around your name, lighting it up, making it seem as special as he makes you feel.

You collapse fully against him, thighs still shaking, little tremors in your muscles as your fingers brush back his damp curls from his forehead. A smile easy to find, to let slide over your mouth as you kiss him.

The light from the lamp drapes over you—still sticky, a mess between your thighs as you kiss him again, bodies flush. More gentle, a light lick across his bottom lip as you feel him grin, hands roaming over your body, tracing the curve of your waist, the slope of your back

He murmurs your name, palm sliding up your cheek, tip of his nose brushing against yours. “Should clean you up.”

“Hmm…”

His thumb swipes, hearing him swallow as your eyes open and find his already on you. “Don’t go.”

"To clean up?"

"Tonight."

Biting your lip, you try to fight it—less a smile and more a grin. “Okay. I won’t.”

And his lips capture yours once more. A thing you relax into—easily. Just like you keep finding so effortless to do with him.

next chapter ->

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x reader smut #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales smut #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 #francisco morales smut

371 notes · View notes

roxxie-wolf · 17 days

Text

𝒜 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓇

Chapter 1 ⭐️ Chapter 2 ⭐️ Chapter 3

Pairing: Lucifer x Fem!Reader

Summary: Helping Angel from getting a beating to entering a hotel and meeting someone who you will become close with.

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: bad choking, bad word, idk what else. If there’s something else please let me know.

Note: I will post for this one every Saturday. I’m not so sure how I did. I tried though.😭

MDNI

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝟣

You were getting ready for the next shoot today after days of shooting, wondering when Valentino would let you rest. “Hey are you ready yet,” Valentino's angry voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Yes, I’m going” Frustrated, you confirmed that you were, putting on the last piece, a garter belt. Standing up and fixing yourself, you headed out.

As you stepped out, the bright lights of the set blinded you for a moment. Valentino was pacing back and forth.

“Finally,” he muttered as he saw you, but the edge in his voice softened when he took in your appearance. “You look… perfect.” Valentino shoots you a grin crossing his arms. “Alright then amorcito take a sit on the bed and get ready,”

You didn’t have the energy to respond with anything more than a nod. You made your way towards the heart shaped bed. The set was bustling with activity, everyone moving to the rhythm of a silent, urgent symphony. You took your place, the camera lens focusing on you.

On your left, a door swung open and out stepped Angel, donning a garter belt as well. As you positioned yourself, a demon stood beside you, patiently waiting. Meanwhile, another demon eagerly awaited Angel's next move.

As Angel neared, Valentino rose from his seat, reaching out to grasp Angel's neck and lift him high. With a surge of urgency, you leaped from the bed, shouting, "Let him go, pay attention to me!" Seizing Valentino's arm, you tried to pry him away from Angel's neck.

Valentino's grip on Angel tightened, his eyes blazing with an anger that seemed to consume him. You could see the confusion and fear in Angel's eyes, a plea for help that was silent but loud in its desperation.

Baffled by Valentino's actions, you sensed his longstanding anger towards Angel. "Where have you been, you insolent brat," Val's words lashed out as his other hand shoved you to the ground. Undeterred, you rose to your feet once more, pleading, "Val, I need your assistance, please."

For a moment, Valentino's eyes flickered towards you a look of surprise and confusion. “What do you need now you bitch,” his words came out with a hint of venom. “I - I need you to come here with me, I have to show you something,” you stammered, approaching him cautiously swaying your hips. Slowly, the pressure around Angel's neck lessened. Angel gasped for air, collapsing to the ground as Valentino released him completely.

A sinister grin played on Valentino's lips, intrigued by your cryptic request. With his focus now on you, Val advanced and seized your face with two hands while securing your hips with the other two. As you gazed past him, you witnessed Angel on the floor, struggling for breath, sitting up coughing and rubbing his neck. His eyes wide with a mix of gratitude and confusion.

Valentino's voice jolted you back to attention as he demanded, “What are you looking at?”Startled, you turned your focus back to him, "Nothing," gently placing your hand on Valentino's that rested on your cheek, offering a forced smile. Though fear gripped you, you refused to let it show. Angel watched as you reached out to Val.

“Let’s continue the shoot shall we?,”you whispered softly. "Very well, let’s continue," Valentino responded, clapping his hands to signal the team to resume their tasks. You were relieved that he had listened to you. You guess it was because he was desperate to finish this shoot.

Valentino had a vision, and he expected nothing but perfection from you. The pressure was on as you settled into your first pose, feeling the heat of the lights beating down on your skin. The demon beside you adjusted your position, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

The shoot seemed to drag on for hours, each moment filled with tension and anticipation. Valentino was a perfectionist, and he didn't settle for anything less than flawless. Sweat trickled down your back as you pushed your body to its limits, contorting and twisting in ways you never thought possible.

As the shoot finally came to an end, you collapsed onto the bed, your body aching and exhausted. Valentino's voice cut through the silence, his tone approving but demanding more. You knew there would be no rest for the wicked, especially not when Valentino was involved.

The studio lights dimmed, signaling the end of a grueling day. The air was thick with the scent of hard work and the faintest hint of satisfaction from Valentino's rare nod of approval. You lay there on the bed, every muscle crying out for reprieve.

Valentino's shadow loomed over you, his figure outlined by the backlight. "You did well today amorcito," the term of endearment rolling off his tongue with a familiarity that belied the tension between you. "But we both know you can do even better,” His grin didn't reach his eyes, and it was clear that his praise was a double-edged sword.

You met his gaze, your own eyes heavy with exhaustion. Words were unnecessary; your silence spoke volumes. The last thing you wanted was his proximity, his presence a reminder of the power he wielded.

Val turned around and left. You were left alone on the bed, the imprint of the day's events heavy in the air. But you wouldn't allow the weight to pin you down. With a strength born of necessity, you pushed yourself off the bed and moved towards the sanctuary of your room. Each step was a small victory, a defiance of the control he sought to maintain.

Valentino's softness was a facade, a manipulation you had come to recognize all too well. You knew better than to let your guard down, to mistake his gentleness for kindness. In this dance of shadows and light, you had learned to navigate the treacherous waters of Valentino's moods.

As you closed the door behind you, the click of the latch was a temporary barrier, a momentary breath of safety in a world where you had to be ever vigilant.

The room was your sanctuary, a place where the chaos of the outside world couldn't reach you. As you sat at the vanity, the layers of the day's persona fell away with each piece of makeup you removed. The knock on the door was soft, almost hesitant, but it shattered the solitude you were clinging to.

Angel's figure filled the doorway, his posture uncharacteristically subdued. "Hey toots," he murmured, a term of endearment that felt out of place in the silence of the room.

You glanced past him, ensuring the coast was clear, before stepping aside to let him in. The click of the door shutting behind him was a definitive sound, a full stop to the day's sentence.

"I just came to say thank you for earlier," his voice tinged with a nervousness that didn't quite match the cocky persona he projected on set. His hand went to the back of his neck, a self-soothing gesture that spoke volumes.

"Sure no problem, anytime," you responded with a wink, injecting a bit of levity into the moment.

“Hey, do ya want to come with me somewhere?”the prospect of an escape from the day's drama was like a breath of fresh air. Angel's invitation was a welcome distraction, a chance to step out of the role you had been playing and just be yourself for a while.

"Where?" your curiosity piqued.

"To the hotel. I want to introduce ya to some of my friends," his cheerfulness infectious. It was clear he was looking forward to the evening as much as you were. The idea of meeting new people, experiencing something different, was enticing.

"Sure why not! But first, let me change and put something more decent," the excitement bubbling up inside you. The thought of getting out, even if just for a few hours, was exhilarating.

As Angel waited patiently, you rifled through your wardrobe, selecting something that was comfortable yet chic. Tonight was about unwinding, about finding a moment of normalcy in the whirlwind of your profession.

Dressed and ready, you glanced at Angel, who gave you an approving nod. "Let's go," he smiled, and you couldn't help but return it.

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list so you be updated every time.^^

Also I sometimes tend to make minor changes to the chapters.

Thank you! For reading I hope you enjoyed it.⭐️

TAGLIST: @hazelfoureyes

#lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #lucifer smut

197 notes · View notes

predestinatos · 7 months

Text

outside, baby | CL16 ☆𖦹°‧★

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

pairing: charles leclerc × fem!reader [+ tiny bit of oscar piastri x fem!reader]

summary: charles was not expecting to see you this time. especially not with someone else. chapter 2 of an ongoing series.

tags: enemies to lovers, jealous!charles, sweet cute giddy moments with oscar, i promise he won't get hurt in this, smut (details in warnings)

word count: 3.6k

♡₊˚ 🦢₊✧ minors dni !! warnings & note underneath ♡₊˚ 🦢₊✧

warnings: smut, car sex, thigh riding, dirty talk, sort of possessive talk.

author's note: thank you so much for all the lovely comments and support on part 1!! it made me really happy to continue this and make it a series!! hope you like this chapter with some twists and turns <3

You were nervous.

Not because this was your first time at a race - it wasn't - but because it was the first time you went to one not invited by friends but by someone else.

You weren't sure when it had started, but meeting Oscar Piastri had been one of the best things that could've happened to you recently. He was intensely calm and collected, respectful of your space but also caring. Although things haven't developed much past a couple of dates and more than a couple of texts, you enjoyed how it was progressing.

You watched him get ready, his scent of fresh fruit now becoming familiar to you, his shy smile a comfortable view.

Sitting in his driver's room, you admired him and how direct he was.

"Thank you for being here" he interrupted your thoughts softly, cheeks slightly red.

"Thank you for inviting me" you replied, giving him a small smile yourself. You felt 15 again, shy and slightly awkward, but oh so giddy.

So much so that you had almost forgotten the burning Read that still haunted your phone.

It didn't matter - at least not anymore. It was who he was, cold, distant and arrogant. You both had your fun for a night and that was all there was to it.

And although you avoided crossing your path with his as much as he did with you - you noticed how rarely Charles was in dinners and parties where you were, but his presence was assured as soon as you informed the group chat you couldn't make it that day - you also hoped to see him.

not to speak to him, or confront him, but rather to have some sort of confirmation, that something had happened that night. To see his reaction upon noticing your presence where he did not expect you to be, to catch his unprepared gaze, to decipher it somehow.

Oscar's hand suddenly appeared in your vision, inviting you to hold it as he guided you towards the upper part of the paddock, where you'd be watching the race. Holding it, his hand felt familiar, a sense of closeness you had with this boy that provided you with the friendship you needed in moments such as those.

"Are you nervous?" you asked him. He seemed so calm, confident in a non arrogant way, just aware that he was doing his best and that was the best anyone could do. His shoulders relaxing, he kept guiding you towards your spot as he replied, "over the race? not really. over you being here? yes."

There it was, his bluntness and openness about his own feelings which captivated you so much and made you feel so secure. There were no games with him, he was transparent and collected, and you felt like you were near a beach, listening to the waves but never afraid they'd consume you.

Upon walking, your eyes brush over a familiar figure - recognizable everywhere, dark party lights or not. Before your brain could process everything to take another look, he was already on the move towards the ferrari garage, leaving your heart pounding in your chest with ache. Reaching the most comfortable spot where you could sit and see the race perfectly, Oscar left a small kiss on your cheek as you wished him good luck.

"You're already here" he replied, with a timid wink, as he turned away from you and towards the garage.

Reporter: Charles, that was quite an aggressive approach out there on the track today! Charles: Well, yeah, I fight hard for what I want… and I wanted a place on that podium-

You were sitting on the hotel room floor, eating some takeout sushi, drinking coke and watching the Saw films with Oscar, his own special way of celebrating a P4 – which is to say, it’s a great spot for him as he is proving himself, so he feels happy enough to just hang.

“This is gross” he said, frowning and flinching his whole body as he took a sip of his drink. “I mean, it isn’t even scary, it’s just disgusting” he continued, despite clearly wanting to keep watching.

“It’s just someone chopping their own arm off, could be worse” you joked back, smiling at him. “Besides, being so gross that you can’t stop watching is what makes it so good.”

It felt easy, being with him. Like being with a friend you’ve known since you were little, where you could breathe and be yourself without overthinking.

“Thank you again. For being there today, I mean” he said, his eyes not leaving the television screen. “No need. You did great out there, and you were so close to that podium were it not for Charles’ ridiculous move,” you replied, rolling your eyes. You tried not to think about it, or what it could mean, at least not now, while you were with Oscar. Your anger was ready to burst out of you at any moment, but you held it down with him around.

“Yeah, I mean… It was fucked, but completely legal. I guess I just wasn’t expecting it as much since Leclerc is not the type to do that” he shrugged it off, while also flinching at the sudden limb being ripped out on screen. As much as you tried to brush it off as a new attempt at strategy, you knew Charles wasn’t the type to do that at all. He was arrogant, rude and overconfident but not on track, not the driver who takes such an offensive approach. You hated the fact that your mind found itself considering the fact that this was because of you, that the sheer image of you with someone else could turn Charle’s behavior into one of sheer petty jealousy. Besides, it made no sense. He had left you on read, he had constantly made it clear how much he disliked you, and accidents such as that night happen but that’s all they are – accidents.

As the credits of the 3rd film rolled, your phone vibrated and its screen lit up in the darkness of the hotel room. You took a quick glance at it, almost instinctively, not thinking much about it. However, the name on the screen caused you to freeze as you watched the screen turn to black again. You double tapped again, and read what it said:

Charles (Asshole): let me know once you’re done comforting your little friend. (2:04am)

Before, you would have chuckled at this, knowing it sprang out of amusement over getting on your nerves, but this time you knew it wasn’t like that. He was gloating, not only over winning, but over winning against Oscar. He also knew Oscar wasn’t necessarily upset over his P4, given the fact that it was a really good position for a rookie. But what he did know, was that if he had taken his usual approach, maybe things would be different. He confirmed your suspicions and this only angered you more. You knew you shouldn’t, you should turn the phone down, screen facing the floor, and enjoy the 4th film with its gore and blood, maybe even imagining it was Charles in there. But you couldn’t. So you typed back.

You: why would i give you that satisfaction (2:06am)

You barely had time to put your phone down before its screen lit up again, this time twice in a row.

Charles (Asshole): i think i deserve it tbh, princess (2:06am) Charles (Asshole): send me your location (2:07am)

In a way he did deserve it. He deserved for you to scream at him, to hear how horrible of a person he was, how absolutely exhausted you were of this despite the fact it had just started. You looked at the boy sitting next to you, who noticed your stare and looked back, replying only with a tired smile. You pressed the ‘share location’ button on your phone and locked its screen.

“Seems like the films aren’t gory enough to keep you awake” you softly tell Oscar. He let out a breath that indicated a humored reaction at what you said. Instinctively, you ran a hair through his hair as you spoke “you should sleep. And I should go.”

He seemed both sad that you were leaving and happy that you were able to see past his attempt at staying awake. This was confirmed by his nod and yawn as he got up in order to walk you to the hotel room door. “How are you getting there?” he asked, running a hand through his hair. With this, you realized you really didn’t have any way to leave, and were counting on Charles to provide a lift. “Oh uh… a friend is taking me, don’t worry” you grinned as you said goodbye to him. His hand remained on yours for a second too long but was quickly removed awkwardly as he tried shaking it off as a symptom of sleepiness. “Right, well… goodnight” he whispered warmly as he closed the door.

You awaited as the elevator descended, and time seemed to have slowed down massively. Hours seemed to pass inside that cubicle, although they still didn’t give you enough time to plan what you were going to say. Suddenly, this whole ordeal seemed too complex, too stupid and too dramatic for you to feed into it. You desperately wanted it to be over despite the fact that it hadn’t really started, and as the doors opened you glanced at the text on your phone which said “Here.”

You stood at the entrance of the hotel, looking around for any sign of Charles or his car. Far away, barely parked in a small, almost hidden corner, you saw his pitch black Ferrari, impossible to ignore but still trying its best to remain unnoticeable. You walked anxiously towards him, his figure becoming more and more clear as you got closer. He was wearing a dark hoodie and his glasses, making him look softer and even friendlier. It was ridiculous how much it contrasted with his actual attitude and egotism. You realized then there was nothing you could say to him, nothing to argue about whatsoever, because that was just who Charles was, and he wasn’t worth it.

You took a deep breath as you opened the car door and hopped in, the air conditioner hitting your skin and giving you goosebumps.

At first, you were surprised at how aware of your anger he seemed to be – he was driving carefully and silently for a few minutes before he broke the tension rising between you two. “So for how long have you known your little friend?” he asked. Despite the ironic, mocking tone in his voice, his jaw was tense and his hands gripped the wheel a bit tighter, his veins becoming more and more visible. Upon realizing this, you had reached an even better conclusion: the only way to handle Charles was to play by the same rules that he played, even if it required a little bit of bluffing.

“And why would that be of your concern?” you asked, bringing one leg on top of the other, while leaning down more comfortably on the car seat. You tried looking ahead, relying on the corner of your eye for any subtle movements coming from him – in this case, his head going left and right, in a negative movement.

“None. It’s just that you seemed upset that I was better than him” he answered, clearly pleased with the fact that your back and forth had just restarted. “Fuck you, Leclerc” you spat at him, now looking through the window, your back turned. Even then, you could feel his every movement as the car seemed to get smaller and smaller all around you.

“I’m not sure your little friend would like that, princess” his giggle was so innocent against the unexpected affirmation, that your whole body tensed up. “Are we back on a last name basis as well?” he continued, unapologetically striking every single one of your nerves at once. You felt the car slow down on a secluded area, mostly forest, but which revealed a small lake with the moonlight reflected on its surface. It was as quiet as it could get, as you heard the car stopping and then turning fully off. You realized you hadn’t told him where to take you, so even if he wanted to just mess with you while driving you home, there was no way for him to do so.

Part of you wanted to stay and not go, so you wouldn’t be alone with your own thoughts. The only thing worse than being with Charles in a car at night was being alone in your room. The same couldn’t be said for him. He had gotten P2, which was pretty good, and surely would be a good enough excuse for a celebration involving drinking and partying and not sleeping.

“Why are you here? No girl wanted to fuck you tonight?” you asked him, more aggressively than you hoped to be. He didn’t seem to take offense to this, in fact, he looked pleased with your question, his eyebrows raised and his head cocked to one side, playfully. “Oh no, plenty of them wanted to. I just couldn’t stop thinking about you though.” You scoffed at him, and how he could ever think something like that would work on you after what he had done. Feeling more and more brave as seconds passed, maybe because of how hot you were feeling, maybe because he just made you feel that way, you took your seatbelt off and turned yourself fully to him, your legs crossed on top of the seat. Charles’ eyes travelled up and down your body, examining every inch of it as his mouth twisted in a small, almost unnoticeable grin. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you either, Charles. And how much of a fucking idiot you are,” you replied, crossing your arms across your chest, trying to hide as much of yourself as you could, for in this moment you were sure he could read your every movement as well as you could read his.

“Thought about you during the whole race, too” he continued, and you would have assumed he ignored you were it not clear that he was lost in his own thoughts, busy examining not your words but your actions. “About how good you looked” he got closer as he spoke, his hands sliding across your seat as his eyes looked absolutely dazed. “About why you were there with some guy” he finished, his hand caressing your face, his thumb soft on your lips. He pulled your lower lip as if to call for your attention, then quickly distanced himself from you in a purposefully fake stretching motion. “So, if you want me to apologize for winning, I won’t.”

You didn’t know if he was referring to the race, or to this exact moment, where he surely realized he still had impact on you with a single look and a slight touch. You didn’t know if he thought he had won against your or Oscar, but it did not matter. It didn’t matter that you and Oscar were barely more than friends, and that the two of you were clearly just enjoying each other’s company – mostly because Charles didn’t know that, and he didn’t need to know it as long as it got him on his nerves.

“Funny because, last time I checked I went to his room, not yours” you snapped back. It was your turn now, to back him into a corner. You said this with such confidence you were sure that it sounded like “it was him I fucked” in Charles’ head. Taking your chance to make it even better, you leaned across him, your hand on his thigh, so close to his face, only to pretend to take something from his door. Gloating at your own success at making him completely helpless, you barely had time to register his hands on your neck, pulling you harshly towards him as his lips met yours.

If your kiss had previously been messy and hungry, this one was aggressive and assertive, both of you letting out your frustrations and desires through lip bites and pulling fistfuls of each other’s hair.

At that point, all you could feel were his hands on your waist, lifting you towards his lap. Wrapping your hands around his neck, you complied and sat easily almost never breaking the kiss.

Suddenly, he pulled away, a grin splattered across his swollen lips. “You look so beautiful like that” he whispered dizzily, as you grew more and more frustrated at his sudden pauses. He laughed to himself proudly as he looked at you, and before you could process it – in fact, you couldn’t, your mind was filled with tortuous lust – you realized what the source of his amusement lay. He was looking at your erratic movements on his thigh, how your arousal seemed to have possessed you so immensely that you couldn’t help yourself any longer. You blushed and buried your hands on your face with sheer embarrassment over how quickly your façade faded away.

Carefully, yet with unmistakable darkness, almost as if a totally different person now, Charles pulled your hands away and leaned towards you. “Don’t stop” was all he said, but it caused a small cry to escape your lips as you felt his hand on your hip, guiding your movements. His other hand grabbed your chin gently, making you face him.

It was both embarrassing and mesmerizing, how he seemed so composed and collected, and how you were falling apart completely. You never realized how much you needed him, how badly you craved his touch and the particular way his lips travelled across your skin. From your face, his hand lowered itself to your neck, grabbing it with just enough strength to make you more lightheaded than you already were. You sobbed with pleasure as you looked at him, holding his gaze as your hips moved frantically against his leg, a dizzy smile spreading across your lips.

You would speak if you could, but nothing left your lips apart from Charles’ name accompanied by breathy moans. He, however, seemed to love that, how you lost all of your composure for him exclusively, while he tried his best to keep his own. He could feel how wet you were through your underwear and his own sweatpants, your skirt allowing for less fabric to be in the way of your own pleasure. “Si jolie… et tout à moi” he whispered, taking advantage of your not so extensive knowledge of French to say things he wasn’t capable of saying in English despite his usual comfortability with himself. He wanted you for himself, in such a way that just you pleasuring yourself on him was enough for him to feel utterly drunk with ecstasy and lust, knowing that as soon as he was alone he would jerk himself off desperately to the sight of your open mouth, half closed eyes and flushed cheeks, to the sound of your voice crying out his name in moans of ecstasy, and to the feeling of your wet cunt on his thigh.

This was both your prize and punishment: your presence had given him more drive to win, to show you how he would always be better than anyone you might try to have, but it had also bothered him in ways he never knew he could be irritated. He tried so hard to ignore you, to not break the promise once again, but you always had a way to show up and ruin all of his plans and mess with his head, especially by being oh so close to Oscar.

You couldn’t stop. His skin caressed yours with satin textured touches, so characteristically his in their intensity. And although he seemed a bit more aggressive, possessive even, as he clearly insisted on your full focus on him, mental and physical, you have never felt so aroused. You were all his, both still dressed but both feeling as intimate as if you were bare naked before each other. His sweatpants left little to the imagination, and his throbbing erection filled you with fervor. Your movements against his thigh intensified, less rhythmic and more desperate. He looked hypnotized by you, consumed by something deeper than lust, more intense than sheer desire, and the view you had before you combined with how good you were feeling caused your hands to fly to his shoulders, your face buried in his neck as your whole body erupted in pleasure and melted into his.

You couldn’t deny the fact that you were still angry at him, but you were also too tired, too confused and overall too incoherent to start a fight. With him, you always were, and this is how he won. With the foggy windows of the Ferrari and the feeling of his hands on your hair lulling you to sleep.

He won because when you opened your eyes next morning, you were in a bed which wasn’t yours, wearing only an oversized t-shirt. You looked around, confused as to where you were, flashbacks of the previous night clouding your vision.

On the bedside table, a note read “You’re at mine’s. I slept on the sofa. Text me when you wake up – C.” You look at your phone to check the time – 12:13pm. You also see a notification on your screen.

Oscar: u got home safe? (10:34am)

#finally here!!#hope u like it!!#charles leclerc #f1 #f1blr #f1 fandom #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #formula 1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #smut #f1 smut #oscar piastri

709 notes · View notes

yumeka-sxf · 29 days

Text

I try to stay away from negative topics, but after hearing talk on social media yesterday and seeing this post from @such-a-downer, I just had to give my two cents about the complaints regarding yesterday's chapter being "another short mission" and that Endo is somehow being "lazy" or whatever.

I honestly don't understand this mentality of criticizing manga-ka, or any artists really, because they aren't delivering by whatever standards you personally think are appropriate. To me, it just seems like entitlement because Endo has no obligation to cater to any specific fan's wants. This is his story to tell the way he wants, and his characters to develop at the pace he deems fit. This isn't a business contract where we're paying him to deliver content we want every two weeks without fail. If I'm consuming the fruits of someone's creative labor for free, I certainly feel no right to complain if sometimes their content isn't what I wanted or expected. I'm fine with that because 1) I know it's what they (the creator) wanted/needed at the time, and 2) even if a particular chapter wasn't my cup of tea, I know other fellow fans out there somewhere are enjoying the heck out of it, and that's cool!

We also have to remember that SxF is basically a one-man show. If Endo is busy or sick or whatever, it's not like he can have someone fill in for him to write and draw the series. That's what a hiatus is for, that's what making a short chapter instead of a longer one is for...that's how artists should be treated so they don't get burned out and stressed. Plus, art shouldn't be rushed. Any artist knows that there are times when you have trouble coming up with ideas and maybe need a little extra time to develop a more complex section of the story. To immediately jump to conclusions that he's lazy or doesn't know what he's doing is ridiculous. Maybe he didn't feel good for a few days, maybe he's been busy with other SxF events, maybe he just needed more time to get a particular future arc developed, or maybe he just has basic IRL obligations to take care of like we all do...you don't know what's going on in his life, so don't make assumptions.

Another thing to keep in mind is that it's literally impossible to please every fan. One of the comments I read for example, someone was ready to drop the series because we haven't seen much of Yor in "a while." All I could think of was "didn't she just have a pretty big role only four chapters ago when they went to the ski resort?" Plus she was the star of chapter 91, which was less than ten chapters ago. So according to this person's standards, four chapters without seeing a particular character is "too long"? What if it was only three chapters, would that be acceptable? It's not right to push our own personal standards of a series' pacing as the "correct" way: some people want to see more of character X while someone else wants to see more of subplot Y, so should both complain that the manga-ka isn't doing right whenever they focus on something else? I'm not saying you shouldn't make criticisms of a manga-ka's work, but the criticisms should come from within the narrative itself, not superficial things like chapters focusing on subplots/characters you don't want to see or not having enough "plot-advancing" content when it's not a plot-focused series.

People who have read SxF up to this point should know the general flow of the chapters: mostly slice-of-life episodic, with more plot-heavy, intense arcs once in a while, like the cruise arc and bus arc. It's an ensemble series that spends most of its chapters focused on at least one of the Forgers, but occasionally other characters here and there. That's how the series has been for years and will likely continue to be. So if you keep complaining because you only like the dramatic story arcs and not the "nothing happens" episodic chapters, then maybe the series just isn't for you. It's totally fine if that's the case, but don't act like Endo is doing something wrong because he's not providing the particular thing you want in his story.

To summarize, Endo has no obligation to cater to particular fans' standards, just as we have no obligation to keep reading his work if we don't like it. But being a fan to me means respecting the creator's pace and vision even if it's not always what I personally want. I can find something to enjoy in every chapter because I'm a fan of SxF, not a fan of one particular aspect of it. But I also will not complain every time my tastes aren't being catered to and will simply occupy myself with other things while I wait. What's the big hurry, after all? I'm in no rush for SxF to wrap up its plot and I'm glad Endo isn't rushing either.

And that's all I'm gonna say about this topic, lol. On a happier note, I'm going to finally see Code White on Thursday! 😁 More to come later~

#spy x family #sxf #spy family #spyxfamily #sxf manga #sxf manga spoilers #sxf spoilers

204 notes · View notes

elliereject · 1 month

Text

ifhy .1

* in which ellie’s obsession relationship with you begins to sour as your romance with your new boyfriend seems to flourish. it seems she’ll stop at nothing to ensure your happiness, (which you’ll find with her, obviously) even if it means hurting you in the process.

* lowkey obsessive ellie, (I LIKE EM’ A LITTLE CRAZY!), angst + comfort (next chapter(s), infidelity, unrequited feelings yet also mutual pining (just read it like, idk idk I forgot how to do these),lmk if I missed anything!

* im back, ok not really this has been rotting in my drafts forever and I was reading it back and I was like damn I lowk cooked with this. It’s unfinished as of RN but this is only 1/3 of the fic im just splitting it up so u don’t have to wait months,,for it..like my other fics..DONT ASK ME ABT THOSE, cuz I don’t got an answer. IN THE MEAN TIME ENJOY THIS! <3

* mdni (but like if u do wtvr, nothing crazy happens in this chapter)

wc ~ 1.6k

pt. 2 here

Ellie Williams fucking hated you.

Surprisingly, she didn’t at first. In fact, she was in love with you, bordering infatuation.

She had seen you for the first time at the local bookstore before the semester started, you were flipping through a book about time and relativity with a concentrated look on your face. She smiled to herself when she saw you push up onto your toes to reach for another book but to no avail. She took this as an opportunity to walk up to you and reach over your head to grab it, making sure to flex her lean, tattooed arm before placing it in your hand.

Her jade eyes locked on yours and your face heated immediately, you mumbled a “Thank you.” Before scurrying past her to the checkout.

Imagine her surprise when on the first day of classes, she walks into her astrophysics course and sees you, doodling in your notebook with that same concentrated look on your face.

Of course, she sits next to you, flashing that charming smile that has sweat gathering at your hands. She tells you her name then asks for yours and learns about your major, favourite course, and how you’re staying in a little apartment just outside the campus before more students and your professor filed in. You didn’t know why but you just felt so comfortable telling her things, She laughed at your corny jokes and made even cornier ones, and she admired the doodles that covered your notebook and the little duck pen you used.

You didn’t want to speak too soon, but it was safe to say you were harbouring a tiny bit of a crush on her.

Ellie on the other hand, was completely ready to admit it. She felt her love for you grow each second she was around you. Your smile quite literally felt like the sun shining upon her, your laugh made her want to drop her studies of space to pick up stand-up comedy just so she could make it her job to make you laugh. In her eyes, everything you did was perfect. Her thoughts were completely consumed by you, you, you.

And for a few months, things were amazing! You had been introduced to Dina and Jesse and even spent Halloween hanging out with the trio watching horror movies and eating each other's weight in candy. When the holidays rolled around you and Ellie, along with the others, cozied up under some blankets and made fun of cheesy Hallmark movies while she tried her hardest not to interlock her hands with yours even after your pinky brushed against hers for the sixth time.

During finals, Ellie and you organized designated study days that usually ended in giggling at stupid memes on each other's phones or late-night food runs. Of course, there were lingering touches and flirtatious glances here and there but you were too shy to act on it and Ellie would rather die than make you uncomfortable so she kept you just at arm's length. Besides, she knew you were too timid to approach anyone else, so in a way she had you all to herself.

Then, you met him. Some motherfucker whose name she didn’t care to remember. However, she did remember the innate feeling of anger that surged through her body when you gushed to her about him and how he was a history major and the way his glasses framed his face perfectly and whatever the fuck else you found interesting about him.

She nodded and laughed and smiled along with you when you would drone on about him but would excuse herself to the bathroom to tend to the crescent-shaped wounds in her palms from digging her fingers into them so hard.

She tried her best to not show these negative emotions to you because she knew how much you didn’t like when she got mad but fuck was it hard. Especially that one night when you were out with him and you hadn’t replied to her texts in over 5 hours. Man did her drywall take some damage that night.

And when you finally did reply you had completely disregarded her message and went on to boast about the time you had and how gentlemanly he was. All she could do was reply with a dry “sounds like fun🙂” before she went back to throwing a tantrum around her room and tormenting that poor wall…she’d have to remember to buy some spackle before the end of the semester.

Then, there was the time she trekked over to your apartment with some pizza for a surprise movie night and saw the bouquet placed in front of your door. She set the box down to pick up the flowers and read who it was from, her body reacted before she could rethink. She tore the flowers from the beautifully wrapped packaging and stomped on them over and over and over until all that was left were broken stems and tattered petals.

Thankfully, you got home just a few minutes later and missed her outburst. You gasped when you saw the smashed flowers and asked her what had happened, she shrugged and lied easily, claiming it was like this when she got there. She let out a breath when you shook your head and sighed, saying it was probably your next-door neighbor who had always been a bit of a grouch.

She had genuinely thought she was doing a pretty good job of hiding her true feelings for both you and him but it was when you gleefully announced that he was officially your boyfriend she knew she was done for. You squealed and pulled her in for a hug but it felt like her heart had shriveled up into a clump of black coal and woosh like magic, her love for you had turned into something twisted, something possessive.

It was when you invited her over to your apartment to eat dinner with him that she had started considering the idea that you knew she had a crush on you and you were just fucking with her emotions for fun.

How could you start dating, let alone seeing some random ass motherfucker when she was right here! She knew she could treat you better than he could even dream of, she knew everything about you and she’d make it known to you how perfect she was for you, one way or another.

That night at dinner she sat uncomfortably as you fluttered around your tiny kitchen, adding last-minute touches to the spaghetti you made and despite the grumble in her tummy it felt like she had no appetite when she watched the hungry way he looked at you, as if you were a juicy steak and he was a starved wolf.

Once you were finished plating the food and placing it on the table you sat down eagerly and tried your best to mediate the obvious tension.

“Soo uh, Ellie, you’ve been really into watercolour recently right?” You beamed.

“Uh-huh.” She said dryly, twirling her spaghetti around her fork.

“Oh that’s cool, you know watercolour as an art form has been around since Egyptian times! It’s funny to think that like—Cleopatra was painting with water and grapes or something!” He spoke and you giggled like it was the funniest joke in the world. She shot you a look that said really? because she knows she could make a joke that was way funnier, and would expel your real laugh.

“That’s cool. You know how to shut the fuck up?” She mumbled into her bite of spaghetti.

“Sorry?” He asked and you gave her a sideways glance.

She smiled tightly and swallowed before answering, “Just said that’s cool!”

Dinner dragged on as he droned about the history of the Renaissance or fucking Christopher Columbus, she didn’t actually know, she tuned him out. After you cleared the plates, you ushered them into your cozy living room for a movie and when you excused yourself to the bathroom she plopped down on the couch next to him, subtly pulling out her switchblade.

“So, Kevin—“

“Actually my name—“

“I don’t give a fuck what your name is, matter fact I don’t give a fuck about you in general. What are your intentions with ★?”

The man tensed up as Ellie expertly spun the blade around in her fingers.

“Uh—I mean, she seems cool and dating her has been pr—“

“Cool?” Ellie scoffed, “She’s fucking perfect, and I hope you know whatever you have going on with her right now? It won’t last. Soon she’s gonna see you for the limp-ass motherfucker you are.”

He was taken aback, “What?—I’m sorry, did I do something to offend you?”

“Your whole existence offends me.” She rasped, inching her blade closer to his neck. “She’s not meant to be with you.”

He furrowed his brows, “You like her, don’t you?”

Ellie rolled her eyes, “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

Before he could reply you were back from the bathroom and she slipped her blade back into her pocket and got up with a firm grip on his shoulder.

“What were you two talking about?” You asked as you grabbed a bag of chips from your small coffee table and tore into them.

“Oh you know, girl talk.” She smiled, digging her blunt nails into his shoulder. Translation: don’t say a fucking word.

You rolled your eyes playfully like you even had a clue of what was going on, “He’s not a girl, dumbass.”

She shrugged, stepping away from her previous seat to plop down on the other small sofa.

The rest of the night proceeded relatively smoothly, your boyfriend had been so shaken up by Ellie’s words that even with you sitting next to him he kept his distance with worried glances toward Ellie now and then. Ellie crunched on her popcorn happily and watched the movie with a satisfied smile and a chipper aura.

— ★

🤔 shall I put out the second part? only time (and interactivity! 💝 pls don’t let this flop) will tell!

#ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie angst #ellie au #ellie fic #ellie fluff #ellie smut #ellie x reader #jealousellie #tlou fanfiction #tlou

198 notes · View notes

emeritusemeritus · 4 months

Text

No Good Deeds [George Weasley x Reader]

Part 5

Part 1 2 3 4 5

Pairing: {George Weasley x Reader} mentions of previous Fred Weasley x Reader.

Timeline: Set a few years after DH, loosely following Canon.

Summary: A few years after Fred’s death, the investors of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes demand changes to the name. All it would take is two years of a fake marriage to fix the issues, but no good deed goes unpunished.

Warnings: Fake marriage trope because we love the cliché. Mentions of death (Fred). Friends to lovers. Slow burn but mentions of kissing and eventual smut. Swearing. George calls us Angel. Drinking. SMUT. The smut has arrived! P in V, oral (both). Angst, sadness, grief. Tags will be updated with each chapter. Not Beta-read or spell checked.

Honeymoon time 💕

Your wedding to George was a jubilant celebration with your family and friends, a chance to bask in the love you were so thankful to receive from everyone around you. You'd honoured Fred in many ways that day, including photos of him, an empty chair with his name on and many other little ways to make it seem like he was there. You'd noticed George had worn his chain under his suit shirt and the sight of it made butterflies flutter inside you.

It was a small and quaint wedding that had admittedly been rushed in planning, only two weeks after you'd announced your engagement, but it was perfect. No one had doubted your intentions and the day had gone completely to plan, except for the regular hiccups that seem to occur when a group of people are brought together. Muriel had been characteristically foul as usual and had clashed with your great aunt Ariadne though she'd avoided the more triggering topics which was one consolation.

You danced with your friends and your now blended family late into the night, with George eventually stealing you back from dancing with Bill for one final dance.

"Have you had a good day Mrs Weasley?" He asks, holding you close as you sway with surprising grace even with the healthy amount of alcohol you'd both consumed.

"The best, Mr Weasley," you beam up at him, his handsomeness once again hitting you as you look upon his smiling face.

"Couldn't have asked for better. I don't think you've ever looked more beautiful."

The night you'd spent together had not been repeated since, nor had you really spoken about it. There was a lingering tension between you, growing increasingly stronger throughout the day as you thought of your wedding night and honeymoon, the anticipation almost consuming you.

Ginny and Fleur had whisked you away from George not long after your final dance to get you ready to leave for your honeymoon, which you'd be departing for very soon. It was tradition in the Weasley family to immediately begin your honeymoon the night of the wedding and you had readily accepted the chance to exit out of the wedding a little earlier into the night, giving you and George some time alone.

You'd chosen to honeymoon in the U.K. to keep costs down, after all this whole situation was based upon George reclaiming the shop as sole owner and any unnecessary spending would only increase the amount of time you'd be married. Bill and Fleur had graciously offered for you to stay in Shell Cottage with them but George had instead chosen to surprise you with your destination. He'd tactfully evaded every single one of your questions, relishing in his power of knowledge but had thankfully given you a few clues as to what you should pack. Clothes for all weather, from hot to bitter cold, a couple of 'nice' outfits and a bathing suit. So, nothing to really go off.

Percy had arranged a ministry car for you to borrow for the week, his gift for you both and you'd decided to travel like muggles for the week, taking your time and only using magic when necessary. George was driving to your destination, the luggage and travel necessities having been packed up earlier that day by the Weasley boys and Harry.

The crowd cheered as you both walked towards the car that was waiting for you, your family and friends gathered around with jubilant faces as you walked hand in hand towards the car. You both paused to thank and embrace Mr and Mrs Weasley before climbing into the car, George opening the door for you before getting in on his side. You waved at the gathering of people in front of you as George pulled away and as you pulled away from the Burrow, you peered through the back window, squirming around the freshly painted 'just married' sign to see your loved ones fading further away as they carried on the party.

"Are you okay?" George asks gently as he drives out of Ottery St Catchpole, the rolling Devonshire fields passing you by as the sun begins to set.

"I'm... incredible, I don't think there are words for how I'm feeling," you say with a wide smile, giggling a little at your inability to get your words out. He chuckles and reaches for your hand, pulling it onto the gear stick to join his.

"I know what you mean, I feel like I'm floating," he says, flashing you a smile before turning his attention back to the road. You take the opportunity of his attention being elsewhere to really look at him, the plains of his face looking unbelievably handsome to you. He looked stunning in his suit, the colour and cut of the material only serving as a compliment to his gorgeous red hair and sharp features.

"Checking me out Mrs Weasley?" He says with a smirk, eyes still fixed on the road. You fight to hide the creeping blush that appears on your cheeks, realising that he'd caught you staring. You bite your lip and turn away, choosing to look out of the window at the rolling hills instead. "You can you know, I'm yours now."

You turn to look at him and the smile he has plastered on his face fills you with warmth and nervous excitement.

"You look so handsome, I feel like I can't take my eyes off you," you admit, a little bashfully.

He gives a deep chuckle and squeezes your hand that is still held by his own.

"You have no idea how hard it is to drive right now, all I want to do is stare at you," he admits, though he sounds completely unashamed of his words. You blush and look away again, this time out of pure bliss, wanting to remember everything about this moment.

"Get some sleep Angel, it's quite a drive," he says softly a few minutes later, turning down the radio that was playing music in the background.

"I'm okay," you lightly protest, despite feeling relaxed by the drive. "I wish I'd taken this dress off though, not the best travelling outfit."

"And take that joy away from me? How dare you," he jokes, sounding a little outraged. Your stomach instantly fills with nerves and butterflies at his words; he intended to take your dress off.

You fell asleep a short while later, just as the last slither of sunlight had disappeared into the horizon, the long stretch of road ahead now only lit by car lights and the faint cats eyes on the ground. The mixture of the low humming from the radio, the gentle rocking of the car and the presence of George was enough to lull you into a much needed sleep as you cuddled into a pillow you'd thought to pack, wishing that you were wearing something much less restrictive but that couldn't be helped.

When you woke again, it was still pitch black and George was still driving, the car lights ahead of you the only clue to where you were.

"Hi Angel," George says, noticing you staring as he briefly looks over at you with a smile.

"Mmm, hi Georgie," you mumble back, still fighting off the last embers of sleep. "Where are we?"

"Nice try," he says, not falling at the last hurdle and you give a little huff, hoping that one would have worked. "About an hour away."

"Is there time to stop for a coffee somewhere?" You ask, sitting straighten in your seat as you abandon the pillow into your lap.

"I don't know anywhere that would be open," he says, flicking his eyes to the dashboard clock, prompting you to do so and realising that it was now past midnight, much to your surprise.

"McDonald's will be," you say with a little shrug, trying to see any hints from signposts as to where you were of where the next services would be.

"McDonald's?" He asks, completely oblivious and you can't help but laugh, never having thought about how the notion of 24 hour fast food had not yet entered the wizarding world, making George completely oblivious.

"It's a 24 hour restaurant, usually around road services, it's fast food," you explain. He immediately gets it and let's out a little 'ahhh' of understanding, telling you that there was a services coming up and you could check if there was one there. There was.

Introducing George Weasley to drive-through ordering was nothing short of hilarious and you'd briefly lamented the fact that his first McDonald's experience wouldn't be inside an actual McDonald's building but you were not about to enter a fast food joint at a service station in a wedding dress. You'd both ordered a coffee, yourself a medium coke and then you had excitedly introduced him to not only a Big Mac but also chicken nuggets, both of which were a complete revelation to him and you had to hold back serious giggles at his reactions. Half an hour later and you were on your way, coffees in hand and belly's a little fuller as you prepared for the last part of your journey.

"Are you sure you don't want me to take over? I don't mind driving to give you a break," you offered as you watch him put on his seatbelt.

"You don't know where we're going," he says with a devilish smirk but you feign innocence.

"Then just tell me and I'll get us there," you say innocently, batting your eyelashes at him.

"Nice try baby," he says with an even more sinister smirk, his eyes roaming your face briefly before he turns on the car and begins to pull away after one last sip of coffee.

You were transfixed as George turned right up a long winding path entirely shielded by trees, the long road leading you deeper under the canopy of trees until you were completely surrounded by woodland. You could make out a small, warm light at the end of the long road and became transfixed on the approaching light, trying to focus your eyes hard on that point, trying to make sense of it. The car swerved a little to avoid a large twig in the road which brought your destination into clear view.

You gasped at the beauty of the scene in front of you, looking excitedly at George who looked more than pleased at your reaction.

"George," you say breathlessly as he parks up in the little clearing beside the place you'd be staying.

It was a rustic log cabin, completely shielded away from everything by a large canopy of trees, a beautiful escape completely hidden away from the outside world. The cabin was almost entirely made of wood with wooden shutters and a wrap around deck.

"George it's beautiful," you say, completely gobsmacked as you look at the gorgeous lodge in front of you, seeing it illuminated by the multiple lanterns that offered a stark contrast against the pitch black night.

"Only the best for my bride," he teases, opening up his car door, prompting you to do the same.

"Want to explore whilst I unload the car?" He asks with a grin, holding the keys to the cabin out in front of you, the little wooden keyring clinking against the two old fashioned keys. You nod enthusiastically and reach out to grab them, pulling George in and without much thought, you leaned up to press a kiss to his lips. Instantly, you realised what you'd done and took a step back, blushing a little as you avoided his gaze. His hand had instinctively wrapped around your back and he gave your back a little rub as you parted, showing no ill will as you turned and walked excitedly towards the cabin.

Opening the door, you were immediately met with an illuminated room thanks to the warm lighting from multiple lamps and light fixtures. The cabin was warm, as if there was a log fire already burning and the smell was heavenly, clean and fresh but with an indisputable scent of wood and pine, a natural consequence of it's idyllic surroundings. You walked through a little entrance hall that houses a utility room before stepping into an open living room, dining room and kitchen, all of which were warm and inviting with natural wood features throughout and neutral colours, highlighting the windows which you knew would almost certainly have beautiful views in the morning. There were two brown leather sofas that looked absolutely lush and a single armchair underneath a window that looked perfect for reading, a tall lamp beside it and a little table for drinks. There was a television and a cabinet in the corner and beside that was a beautiful log burner that was indeed lit, radiating heat throughout the home. You couldn't see much through the side door that was half glass but the outside light did illuminate the decking a little, highlighting a rather impressive sunken hot tub that was covered, eliciting a little excited squeal from you.

You walked down a small corridor that led off from the main atrium through a beautifully carved wooden door with an old metal latch which led you to the bathroom on the left and two bedrooms. You crept into the bathroom to take a peak and saw a big bathtub to the left and a built in shower to the right, as if every need was catered for. One bedroom has two single beds partitioned with a beautiful shelving unit and the other bedroom was almost certainly the master.

There was a huge four poster bed against the back wall bookended by two beside tables with lamps that looked entirely too inviting. The bedding was sheer white and completely crease free, only adding to its appeal. There was a smaller television in here too, along with a dressing table and a large, ornate wardrobe that looked older than the cabin itself.

"What do you think Mrs Weasley?" George asks from behind you as you pause to run your hand over the ornately carved bed frame. You turn to see him leaning against the doorframe with a smirk, still wearing his wedding suit but now with his tie removed and a few buttons open near his collar.

"I think it's absolutely beautiful Mr Weasley," you reply, turning to him with a look of pure elation.

"Just like my wife then," he says with a look in his eyes that makes your pulse race. He steps towards you with clear conviction and it's all you can do not to melt into a puddle, the look in his eye so dangerously arousing that you're almost frozen to the spot. It was the first time he'd called you his wife and the reaction that it pulled from your body was almost unbelievable, the sound of it almost heavenly in your mind.

As soon as he reaches you, there's a brief pause as if he's searching your face for any hint of resistance, not that he'd find any. When he sees the look in your eye, knowing that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you, he steps even closer and wraps his hand around the back of your neck before leaning down and kissing you with a burning passion.

Your hands slip up to his chest, feeling the material of his lapels under your fingers and pull slightly, needing to feel him as close to you as possible as you pull his jacket off. His fingers tangle in your hair as the kiss deepens, tongues working together to fuel the burning desire between you both.

With his right hand cradling your head and his left clutching as your waist, he begins leading you to the side of the bed, silently asking if it was okay to go further.

"Make love to me George," you say against his lips, hardly wanting to pull away for even a second. You hear him groan against your lips before his hand slips from your hair and down to your butt, cradling you and taking your weight. In a move that would otherwise impress you if you'd seen it in person, he sweeps you off your feet whilst climbing onto the bed and lays you down softly before climbing over you, kicking off his shoes in the process.

"I've waited all day to rip this dress off of you," he mumbles against your skin as he begins kissing down your neck, onto your bare shoulders where your dress straps began, the soft layers of the gown suddenly feeling much too restrictive as your skin burnt up with desire. He kisses down your chest as your hands tangle in his slightly grown out hair. There's a single moment where your eyes meet, just as he hovers over your panting cleavage and it takes your breath away how absolutely sexy he looks, the desire and admiration in his eyes mirroring your own. His long fingers drag against your rib cage as they dance over to your covered breasts before he reaches in to pull down the cup of dress, exposing your right breast to him, your dusky pink nipple already hard and waiting for him. He groans, watching your breast spring free and immediately bends down to run his tongue over the pebbled nipple, eliciting a deep, breathy moan from you before his lips wrap about the little bud and begin sucking. You moan out again, throwing your head back into the pillows at the overwhelming sensation and suddenly you feel the whole atmosphere change. There's no trepidation anymore, no resistance or questioning but rather just a primal urge between both of you.

You can tell that George is feeling for the opening your dress so you divert his fingers to the small, concealed zipper on the side and help him drag it down, much too slowly for your liking. He pulls away the dress after you slip your arms out and you watch carefully as his mouth slips open to a little 'o' shape as he pulls the dress from your body, exposing you completely to his gaze. You couldn't wear a bra with your dress thanks to the unique straps but you had thought you buy a tiny white lace thong that you'd had embroidered with a little 'W' on the left side of the crotch, knowing it would either make him laugh or make him growl. Luckily for you, it was most certainly the latter as he groaned as he spotted it, momentarily fixated on your naked breasts that were exposed completely for his view, his eyes travelling down your body with acute precision before he eventually noticed your little customisation. He groans and leans down to press a kiss directly to where the 'W' was situated, just above your mound and you can't help but squirm as the sensation of having him so close to where you needed him. He notices, of course he does, and his eyes flick up to yours with a look of pure mischief as he begins kissing the inside of your thigh and across your bikini line, teasing you. You groan and can't help but roll your hips as he flutters kisses everywhere apart from where you need them.

"My beautiful wife needs something?" He teases, acting completely oblivious when you knew he was very aware.

"Please George," you beg, "need you."

Like a switch had been flicked in George's mind, his long fingers begin tracing your pussy through the very thin and nearly transparent lace, groaning once again when he feels the wetness seeping through the lace. You feel his fingers hook into the side of your thong, catching your labia with a little stroke before he pulls them away from your burning pussy, exposing you completely to his view. He wastes no time and leans down, licking a long stripe across your pussy, catching your swollen clit with the til of his tongue in the most perfect way that has you gasping and moaning.

"Fuck you taste good, so sweet," he whines into your pussy, resting his forehead against your mound for a moment before he slips down again, this time licking you with vigour. "So wet baby."

His tongue is everywhere, delicately stroking and teasing whilst also hitting every spot you need him in perfectly. It's a perfect juxtaposition between his igniting a fire inside of you, making you burn with desire and pure torment whilst also extinguishing the flames with his tongue. As soon as his finger traces your inner lips as it moves down, gently pressing into your waiting hole before he slips one of his long, deft fingers inside of you, you're gone. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, hips rising of their own accord as you grope your breasts, completely consumed by your pleasure. He slips a second finger into you as you cry out, fucking yourself on his fingers as he circles your clit with his tongue, putting pressure on the left side just as he's discovered drives you crazy.

"George, George!" You chant as you feel the beginning of your orgasm rising in you very quickly, consuming you and burning you from the inside out. Your pussy is drenched and you can feel more arousal gushing from you as your climax crests, George's own moans ringing out in your mind as he pushes you over the edge. It's like you're falling, the crescendo of light and burning arousal overtaking your whole body and mind, the only capable thought in your mind is of George. He licks you slowly as you come down, careful to avoid your sensitive clit as he laps up your cum, fingers still slowly fucking you bath and forth with gentle strokes, extending your pleasure.

You gasp to catch your breath, chest rising and falling rapidly as your heart pounds, the effects of your orgasm still lingering as you feel a tingle across your whole body. It takes all of ten seconds for you to focus your attention back to George who has pulled his fingers out of you and began kissing your inner thigh again, soothing you as you return to him.

You sit up and reach for him, pulling him on top of you as you kiss him feverishly, moaning as you taste yourself on his lips. He notices and groans deeply against your lips, almost growling as you lick at his lips, desperate for a taste. You claw at his shirt, desperate to even out your nudity and feel his skin against yours and as if he can sense the sheer desperation, reaches down and completely rips the front of his shirt, the flying and falling buttons only an afterthought as you fight to get the shredded shirt away from his body. Your hands slip to his smooth shoulders and down his back as you kiss him desperately, pulling his tongue into your mouth so you can suck on it, relishing in his deep groans and little whines. Your hands rest on his collarbones as you slowly pull away from him, pushing him slightly until he realises was you want. You overpower him with just enough force that he rolls onto his back as you immediately latch to his chest, kissing and biting as you make your way down to your destination.

His suit trousers are completely tented, the sheer size an excitement of him almost intimidating to you as you fight to open the fastenings of his trousers. You don't wait even a moment after they are open to slide them down his hips, along with his black boxer briefs until he was completely bare, except from his sentimental chain and your wedding rings. You crawl back up the bed after throwing aside his bottoms and flick your eyes up to see his own desperate look as you come face to face with his rather impressive member. His lips are parted and he looks completely desperate as he watches you carefully, silently pleading for you to take his aching length in your mouth. You grant him reprieve almost instantly, licking straight from the crest of his balls to the engorged tip of his cock, tracing the throbbing vein on the underside of his cock, following the gentle curve. He cries out at the contact and it makes you want to do everything in your power to hear it over and over again.

You gave into him completely, taking his tip in your mouth and licking all around, earning another heavenly noise from him before you sucked in your cheeks and bobbed up and down his length, taking him deeper and deeper with each fall; never stopping your tongue from running along the length of him. You were addicted to him, the taste, the weight of his length against your tongue, the feel of his smooth skin against your lips. You fought to go further with each bob, sucking him down like the most delicious treat from Honeydukes, giving everything you could.

George was moaning mess before you, desperately searching for any part of your body he could reach as he fought to stop his hips from rising each time you'd pull off, like he never wanted to leave your hot, wet mouth. Sweet names, curses and a load more expletives fell from his mouth as you pleasured him until he reached out, leaning forward to pull you closer to him.

You were dripping, more aroused than ever and so desperate for him to fill you that it was all you could think about. He pauses, looking at the little strip of lace that was still misplaced, concealing nothing of yourself and ripped the thin strings on the sides, tearing it away from your body, both of you complete bare to the other's gaze.

It was so intimate and intense that it stole the breath from your lungs, just how adoringly he was gazing at you. His hand grabbed around your neck, holding your face and threading into your hair as he kissed you completely without abandon, your chests pressed together as your leg slipped between his, desperately seeking friction.

"Ride me baby," he mumbles against your lips and as if acting directly on command, you comply. You lift your hips and straddle him, his narrow hips allowing your thighs to rest against his comfortably as your centres align, the heat and sensitivity joining together to make you both gasp.

He reaches down and holds his perfect cock at the bottom, ready for you to climb onto and you can hardly contain your cries as you slowly sink down, feeling him stretching you out. He pulls his hand away, moaning at the sensation as his hand rests on your bum, the large hand and long fingers wrapping around your bum and thigh.

It's sinful how well he stretches you out, filling you completely without any pain or discomfort, like you'd been moulded perfectly for his cock alone.

When your hips rise again and you sink back down, this time much more confidently, your head flips back at the sensation. George grunts and tightens his grip on you as you slowly begin to ride him, hips undulating and breasts bouncing as you fall into a perfect rhythm. Your hair fans out across your back and you've never felt sexier in that moment, feeling adored under his gaze and praised by not only his words but also his moans and growls.

You're both so worked up, so perfectly in sync that you can hardly contain yourself, not even caring to try and hold off the impending climax that threatens you, creeping up slowly until it's impossible to resist. You can feel your walls clenching around him, your arousal peaking as it leaks out around his cock and you're rewarded with the most incredible moans that spill from his lips at the sensation.

"George, Georgie I'm gonna," you stagger, completely breathless as you keep riding him, finding the perfect spot and movement so that he hits every single pleasure point inside you.

"Cum Angel, fuck, cum around my cock," he pants, groaning and tightening his grip on your hips as he fucks up into you. "Godric you're tight, perfect little pussy squeezing my cock so good. Cum for me Angel."

You chant his name as the heat of your second orgasm consumes you, never once stopping as you bounce on his cock. He takes over fucking up into you as you ride out your climax, filling you completely as he shoves his entire length into you before pulling almost completely out and repeating the motion. You're in complete bliss, overwhelmingly so, and can hardly stop tears of overstimulation brimming at your eyes, blurring your vision only slightly. George lets out a roar as he cums, fucking up into you with a brutal pace that is sinful at best. His hands pull you close to him, bruises forming under his grip but it's perfect.

His thrust stop slowly as he comes down from his high, riding out the last of his pleasure as he pulls you down to rest on him, softening cock slipping out at the angle. You breathe deeply as you feel the evidence of his pleasure slipping out of you slowly, trickling down until it dripped onto your inner thighs.

He cranes his neck to reach out to kiss you again, though this time it's like a warm down, gentle and sensitive.

"Welcome to the family," he wheezes after a few moments of comfortable silence and you let out a loud belly laugh at the absurdity of his words, tapping his chest as you slink down to rest beside him, his arm still keeping you pressed to him. He's covered you both with the duvet and you can't resist slipping into a very comfortable sleep, too comfortable and worn out from the day to fight it.

Taglist Requests

@ferntv

@aigowen

@that-lame-ghoul9000

@jules-with-stars

@sleepiemocha

@seppys-return-to-madness

@wtvbabes

@the-mrs-malik-styles

@cedslover

@nisapoosworld

@dashhhhkaaa

@ghostlytv

@fiathefirst

@costheticbabe

@cliffburtonscig

@lildrunkjkk

@levylovegood

@jewelsrules

@jphxnix

@asuperconfusedgirl

@staceys-moms-thighs

@nighttimewrites

@egghasnoleg

@mel119g

@angelrioter

@minatozsana

@quinny921

@blahhh819

@comicgollum20

@moonieseyelash

@marisimps

@xslashers

@70s-chic

@shadyunknowncreation

@rockabieesstuff

@moon-2424

@chx-la

@malenk

@jimmywoosimp

@soulessfictionaddict

@twistedlaces1909

@brookiecookiez0

@nightowlgirl

@football1921

@in-the-middle-of-the-sadness

@rk-ceres

@kisses4fred

@apolloleprince

@slashersimpshadow

@slytherinambitious

@screamingoverfiction

@rhunew

@tomhockstetter7-111

@hagridshaircare

@ellouisa17

@fonderaura

@clemlament

@jennapancake

@murderisfunlol

@ohantonia

@storytime-20

@guavacookie23

@satansdarlin

@smartoneamia

@littlelillysjs

@victorylr

@nanamisfootrest

@nulixity

@03michi01

@hjpbiggestdrider

@wzardweasley

#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #harry potter #george weasley masterlist #George Weasley x you #George Weasley x reader #George Weasley smut #George Weasley fluff #no good deeds

168 notes · View notes

magneto-was-fucking-right · 3 months

Text

The Ghost Next Door - Chapter 5

Prompt: After suffering an almost lethal injury in combat, Simon "Ghost" Riley expected a dull, and uneventful leave back at his shitty apartment. His new next-door neighbor ruins his plans. Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader (named Riley Thomas for plot purposes)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 6

Disclaimer: slow burn; neighbor!Simon; will eventually contain very graphic descriptions of smut;

Chapter Summary: In which Simon's neighbor goes on a date but still ends up on his couch...

Word Count: 2.4K

One dull, oddly quiet evening, Simon Riley had decided to cook dinner for the first time in months.

Although his wound had healed considerably in the past few weeks, he knew he wouldn’t be ready to apply for medical clearance just yet, the base’s doctor preying on any sign of physical or mental discomfort like a hawk. His limp had been reduced to an occasional stumbling when his leg gave out, only problematic after long walks or if he missed his daily stretches.

The boredom of the current routine (or lack thereof) was a disease spreading through his bones, consuming his mind and slowly killing him bit by bit. He found himself seeking comfort in his neighbor's own ordinary habits, picking out singular sounds and signs of Riley’s activities in her flat: feeding the pets, the incessant scratching noises and whines from the pup, the way she sweetly comforted them even when they misbehaved. She left early in the morning, and regardless of her attempts to do so quietly, Simon’s line of work had made him a terribly light sleeper. When she returned in the evenings (seldom earlier than 18 o’clock), he unconsciously sighed with relief, happy that the usual racket would prevent him from being solely accompanied by his dark thoughts. When he finally heard her lay in bed late at night, he felt as if he was back on the field, studying the enemy, listening to either her soft snores of exhaustion or her tossing and turning on the sheets, deep sighs of frustration echoing his own.

He had barely started chopping up vegetables when he heard an anxious knocking on his door that night, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He had heard her frantically move about after she’d returned from work, quick steps pacing back and forth as even Milo’s uneasiness made itself heard through constant meowing.

He wiped his hands on a clean cloth before reaching for the black facemask near the entrance, unlocking his door lazily. There, stood Riley. In a dress. With makeup on.

His body immediately stiffened at the sight, eyes drifting up and down, taking in the details as fast as humanly possible. He unconsciously took a step back, his leg faltering as he tried to pretend to be unbothered by the way the elegant garment enveloped her curves (that her oversized clothes had hidden for so long), the modest length to her knees doing poor work of concealing the soft flesh of her legs.

As his eyes quickly drifted up again, his pupils widened as he fixed his gaze on a generous cleavage, completely unprepared for the plumpness of her breasts. He gulped silently as he struggled to keep his eyes on her face, until he noticed how carefully she had drawn on some eyeliner that made her eyes stand out, mascara building long, dark lashes that somehow complimented her small freckles.

“What do you think?” she asked, smiling, giving him a shy spin before tucking her arms behind her back and shrugging awkwardly. Her heels were noisy against the old floors of the hallway.

He was rendered speechless, however maintaining his usual broody facade as he shrugged, feigning disinterest. Her smile crumbled as a deep frown set on her flushed expression

“Oh no…It’s too much isn’t it?” She looked down at herself with trembling hands. “I don’t have time to change.”

“No” Simon spoke before he even thought about it, but couldn’t find himself capable of blurting out how he actually felt about it. “It’s…You’re…”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to pretend to like it.” She laughed nervously, the awkward tension rising between the two as Simon’s breath quickened. “I’m going out and I just wanted to know if you could keep an ear out for pets…I have a cam in the living room to watch them but It’d be rude to keep checking my phone and-” She stopped herself as she observed Simon’s pensive expression. “I’m rambling ain’t I?”

“Where ya going?” He tried to sound casual, but his voice came out strained as he leaned against his door frame, arms crossed and chest tightened.

“Oh…my sister kind of forced me to go on this arranged date thing…it’s silly, really…” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and giggled nervously, avoiding his gaze.

“Hmm.” His usual grunt returned and her shoulders slouched slightly. Simon felt uncomfortable as something unknown coiled in the pit of his stomach, making him suddenly lose his appetite.

She patiently awaited his answer, looking up at him through those long lashes.

“I’ll hear out for’em” He nodded in acknowledgement before making it to turn around and flee her perfumed scent. Lavender soap and a whiff of vanilla.

“Wait.”

Her delicate fingers wrapped around his wrist softly, giving him a way out of her grip if he wished to. He felt himself shiver as he looked back at her.

“Thank you, Simon. I won’t be long.” Riley offered an apologetic smile before stepping back, readjusting her purse on her shoulder.

He couldn’t even speak as he watched her walk away.

***

Simon had been quietly staring at his kitchen wall for about half an hour, festering.

Once he had finished preparing his homemade version of chicken fried rice - his knife practically stabbing the meat before he seasoned and cooked it - he uncorked a bottle of wine, pouring himself a large glass, trying to quiet his racing mind.

Who could she possibly have a date with? The young woman was practically slaving most of her days at work or taking care of on coming and going pets she sheltered. Even if she was telling the truth, and the date had actually been arranged, he still found himself bothered with how well she’d dressed up for something “silly”.

Why do you care? he asked himself, frustration bubbling in his chest. I don’t - a part of him replied.

What if she brings him home? What if I hear them in her bedroom tonight?

He startled as he heard the glass between his thick fingers begin to crack, taking a deep, calming breath as he eased the pressure around it.

“Fuckin’ hell” he muttured, shaking his head as he made way to sit on his couch, downing the drink in fast gulps as he turned on a football match.

Just as he was about to doze off, his eyelids hanging low as the sleepiness from the alcohol enveloped his body and soothed his mind, he heard quiet, sneaky footsteps echoing in the hallway. He frowned as he heard the keys dangling next door, taking a quick look at the time on his phone. She hadn’t even been gone for an hour.

Simon groaned as he carefully stood up, reaching for his facemask as he heard the puppy whine and bark, intending to use it as an excuse to go check. His stomach knotted as he considered the possibility of catching her with someone, but he quickly buried those feelings down, his face utterly calm and collected.

Riley hadn’t even fully closed the door yet when he quietly reached her threshold, knocking softly and startling her.

“Fuck…you scared me.” She sniffled, quickly wiping away tears as she tried to force a smile, throwing her heels on the corner. “I thought you’d be resting, didn’t wanna bother you.”

Simon took a few seconds to process her distressed demeanor, stepping inside slowly and casually sticking his hands in his pockets. His head cocked at her puffy eyes and reddened, wet cheeks, her eyeliner ruined as it had completely smudged on the corners.

“Riley-” He started, his tone soft.

“It rained tonight, it was an awful idea to wear heels.” She scurried off to her kitchen, grabbing Milo on the way and kissing his forehead as he purred contently. “Were they too noisy?” She asked as Rex began whining at Simon, begging for his attention.

“No, but I-”

“Great!” She forced another smile while she refilled the pets’ bowls, bare feet on the cold floors. She wiped some snot off her nose as Simon bent over to pet the puppy, his massive hands easily covering the pup’s entire head as he scratched his ears gently. “Thank you so much for helping out.”

“S’nothin. I didn’t really do anythin’.” He shrugged, concern growing in his chest at her odd behavior.

“I still owe you that cake, you know.” She pointed out shyly “I haven’t forgotten, I promise…I’ve just been busy.”

“It’s okay. You’re okay.” He nodded gently and she sighed deeply, trying to avoid his lingering gaze. “Riley…”

“It’s nothing. I promise.” She sniffled again, smiling apologetically at him.

He stood in silence for a few minutes, weighting her words.

“What happened?” He asked, stepping closer until they were face to face, and she had nowhere to escape.

She looked down at her feet as silent tears ran down her freckled cheeks, remaining silent.

“Did he hurt you?” Simon’s voice came out colder than he intended to, fists clenched beside his body, trying to contain the anger that began boiling in his blood.

“No, it’s just…” The young woman covered her face with her hands. “So embarrassing.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter, seriously, I’m just being sensitive as per usual.” His heart sank at her trembling voice and the way she anxiously began fidgeting with her necklace.

“Tell me.”

“Simon…”

Simon took a deep breath, pondering if it was really worth pressing the matter when she didn’t seem willing to talk about it, opting for another route instead.

“I made chicken fried rice for dinner.” He felt his face warm as her smile grew, this time genuine.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He lifted a hand to her face, wiping away a tear with his calloused thumb and secretly appreciating the way she discreetly leaned against his touch, comforted. “Wanna try it?”

“Fuck yeah, I’m starving.” She sighed in relief as Simon let out an amused grunt.

“Language, kid. There’s children present.” He pointed to the pets and she giggled, two dimples returning.

“Let me get some ice cream!” She rushed to the kitchen and Simon gave Milo a pat on his fluffy head.

“I opened a bottle o’wine.”

“A recipe for disaster.”

***

“This is so good!” Riley Thomas spoke with her mouth full as she sat comfortably on her neighbor’s couch, happily savoring the warm meal he had provided.

Whereas Simon was barely teetering on the edge of tipsiness - a couple glasses of wine in - the young woman was undeniably drunk, softly moaning every time she took the fork to her mouth.

“You’re sloshed.” Simon shook his head in amusement, barely containing a chuckle.

“I’m really not!” She protested, giggling at his accusation.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“And you love me for it.” She winked playfully, making his eyebrows raise in genuine disbelief at her newfound confidence, most certainly alcohol fueled.

“Feelin’ cheeky, are we?” He chuckled, entertained, as well as very relieved she was feeling better about whatever ailed her before.

Riley Thomas set the bowl down, leaning back on the plush couch and lazily pulling her knees towards her chest. Simon gulped silently, doing his best to politely avoid staring at the exposed skin of her thighs where the dress had bunched up.

“I think I feel lighter. Cozier too.” She gave him a dazzling, careless smile, eyelids low as her tiredness became apparent.

“Booze will do that to ya.” He readjusted his facemask, which Riley had begged him to fully remove each time he took a sip of wine. He had refused.

“Hadn’t had a drink or two in a while.” She slurred out and Simon snorted.

“More like a drink or five, love.”

“Stop it.”

“What?”

“Calling me love.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m wine drunk Simon.” She hid her blushing face behind her palms.

“Hm.”

Riley sighed deeply. Loneliness was hitting her like a brick that night, and she found herself craving her neighbor’s attention, yearning for the soft praisal she often imagined he could give. Fantasizing about his warm hands placed on her tense shoulders, the curve of her hips…maybe even the back of her knees. She attributed those thoughts to the dry spell that had been bestowed upon her since her previous relationship, imagining she could easily think that way about any other male that gave her the right amount of attention.

Or maybe she wasn’t yet willing to admit that Simon rattled something deep within her.

The young woman’s gaze fixed itself on his half-exposed arms, a look he couldn’t quite decipher as it trailed up, and down, and then up again, until it stopped on his eyes. He saw hunger.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He warned softly, large hands gripping the armrest.

“Like what?” She asked innocently, voice laced with honey and the prospect of a very, very eventful evening. Such a tempting proposition.

Simon cocked his head to the right, in silent answer.

She shook her head, trying to push away the warmth that trickled down her body, hugging her knees as she rested her chin upon them.

“Sorry…Tough night.”

“Ya ready to talk about it?”

Riley’s shoulders slouched, her face heating at the memory.

“Well…” She huffed, tiredly. “For starters he was thirty minutes late,and because he made the reservation I didn’t want to walk in the restaurant first, alone…”

“Hm” He nodded, a sign for her to go on.

“I texted him a few times, thinking he was a no-show, and he never replied.” She rolled her eyes. “My heels got drenched from the rain and my feet were hurting like hell. When I was about to leave the prick finally showed up and guess what he said next.”

“Can’t possibly think of a good excuse, love.”

“Apparently neither could he. He just said that we probably lost the reservation already and asked me if I’d like to come over to his place.” She huffed angrily, shaking her head. “Then he got mad that I refused and…”

“And?” He urged her to go on, noticing her uncomfortable expression, the way her fingers fidgeted with her necklace.

“And I don’t wanna say what he said.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to.”

Riley looked up at him gratefully, but decided to open up further. He was a great listener after all.

She sighed once again “He…He told me he only asked me out because my sister kept nagging him about it…and that he thought I’d be an easy shag since I haven’t…dated, in a long time.” She exhaled the words quickly, unable to look Simon in the eyes.

She missed out on his livid expression, the way his fingers seemed ready to crush the armrest as his mind was lost in murderous thoughts.

“Hm.” Was all he could muster.

“Yep.” She looked down at the empty glass, preparing to fill it up again.

“Don’t.”

“Why?”

“You’ve had enough. You’ll feel like shit tomorrow.” He advised, moving the bottle away.

“What do you care?” It came out rougher than expected, and she winced at her own words. Simon’s cold gaze made her shrink further into his couch. “I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

“I didn’t expect to be into him, or anything to happen at all. Although sometimes I do miss being touched by something other than my right hand, you know?”

There it was, the alcohol again. Simon stifled a grunt of agreement, and the sudden warmth that involuntarily gathered at the apex of his thighs again once he considered her words.

“Is it so wrong to seek a bit of warmth sometimes?” Her tone reflected her sadness, and Simon knew he was just as touch starved as she was, albeit he buried those feelings so deeply he rarely ever thought about it anymore. Until Riley Thomas had showed up, that is.

“Do you seek it?” His eyes snapped back at hers, a hand running over his blonde locks as he considered her words.

“Hm.” Was all he was willing to give.

Tense silence fell between the two as she yearned to learn more about him. What moved him. He didn’t feel capable of conceding anything yet.

“You looked…you look beautiful. That guy was a proper cunt.”

His heart melted at the sight of her smile unfolding before him, like a radiant star with dimples, a chipped tooth, and freckles.

“Thank you, Simon.” She whispered as if keeping a secret. Their secret. Simon nodded in acknowledgement and smiled too, under his mask.

Maybe he wasn’t so bad at opening up after all.

A/N: Hey y'all! I hope you guys forgive me for how long I've taken to post this! After 10 years of service my laptop decided to die, and with it everything I've ever written, which was very hard to deal with, especially considering that I needed it to finish my master's thesis. It was very frustrating to write on my tablet with a little keyboard hence why I took forever to post. Hopefully I'll find another solution soon. Thank you for the lovely feedback, keep sharing your thoughts with me ❤️

TAG LIST (I hope I haven't forgotten anyone)

@xaestheticalien @bossva @missmae3004 @yyiikes @lillysfrogsandbogs

#ghost cod #ghostxreader #cod #ghost imagine #simon riley imagine #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #ghost smut #modernwarfare2 #neighbor!ghost

150 notes · View notes

fairydustblossom · 10 months

Text

losing control {part 4}

azriel x reader

summary: you and azriel have been best friends for decades. giving romance a chance takes some time to figure out.

category: angst, slow-burn, friends-to-lovers (kinda)

word count: 3.5k

warnings: none i think

Notes: i cannot believe it took me a month to finish this up. i apologize for the wait and i thank you all for being so patient! life got super busy for a second there and also i just was not liking this chapter at alllll. but i finally do! it's a good set up for the next few parts which im so EXCITEDDD to write!!! as always /please/ let me know y'alls thoughts i love hearing them,,,, anyways enjoy :)

{part 1} | {part 2} | {part 3} | {part 5}

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Half the night you tossed and turned filled with longing and regret and the other half you felt your anger reignite. The back and forth of your emotions leaving you rattled and unsure of what to do next.

When morning came, you felt like shit. Dark bags under your eyes, face a greyish color, eyes bloodshot red and hair a mess. You stared at yourself in the mirror feeling the weight of the day ahead. You had to go to training and more than likely see Azriel, you knew he wouldn’t skip it, after that you had a meeting with Rhys, and then you had to work all day at the library. A sigh left you as you thought of the long day ahead and all the responsibilities you had when all you wanted was to curl up in bed and sleep the day away. The thought of you and Azriel ending made you want to drop to your knees. If the possibility of that made you want to weep, you couldn’t imagine what seeing him today would do to you.

Closing your eyes you managed to quiet all your thoughts and started breathing in and out, telling yourself that Azriel hadn’t broken up with you last night. This was just a disagreement and everything would work itself out… You repeated this to yourself until you finally felt determination settle over you. Determination to work this out, to not let it consume you, and especially to not let Azriel see how much he had affected you. If he was going to act the way he did last night, cold and distant, then you would act the same.

So with one last look at yourself in this state, you turned around and started getting ready for the day.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Every bone in your body begged you not to go to training. Your body was sore, thanks to Azriel, and the sleepless night did little to soothe your body. But you wouldn't give Cassian any reason to hold skipping for a second time this week against you, and most importantly, you wouldn't let Azriel get in the way of your duties to the Night Court. You owed much to Rhys.

As you walked into the training pit, you immediately noticed the Shadowsinger's presence. His back was turned to you as he adjusted the wraps on his hands. He continued what he was doing but you could tell by the slight twitch of his wings and the movement of his shadows that he knew you had walked in.

You wondered if he wished you had stayed back, if he wanted to see you, or if he simply just didn’t care. By the way he carried himself, it seemed like the latter. You fought against the pain blooming in your chest. You always wanted to see Azriel. Right now, all you wanted was to touch him, hug him, and rest your head in the space between his wings. But you were starting to realize your feelings for Azriel were stronger than his. Was he not filled with the same need as you? The realization came to you late in the night as you replayed the argument, the way he had looked at you, talked to you.

There was no doubt in your mind anymore that you felt more for him.

Training went by agonizingly slow, your heart never slowing down, your mind never letting you forget Azriel was nearby. You had tried sneaking looks at Azriel, hoping to catch him staring at you, but he seemed unbothered by your presence, never sparing you a glance.

You couldn’t understand how he could just turn off his emotions like this. You knew becoming involved with your best friend, as emotionally challenged as he was, would be difficult, and you were aware his profession relied on detachment of emotions but how could he act like you meant nothing after having consoled you just the night before? After showing you how much he cared for you. It didn’t make any sense and you felt that you were being toyed with.

Azriel was trying very hard to stay focused on his workout. He was ready to be done for the day, not wanting to be near you any more than he had to. He felt ashamed and embarrassed at his actions from the night before, and quite frankly he had not gathered the courage needed to talk to you. During all of training, his mind kept racing with thoughts of what to say to you, jumping from one thought to the other. Azriel felt all over the place and nowhere closer to finding the words to better explain his actions. He tried keeping his eyes off you, knowing he wouldn’t be able to carry on with his day if he saw how you looked. Instead he relied on his shadows’ descriptions of you- whispers of the bags under your eyes, the frown on your face, the looks you were sending his way- which didn’t aid his overthinking.

He wanted to comfort you, to hold you, but knowing he had been the reason why you felt this way made him feel sick. Training felt like torture, his self-deprication not letting him get the relief he seeked from a hard session. Deciding he was better off in solitude today, he started getting ready to leave. He figured if he could just get away from you, the smell of you, the whispers of his shadows, he could think of an apology. All night he had replayed the possibility of telling the inner circle, of becoming official, and he couldn't escape all the negative outcomes his mind had come up with. He needed to figure out an apology that would not compromise his belief in remaining private for as long as possible- until he felt assured that nothing would go wrong.

Finishing up your last set of drills, you looked over at Azriel for the countless time that day. He was stretching, having just finished his drills as well, and the anger building up in you took over. You started walking towards him as everyone else headed out and his shadows rushed around him, probably letting their master know you were walking over. He looked from his peripheral view to confirm and straightened up, turning his back to you and starting to walk away to the changing rooms.

You were livid. The way Azriel had ignored you during training irked you in a way you had never experienced before. You had never been this angry at him. You understood the way the conversation went last night wasn't the best but he didn't have to ignore you. All morning you kept trying to make eye contact with him and he had refused to meet your eyes. And the way in which he walked away when he saw you headed towards him right now fucking hurt.

The way he was treating you hurt. Never had you felt so little and unimportant to Azriel and although you had promised yourself you would be as cold and distant as him, your anger had other plans and you were not going to stand by this treatment, not from him.

Trying to catch up to his long strides you marched after him into the changing area

pushing the door open.

"Azriel" you said stopping a few feet away, his shirt was already off, back facing towards you. You ignored the tightness around your throat and the conflicting emotions rising within you as you tried to not stare at the sweat gleaming down his back, his wings in all their majesty.

His wings twitched while the rest of his body went still at the mention of his name. He didn't respond which caused a scoff to bubble out of you. You were in complete disbelief. This did not feel like your Azriel. This dynamic between you two was completely new.

"Are you really just going to ignore me?" You asked, anger coating your voice.

He remained quiet and took a deep breath. Internally he was a mess. He didn't want to say anything that would make things worse than he already had last night. He felt if he opened his mouth he would completely ruin everything and he was trying his hardest to not let that happen by remaining silent. He knew he was being unfair to you, but he had already hurt you last night and he felt unworthy of even being in the same room as you.

You however were not understanding that. All you could see was his cool mask of indifference.

"I'm just confused, Azriel. I don't understand what's happened. I believe what I asked for isn’t unreasonable, considering we've been doing this, whatever you want to call this, for over half a year. I don't understand your reaction."

You wanted to plead with him, beg him to turn to you to listen to you, to love you. You wanted to cry and have everything be alright. But you wouldn't. Instead you straightened yourself up and narrowed your eyes.

"Azriel, turn around." you said in a low voice.

Azriels fists tightened in response, you could see his knuckles turning white.

"Azriel. turn. around. Look at me, I'm trying to talk to you. This feels weird, this isn't us. " Your voice softened, exhaustion and pain taking over you now. "I want to talk through this."

Azriel turned around, your belly fluttering with hope. You were sure if you could just discuss this, everything would be okay. Your eyes met for a second and you thought you saw sadness in his eyes when he looked at you but you blinked and his walls were back up.

"I don't want to talk right now Y/N" he grumbled, dismissing your attempts at fixing the problem.

"Then when Az? When are we going to talk? Why can't we just work this out right now? Why does it have to be a thing? Just talk to me Az." Your breathing was getting more agitated with every word you spoke, his silence cutting deeply. Still, you carried on

"I’m sorry for the words I chose last night, for how it came out but… What did you mean last night? You are enough for me, I don’t ever want you to think that you can’t give me what I need. I know you can. You already give me everything I want. I don't see how telling our friends would change anything between us."

"It would change everything, don’t you see? It already has" he said, becoming just as irritated as you. He was over this conversation, he didn't want to have it right now, not when he still hadn't found the words to explain his feelings. Gods he hadn't even been able to tell you he loved you . He wanted to do that before having to tell everyone.

"How Az? How?" You almost shouted, your patience running out, you were ready to argue it out.

Suddenly the door opened, Cassian walking in muttering about forgetting something when he abruptly stopped, noticing the tension in the room. He could see both you and Azriel breathing heavily, your fists were clenched and Azriel's shadows were mostly covering him, swarming frantically. The way you both stood looked like you were engaged in an argument and he raised an eyebrow.

"Everything okay?" He asked. He looked at Azriel's face, set on a scowl, and then at yours, noticing the tears lining your eyes and your cheeks flushed pink. “What’s going on?” he tried again when he was met with silence.

Azriel held your gaze before muttering “Nothing” and winnowing away.

You and Cassian stood in the changing rooms staring at the spot Azriel had just stood in.

You blinked the tears that had welled up away trying to not let Cassian see but it was too late. He could see the state you were in and he knew he had just interrupted an argument between you and his brother. An oddity, given how close the two of you were. What could his brother have said to have you at the point of tears? Cassian started asking “What happe-” before you cut him off “I don’t want to talk about it Cass.” and then you winnowed away, going to your meeting with Rhys.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In front of you stood your high lord and one of your best friends, Rhys. Immediately you wished you had winnowed somewhere else to compose yourself, Rhys could read everyone in the inner circle in a matter of seconds. There was no way he wouldn’t notice your current state. Your red rimmed eyes and your heaving breathing.

He took in your appearance for what felt like forever, but was really a matter of seconds, and raised his eyebrows in a questioning look.

You shook your head, letting him know you didn’t want to talk about it. He gave you a look that said he was sorry, but wasn’t going to let it go.

“Not only as your high lord, but as someone who cares very dearly for a friend, a friend that I consider family, you know I have to ask. What’s wrong?” he asked, going around his desk and leaning against it, arms crossed waiting for your answer.

You rolled your eyes “Really Rhys? You’re gonna pull the high lord card?”

He scoffed and shot you a smirk ��Here I was thinking I was pulling the family card”

That made a small smile appear on your face. You knew Rhys was just worried and it wasn’t fair to take out your frustrations on him. If he showed up at your office in the same manner you would also ask.

“I’m sorry… just… feeling a little scattered. I didn’t mean to snap”

“My dear Y/N, you have been snapping at me since the day we met. I do not hold that against you. However, I will hold it against you if you keep things from me that are clearly disturbing you. I heard you missed training this week, I also heard you used your powers against Cass… and now you are showing up to our meeting, quite frankly, looking like a mess. So, what’s really been going on?”

You sighed and sat down across from him, head falling between your hands. “I can’t tell you”

At this Rhys stood a little straighter, eyebrows drawn in confusion. “You do realize one of my top spies telling me she can’t tell me something is cause for concern”

Your eyebrows rose in alarm “I don’t mean it like that Rhys, you know I tell you everything of importance. It’s just… it’s personal”

He sighed and went to sit next to you, placing an arm around you. “Alright… I won’t press you if you really don’t want to talk. Just know you can always come to me”

You leaned into his side and whispered “I know Rhys, thank you.”

He squeezed you into his size letting you rest there for a few minutes before proceeding with the meeting.

“As you know, we will be hosting a gala at the end of this week, it will be a chance to celebrate the alliances we have built after the war and for the courts to further strengthen relationships with one another. Eris is coming to stay with us for the next few days. Now that Beron’s rule is over, I have offered our courts help to Eris. I intend for the Autumn Court’s new High Lord to have as smooth a transition as possible, otherwise all our work to remove Beron was for nothing. Hopefully, in return, Eris will help us when it is time to change the ways of the Hewn City and fully be the Night Court we all dream of. Now, I need you to keep an eye on Eris. I have no reason to doubt his loyalties, but one can never be too careful. I have already told him you will be there to help with anything he needs.” said Rhys, concentrating on some documents on his desk.

“I have to babysit Eris?” you muttered, crossing your arms. You had learned to not hate the former heir, he had proved himself to the inner circle and he was often around, strategizing with Rhys and whatnot. He had asked for Mor’s forgiveness, and everything had for the most part been worked out. However, Azriel still despised Eris. The High Lord's attempt to right his wrong has done nothing to diminish Azriels’ distrust in him. Naturally, due to your proximity to the Spymaster, you had kept a professional distance from him. Never actually becoming friendly with Eris.

“If that’s what you wanna call it, yes.” Rhys looked at you with a glimmer in his eyes “But I like to think of it as giving you the honor of being an extension of me for the next couple of days” he said, shooting you a grin, knowing you would like the sound of that.

A laugh burst out of you, “Alright Rhys, you don’t have to butter me up. You know I’ll do it, shouldn’t be too bothersome. Eris hasn’t been a problem for some time” you drifted off “Although, I do I wonder how Feyre will react when I tell her I’m an extension of her husband” you joked, standing up and walking towards the door.

Rhys chuckled, muttering about the kind of trouble you would get him into.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Cassian felt weird about the interaction from earlier with you and Azriel. He was running the events of the past weeks in his head and he felt that there was something he was missing. He thought of your skipped practice, of your outburst during training, of Azriel’s mood at the debrief the other day and what he had just walked in on.

Clearly he hadn’t walked in on nothing, regardless of what Azriel said. Set on finding his brother, he wandered around the places Azriel usually frequented. He found him on his balcony, face in concentration, leaning his body over the railings, wings drooped, and shadows swarming around him in chaos. It had been a long time since he had seen his brother so out of sorts.

Cassian landed a few feet away from Azriel and approached him cautiously. Azriel looked at him from the corner of his eye and stood up straighter. “I want to be alone right now Cass.” Azriel said, trying to harden his voice to deter Cassian from trying, but Cassian knew his brother. He could hear the mask covering his turmoil.

Cassian sighed and went to stand next to Azriel. “What’s going on, brother?”

Azriel huffed and muttered “I said I wanted to be alone”

Cassian grinned at him “Since when do I follow orders from you?”

Azriel rolled his eyes but didn’t try to argue with Cassian, he knew there was no point. The general wouldn’t be leaving yet.

At Azriel’s silence, he continued. “Brother, we have been there for each other our entire lives. I am not going to leave you alone when I can so clearly see something plagues your mind.”

Azriel debated for a second telling Cassian what was wrong, he wanted to ask how Cassian navigated his relationship with Nesta. How he was able to put aside the fears and worries of things going wrong, of Nesta getting hurt because of him, but he reminded himself that Nesta was Cassian's mate. The bond tethered them to one another, and the risk of things not working out was significantly less, given that the Mother had decided they were meant for each other. No matter how many times he had prayed to the mother, you weren't his mate. He didn’t have that same level of assurance, Cassian wouldn't understand.

“I’m fine Cass, just thinking about work” Azriel said. He figured that excuse would satisfy Cassian, it wouldn’t be the first time work consumed him and had such an effect on him.

Cassian narrowed his eyes at Azriel before asking “Is that what you and Y/N were arguing about? Work?” his tone letting Azriel know that he didn’t fully buy it. At the mention of your name Azriel’s shadows became agitated again, the Shadowsinger having to reign them in from becoming a frenzied mess. He cooled his expression, hoping Cassian hadn’t caught any change in him.

“We weren’t arguing” Azriel stated, looking at Cassian in the eyes briefly before setting them back on the horizon.

Cassian scoffed “Az she was literally about to cry. Y/N always tears up during arguments. I heard some arguing before walking in, that’s why I walked in. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you two argue. What happened?”

Azriel’s jaw tensed. His chest hurt at the thought of you crying. At the thought of him making you cry. He felt that he was only making things worse. He had to fix things with you, he just needed to figure out how.

Azriel ignored Cassian and turned to walk away “I have some work to catch up on. I’ll see you tonight at dinner” he said to Cassian before winnowing away.

Cassian was left standing there wondering what the hell was going on between you and his brother.

taglist: @acotarxx @fall-myriad @moonlwghts @fictionalmenloversblog@kennedy-brooke@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @rebs2210 @angelshadowsinger @sstrohma @lahoete @alohaangels @fanboyluvr @thelov3lybookworm @hyemishii @thewarriormoon @reiincarnatiion-blog @gretavanbobatea

#azriel #fairydustblossom #losing control series #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar #acomaf #acowar #azriel angst #azriel fic #acotar fanfiction #azriel fluff

415 notes · View notes

rorywritesjunk · 6 months

Text

No longer locked upon the land but free on the rolling waves

You and Buggy come face to face with himself from the past, and while you're fully accepting that this is your husband as a child, Buggy doesn't want to accept it.

Rating: PG-13ish, but just due to some swearing.

Warning: Upset kid, upset husband. Reader is way too nice, doesn't necessarily take husband's feelings into account as well.

A/N: A combined request. I did a few versions of this story before feeling like it hit the marks I was wanting to hit. Also, I'm just trying to vibe off what I've seen of Kid Buggy. I'm no expert. I'd protect that kid with my life. He's so adorable. I also like the trope of "Meeting your self from another time" and "gets turned back into kid-self". This is the former, and I know shit about time travel but I just kind of made something up. Also, kelpies. Are they in One Piece? I honestly don't know but I love kelpies and needed an excuse to mention them.

Title comes from "Sailing Song" by S.J. Tucker.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6/Epilogue

Chapter One

You would have thought you drank the pub dry the night before and were still drunk with what you were seeing in front of you. Except you very much didn’t drink. You stayed back on the ship, wanting a quiet night while the rest of the crew and captain went to drink the pub dry. You were perfectly sober, no hangover in sight, but you really weren’t sure what you were staring at.

Blue hair, red nose, and a scowl you knew all too well was in front of you, clutching something in his little hands while looking you up and down. “What?!”

“I… don’t know.” Which was true, you didn’t know. The kid in front of you looked every bit like the captain who was currently sleeping back on the ship, having managed to find his way home without falling off the docks and into the water to drown(this time). He never mentioned having a kid, ever, and considering how long you knew the captain and your relationship with him, and guessing the kid’s age, you would have been having a very serious talk about infidelity and why keeping your love child a secret? Seriously? wasn’t good for relationships.

“Why are you staring at me?!” The kid snapped. “Don’t stare at me!”

“Sorry!” You smiled and knelt down in front of him. “You just look so much like someone I know, I was confused. I promise I wasn’t staring.”

The kid was on guard, tense, and looked ready to bolt, but you were curious. He just looked so much like Buggy that he had to be an offspring or some kind of relative, but the scary thing to you was how much he really looked like Buggy; he had kept some photos of his childhood onboard the Oro Jackson, and you knew what he looked like as a kid. He would show them to you on nights when he was drunk and reminiscing about the good ol’ days, singing shanties and drinking heavily. Last night was one of those nights before he passed out asleep in bed.

“What’s your name?” You finally asked. The kid didn’t seem sure about telling you, but he must have felt brave because he straightened up and smirked at you.

“I’m Buggy!” He told you, puffing his chest out proudly. “I’m an apprentice under Captain Roger, y’know, and I’m one of the best already!”

Oh.

Oh shit.

Yea, no, something weird was going on. Why was there a kid who looked like Buggy, had the same name, and was talking about Captain Roger like he was still alive? Was this an elaborate make believe game the kid was playing, or were you staring into the eyes of your husband’s childhood self?

Weirdly enough, the latter made more sense to you. You heard of this happening, stories from sailors and pirates alike, but the stories were overheard at the bar after too much alcohol was consumed. Stories of children appearing for several days on a ship, like ghosts from a distant past, only to disappear again without a trace, but sometimes it happened the other way around, with the storytellers insisting that they met themselves as a child in the past, got to relive some memories, good and bad, before coming home again.

“Yea?” You grinned. “That’s impressive, so where’s your crew? Your ship?”

The smirk vanished and he deflated a bit, looking around with the smallest bit of worry. “I don’t know. I was in front of them and there was some kind of flash of light, and… I don’t know where I am.”

“Oh, well, want me to help you look for them?” You asked, knowing all too well that his crew was nowhere around, he was not where he thought he was, but you didn’t want him getting into any trouble (which you knew was difficult because as an adult he managed to get himself into enough trouble). “If we don’t find them, you can stay with me. I’ll keep you safe.”

“I-I don’t need to be kept safe!” He snapped. “I’m tough, okay? I can take care of myself!”

You made sure not to laugh, but it was hard not too. He was so cute as a kid that saying those things with such passion and intensity just made him even more adorable. Instead, you nodded, agreeing with him as you held your hand out to him to take.

“Well, how about something to eat? I’m just finishing up a supply run for my ship.” You said. “I’m happy to make you something before we find your crew.”

He looked at your hand, looked at you, then back at your hand before hesitantly taking it. Whatever he held in his hand he put in his pocket, making you wonder what he stole before coming here. You decided not to test the waters yet, he was feisty, proud, and if you treated him like a kid then he wouldn’t be very happy. You needed to treat him like the apprentice that he is, proud, determined, and passionate. Once his hand was in yours, you gave it a gentle squeeze and smiled at him as you started walking back to the docks.

“I have fresh apples and peanut butter, if you’d like that as a snack.” You said, eyeing him with a grin as his face lit up. That was the same snack you’d promise the captain whenever you wanted something from him. It wasn’t fancy by any means, just a simple snack, but you kept the peanut butter hidden from him so he never knew where to find it. The way the kid’s face lit up told you all you needed to know that this really was Buggy as a kid.

Oh, it was about to get fun on the ship.

“-and then I stole it!” Buggy exclaimed with a laugh, holding up the pendant for you to see. He had just finished telling you of his latest act of piracy, stealing some necklace from a vendor on the streets. You had fed him, given him something to drink, and you couldn’t help but walk over to him once he finished talking to wipe some of the food off his face with a dish towel. He was caught off guard and made a face at you when you did that.

“Pirates with food on their face scare no one.” You chuckled as you slung the towel over your shoulder before clearing the dishes in front of him. “And then what happened, Buggy?”

He fell silent, brow furrowed as he thought of your question. What did happen? He took off running, met up with the crew, and then a flash of light and he bumped into you-

“Buggy?” You tapped on the table in front of him, bringing him out of his thoughts. “You okay, sweetie?”

“Yea, yea.” He mumbled as he looked down at the pendant in his hand. “Next thing that happened was I ran into you.”

He quite literally did. You had just stepped out of a shop when he walked right into you, and you had been in shock of seeing him that you weren't bothered that a kid was yelling at you about being in the way.

“Oh!” You nodded and went to refill his glass. “Well, you can stay with me until we find your crew, okay?”

“Are you a pirate?” He asked. “I'm on a pirate ship, but you don't seem like a pirate.”

You laughed softly at that, shaking your head. “I'm not, no. I don't do piracy, just help with the upkeep of the ship. My husband, however, is a pirate.”

“What?!”

“Yea, he-”

“It's too loud in here.” Someone grumbled from the doorway. You both turned to look; the kid’s eyes widened and you grinned. And there he was, groggy, a little hungover, and obviously needing food and coffee if he was going to start the day. You went over to him and led him to the table, helping him sit down before you started on the coffee. “Time?”

“Lunch time.” You chuckled. “That's what time it is, honey.”

He glared at you, oblivious to the guest that was staring at him with wide eyes and an open mouth. Buggy was a little hungover, having had his fair share of alcohol the night before. Normally you had the coffee ready for him before he woke up, so he was confused and unhappy that it wasn't readily available for him at that moment.

“It's too early.” He grumbled, rubbing his eyes. “What's for lunch?”

“Wake up first.” You brought him a cup and kissed the top of his head. “But I need you to look across the table before you drink that coffee, honey.”

Buggy looked up at you, eyes squinting in confusion. You took hold of his head and turned it in the direction you wanted him to look, and a few seconds later he pushed back from the table while you still held his head. Swearing, you popped it back onto his neck.

“W-What is going on?” He shrieked upon seeing the kid. Thankfully Kid Buggy remained seated, but you could see the confused look on his face. The two were staring at each other, mirror images except for the age difference. Before you could explain, your husband got up, marched over to the kid, and picked him up by the back of the shirt, carrying him out of the kitchen.

“Buggy-” You went after him, not sure what was happening.

“Hey! Put me down!” The kid shrieked, fists swinging and legs kicking.

Buggy didn't respond and before you could stop him, he tossed the kid over the side of the ship and into the water. You couldn't believe he did that. You rushed to the side to look over, relieved you saw the kid treading water. So this was definitely a young Buggy, pre-Devil Fruit, otherwise you would have thrown your husband overboard after the kid. You threw a rope down to him while your husband went back to the kitchen, rambling on about curses and bad omens.

You wanted to know what the hell that was about.

“I’m fine!” The kid insisted as you wrapped his hair up in a towel. His clothes were soaked and you did not have anything that would fit him, so he was currently wearing an old shirt of Buggy’s until his clothes dried. They were draped over a chair in the bedroom, the pendant he stole earlier sitting on your shared dressing table.

“I don’t need you getting sick, sweetie.” You sighed as you used another towel to make sure his face was clean. You were mindful of the nose, touching the towel to his face except there. “I’m sorry he did that.”

“Why did he do that?” He grumbled as he crossed his arms, glaring up at you.

“Because pirates are superstitious fools.” You told him. “And… seeing you scared him I guess. I don’t know, I’m going to talk to him.” Carefully, you unwrapped his hair, making note that he needed to have it brushed to keep from tangling too much. You got up and set the towels aside before grabbing your hairbrush. “Buggy, I’m going to tell you something and I don’t want you to get scared, okay?”

“I don’t get scared!” He insisted. “Not like that guy! I’m braver than him!”

“Okay, here’s the thing about my husband-”

“Don’t tell him anything!” Your husband suddenly appeared in the doorway, glaring at the two of you. “Where did you find him? Who is he?!”

You weren’t bothered by his mood, but you wanted to make sure the kid felt safe. Without a word you moved between the two, keeping Kid Buggy behind you as you crossed your arms.

“We ran into each other, Buggy.” You told him firmly. “He got separated from his crew.”

“Crew?!” Buggy shook his head. “No, get him off this ship. He could be… a kelpie or something. Get him out of here!”

“He’s not a kelpie.” You sighed.

“You don’t know that!”

Rolling your eyes you looked down at the kid. He had grabbed hold of your pant leg, gripping it tightly as he stared at the man in the doorway. This was a lot for both of them but you needed the captain to calm down. You knelt down and touched the kid’s bare toes. He took a step back and gave you a weird look.

“Human toes, no hooves.” You pointed out. “He also mentioned the Oro Jackson and being an apprentice…” You looked back at your husband. He paled and shook his head. This was too much. This was not him, this had to be some form of trickery, or a shapeshifter. “Besides, I’ve spent enough time with my husband to know when I’m with him as a child.”

Kid Buggy’s eyes widened, looking between you and Adult Buggy. Child? Was… this supposed to be him in the future? As an adult? His jaw dropped, he couldn’t believe it. You smiled at the expression on his face, pleased the kid was in awe of this.

“I turn out to be a drunk loser?!” The kid shrieked. “Why?!”

Okay, that was not what you expected. You slapped your hand to your face while your husband looked ready to throw the kid overboard once again. Kid Buggy just shook his head, not believing this. Was this an alternate reality of some kind? He wouldn’t be like this. Was this guy even a pirate? He didn’t seem like it from the little bit the kid had seen already. He was not impressed in the slightest.

“I want him gone.” Buggy snapped. “No kelpie or bad omen crap is allowed on this ship!”

He stormed off after that.

#buggy the clown #sunny x buggy #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x you #one piece #one piece oc #one piece fanfiction

192 notes · View notes

kinktae · 8 months

Text

novocaine pt. 4 || (M)

↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES

Going home was hard – painful even. But falling back in love with Jimin, the boy you left behind? Downright gut-wrenching.

pairing: punk!jimin x reader

word count: 8.7k

genre: 1990s au, exes au, angst, smut

warnings: 90s slang, alcohol, fighting, car sex, oc has dead parents, bittersweet ending

A/N: PLS MAKE SURE REREAD 1-3, I KNOW ITS BEEN A FAT MINUTE BUT PLEASE CONSIDER ALL CHAPTERS WHEN READING THIS ENDING

01 | 02 | 03 | 04

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

PART FOUR (FINAL)

“You’re gonna break my damn neck!” Jimin complained, eyes shutting as you moved his head closer to the shower’s stream.

“Shh,” You giggled, fingers gingerly rinsing your boyfriend’s head.

Jimin was fully clothed, head thrown over the tub’s edge, insisting that he remain dry as you washed the orange dye from his hair.

Just the other day you had MTV playing in the background as Grams and you were making cookies when the video for The Flaming Lips’ She Don’t Use Jelly came on. You hadn’t heard the song in ages; Hoseok used to belt the nonsensical lyrics religiously on early morning bus rides to high school. But more importantly, you had never seen the music video and became consumed by the lead singer’s tangerine-colored hair.

It quickly became a topic of conversation between you and Jimin, nudging a shoulder into his side anytime you’d pass by an orange car or a shelf of hair dye. A week of your less-than-subtle teasing had gone by when he finally begrudgingly agreed to dye his hair orange. You were beyond excited, even if he had only agreed to get you to finally shut up.

So here the two of you were, kneeled on the tile floor of your bathroom, random splotches of bleach and dye on your shirts, the sound of The Smashing Pumpkin’s latest CD coming from your room.

“You should be grateful you have a girlfriend that’s willing to dye your hair for free.”

“Is that what you’re doing? I thought you were trying to drown me.”

“Alright, you big baby,” You rolled your eyes, reaching over him to turn off the shower head. “I’m done.”

“Pass me a towel, please?”

His eyes were scrunched shut, hand flailing about for the towel rack aimlessly. Chuckling, you passed the wet-haired boy a towel, sitting back on your heels as you watched him pat his face dry.

“Here, let me get your hair.” You offered, grabbing the towel back from his face and onto his head, careful to be gentle as you had bleached it earlier today.

Jimin sat obediently, quietly admiring the way you took your time and cleaned the dye-stained skin around his hairline. He loved having your attention; you were always so gentle with him. His chest tightened as you hummed along to the song in the background, oblivious to the splashes of orange dye that had found your cheek.

“Oh my god. It’s hella orange.” You giggled.

Jimin pulled you onto his lap, partly to help you work more comfortably, mainly because he liked having you close.

“Does it look bad?” His warm eyes peered into yours, sounding somewhat unsure.

Brows furrowing, you paused to press a kiss on Jimin’s pouting mouth. As if there were any universe in which Jimin looked bad. Seeing as his frown ceased to let up, you kissed him once more, “You look great, Minnie. My little pumpkin.”

“Real convincing.” He glared. Stealing one more kiss from you, he helped you off him and back up off the bathroom floor.

You watched intently as he moved towards the bathroom mirror. You weren’t anticipating him to hate it, but should the situation present itself, you had made a point to buy an emergency bottle of black hair dye, ready to remedy the situation at a moment’s notice.

Jimin said nothing at first, merely tilting his head from side to side as he ran his hands threw his newly orange, somewhat damp hair. A smile broke across his handsome face.

“It’s actually pretty sick.” He grinned, clearly pleased with the final result. You let out a breath of relief.

“I told you! Admit it, I was right, you look fucking hot. No one ever trusts my artistic vision.” You sighed dramatically, earning you a chuckle.

“Alright, Picasso. Remind me again the plan for tonight?” He rolled his eyes, reaching for the hairbrush he had laid out on the sink counter earlier.

“Well,” You watched as he sorted through his hair, “Hobi left a message saying he scored all of us tickets tonight for the drive-in theater but failed to mention what time or what movie it was.”

Jimin chuckled, “Typical. And you tried calling Hobi’s line?”

“No one picks up. I went and knocked on his door before you came over. The Jungs are out of town so he’s probably kicking it at Gwen’s.” You shrugged.

While you could in theory go and look up Gwen’s landline in the phone book, it seemed like a tremendous amount of work just to locate someone who quite literally lived right next door. He’d show up eventually. He always did.

You sighed, “Man, I can’t believe that old drive-in is still kicking. I thought for sure it went under in the time I left town.”

Jimin nodded, “Nah, it’s still around. But the only people using it are the old folks who were around when it was first built. They’re still playing the same ten shitty movies on repeat.”

“Let’s just get ready and go hunt him down in an hour, yeah?”

And so the two of you spent the next hour readying yourself, Jimin styling his new hair and you waging war against the blue eyeliner Gwen had somehow convinced you to purchase.

It was just around the one-hour mark that you received a call from the very person you had been hoping to find.

“Yo, kid! Come on out, I got two tickets with your name on them!”

Jimin and you ran out onto your grandmother’s driveway eagerly, laughing as Hobi slammed on his car horn melodically, a bright smile written across his face.

“Great timing, we were just about to go break down your door.” You smiled, grabbing the two bright yellow admission tickets that Hoseok had dangling out his car window. “Thanks, Hobi.”

“Where’ve you been, man?” Jimin questioned his best friend.

“Why? You keeping tabs on me, Carrot Top?” Hoseok giggled, eyeing your boyfriend’s new hair.

“Funny.”

“I’m playin’, it looks fresh, dude. I dig.” Hoseok assured, holding his hands up as if to show he meant no harm.

You rolled your eyes, “Lemme guess, you were at Gwen’s.”

“You kidding? Her place? Her dad’s sheriff— hell no!” Hobi shook his head before a greasy grin took hold of him. “Besides, I’ve got the open crib, a pretty girlfriend, and stamina like a racehorse.”

Jimin’s giggle was instantaneous, immediately clueing you in on what exactly Hobi was implying.

“You pig. I rang you and knocked on your door!” You scrunched your nose at him.

“Like a racehorse, kid,” Hobi emphasized, only furthering your frown.

“Jeez, okay, got it… TMI.”

“So we ready to watch Jurassic Park or what?” Hoseok first pumped the air.

Jimin’s eyes went wide, “They’re playing Jurassic Park tonight?! Sweet!”

You too were shocked. The film had come out only a few years ago.

“How the hell did that lame-ass drive-in get the license for a film that recent?”

“Got the old lady to pull some strings.” Hobi flashed you both a smug look, reaching over to pop his collar out theatrically.

“So your mom gave you the tickets? Councilwoman Jung sure has pull in this town.”

You were thoroughly impressed. Hoseok struck out in the parents department. Not only did they tolerate his tomfoolery throughout his teen years, but as his mother was on the city council, they were often occupied with work, giving Hobi free reign to do as he pleased as long as he remained out of jail.

His mother’s words, not yours.

“Oh Nah, I got the tickets myself.” Hobi corrected.

You squinted at him, suspicious, “…Should I even ask how you got these tickets?”

“Depends,” His voice lowered suddenly, eyes flickering from side to side, “are you gonna snitch?”

“No?”

“I broke into the ticket booth last night and just grabbed a bunch of tickets from the drawer.” He shrugged.

Your jaw fell, “Hobi!”

“Dude!” Jimin burst out laughing.

“What?!” Hoseok’s eyes went wide, as if entirely innocent of any crime. “Why are we wigging out? It’s not like I stole money from the register! Besides, is it my fault that so many places here are easy to break and enter?”

“Tell that to Gwen’s dad when he finally locks your ass up.” Jimin teased. Your childhood friend tutted, shifting his car into reverse.

“Whatever. You still took the tickets, ungrateful bastards. Your hands aren’t clean either. The movie is in twenty minutes. I dropped Gwen off at hers so she could go get changed so I gotta bounce and pick her back up. You guys need a ride?”

“Nah, we’ll take my car,” Jimin assured him.

Hoseok began to pull out the driveway, window still rolled down. “Meet up at mine after for drinks?”

“Sure. Thanks, Hobi!”

“See ya later, man!”

The three friends waved goodbye to one another as the eldest pulled out onto the street and drove off.

“Do you really think he and Gwen were busy fucking all this time?” Jimin pondered the second Hoseok was out of earshot, making you scowl.

“I think that Hobi is like a brother to me and if I think about it too much I’ll actually barf.”

Jimin chuckled, throwing an arm over your shoulder as the two of you made your way to his car.

———

“A medium popcorn, one Junior Mints, and Buncha Crunch please.” You smiled at the concession’s attendee.

You were about 20 minutes into Jurassic Park and could make out the sound of the film as you ordered Jimin and yourself some snacks. He had offered to go make the snack run himself, of course, but seeing as it was his favorite movie playing, you decided that the sacrifice would be yours to make.

Handing over the necessary cash, you moved to the side, watching patiently as the attendant assembled your order. Just then, someone else approached the concession counter. You glanced over at the person not particularly interested, before realizing at once just who the next patron was.

“Yoongi?” You called out before you could stop yourself.

A head of faded mint hair turned towards you, his dark eyes meeting yours, and took on an expression that you could only guess mirrored your own. The kind of expression that can only be shared between two people who had their tongues down each other’s throats not too long ago.

A pregnant pause fell between you.

“Y/N. Hey.” He breathed after a beat.

Chewing on the inside of your lip, you contemplated your next words, wondering what exactly to say to your boyfriend’s ex. You know… the one you had tried to have sex with.

Thankfully, the arrival of your popcorn and other snacks made it so you didn’t have to respond, a flustered ‘thank you’ escaping your lips as you grabbed your order.

“Uh, two medium sprites,” Yoongi told the attendant once she moved to take his order. You tried your best to look occupied, not wanting to look like you were waiting on the mint-haired boy even though you most definitely were.

Within a minute, he moved towards you, drinks in either hand and a sheepish smile on his face.

“So, uh… this is awkward.” He admitted honestly, joining you as began to walk away from the concession stand, deciding the spare the innocent concession girl from the unfortunate conversation that was about to unfold.

“Super awkward.” You affirmed with a nervous chuckle, hands gripping around your bucket of popcorn.

He nodded.

“Hey, so,” He came to a stop suddenly, halting your stride. “I’m sorry if I caused problems for you the other night. I wouldn’t have… I mean, I didn’t know that you were… We were also both probably way too drunk–”

“No, no, honestly, don’t sweat it!” You were quick to cut him off, not wanting him to assume that he had done anything to make you uncomfortable that night. “I didn’t know who you were either. You seemed cool and hot and, you know… I wanted to. So… yeah. ”

Wow. This just nearly beat the moment Jimin walked in on you two in the scale of awkwardness. At least you weren’t sober then.

Yoongi nodded once more, “Cool. I also wanted to. But, um… listen, you’re a cool chick and all but you should know there’s someone else. Plus, there’s the whole you being my ex’s ex thing…”

Oh god. Was Yoongi… rejecting you? Fuck, he totally thought you were still coming onto him. How utterly humiliating.

“Yeah, no, gotcha. That can literally never happen again. It’s all good.” You laughed, purely because of how ridiculous this entire conversation was. He grinned back at you, remembering exactly why he liked you in the first place that night at Guyi’s.

“No hard feelings?” He offered you a crooked smile.

“Deal.” You mused, eyes falling on the two drinks in his hand. “So are you here alone?”

You watched in interest as Yoongi suddenly turned a shade of pink.

“No, actually… I’m here with a coworker.” He told you, a certain bashfulness to his tone.

“Oh, a coworker.” A knowing smirk grew.

“I’m kind of seeing him, I guess. I don’t know, it’s too soon for labels.” He shrugged.

“So you’re seeing your coworker. Scandalous.” You teased.

“Again, sorry. If you were literally anyone but Jimin’s ex-girlfriend–“

“Oh, shut up.” You rolled your eyes at his joke, making him laugh.

The sound of various screams rolled over the area, catching both of your attentions, undoubtedly belonging to the moviegoers in response to a scary scene that must’ve just played out.

“I’m not really into dinosaurs,” Yoongi admitted lightheartedly to which you giggled, agreeing.

“Where do you work by the way?” You made casual conversation. “I just realized I never asked.”

“I work at a daycare.” He told you, making your smile drop.

Right. The daycare.

You supposed that was the thing about ghosts. They tended to haunt you.

Your chest felt hollow once more as he took a sip from one of the drinks. “Not huge on snot and boogers but the pay is decent so who cares, right?”

“Whatever happened between you and Jimin? I mean, why did you guys break up?” You said suddenly.

It had just made its way out like word vomit, desperate to change the conversation. The last thing you wanted was for him to ask if you were at all familiar with the property.

Yoongi looked at you in surprise for a split second before shaking his head.

“Jeez, how ironic.” He said, mostly to himself.

“Huh?”

“No, nothing I just… it’s funny you asked me that. Because it was you. You were the reason we broke up.” He confessed, bringing the straw of his drink back up to his mouth.

Weirdly, a feeling of guilt washed over you at his words. It rendered you silent.

“At the time it pissed me the hell off. He was dumping me for an ex-girlfriend he hadn’t seen in what? Four years? Took a hit to my ego for sure.”

All you could do was stand there looking dumb. You hadn’t the slightest idea how to react to what he was saying. Part of you was… delighted? Happy that Jimin wasn’t as dedicated to that relationship as you feared he might’ve been. But another part, a much more prominent part, felt awful. Terrible that you had hurt Jimin so deeply that he couldn’t even commit himself to another person. That he couldn’t move on.

“But anyway, it was for the best. Weirdly he did me a favor. No point in being hung up on a guy who was still hung up on the past.” Yoongi paused suddenly, scrunching his nose as he shook out his mint locks. “Dammit, I sound like such a cliche bitter ex, huh?”

“At least you’re not the shitty ex who broke his heart.” You offered half-heartedly.

Yoongi stared at you for a moment, allowing himself to freely admire the girl who had captured Jimin’s heart all those years ago. Despite your otherwise neutral expression, there was a gloom around you that he couldn’t quite ignore.

He pressed his lips together, wondering if he could offer you any solace.

“If it makes you feel any better, there’s no guarantee it would’ve worked out even if you had stayed.”

Your head tilted in confusion. Yoongi stole a piece of popcorn cheekily, popping a piece into your mouth.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you told me yourself that night. You’re a city girl. You would’ve wanted to go see the world eventually and everyone knows Jimin has no plans to ever leave this tiny ass town. Maybe you just got the inevitable over with. So don’t beat yourself up over it.”

You were suddenly acutely aware that Yoongi had no idea that you and Jimin were back together. A wave of nausea rolled over you as you considered his words.

He was right, of course. You had always dreamed of making it out of here. Even when you were young and running down the halls of your grandmother’s house, your adventures took you far away, towards weather unlike your own, towards faces and cities you’d never recognize.

So what was it that you were doing now? Getting closure by opening up a chapter with Jimin you had closed years ago?

Jimin was the boy who had his kids' names picked out when he was in elementary school. He was the boy whose biggest dream was remodeling his parents' home so that it would one day fit his own family, the family that he wanted to start here. He was the boy who looked for you months after you went missing, and who ended a relationship because he was unable to let go of the past. He put his life on hold for you. And who was to say he wouldn’t do it again when you left?

Your feet felt heavy as if you were sinking into the dirt of the drive-in lot, crushing guilt piling onto you.

“Hey.” A voice called out, making both Yoongi and you turn to face whoever was trying to grab your attention.

It was Jimin. Of course, it was. You had gotten caught up in conversation, taking far too long to get snacks. It was only a matter of time that Jimin would head over to check in on you. His hands were tucked away in his jeans, expression unreadable as he eyed the two of you from where he stood.

“Oh. Hey.” Yoongi replied, eyebrows pulling up in surprise. His surprise was quickly replaced with confusion as Jimin walked over, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he took the snacks from you, always the gentleman.

“Sorry, I took so long. We bumped into each other and lost track of the time.” You explained awkwardly to your boyfriend through warm cheeks.

“I see that.”

You could see the way Jimin’s jaw was tense as if swallowing back words that weren’t exactly pleasant. You almost see the puzzle piece coming together in Yoongi’s mind as he looked at the two of you interact.

“Well… it was nice seeing you again. Good luck with everything.” You waved Yoongi goodbye, already heading back where Jimin had set up the car, eager to walk far from the second most awkward situation the three of you had found yourselves.

“You too.” You heard Yoongi called back, a note of disbelief in his tone, one that you forced yourself not to dissect further.

———————

You did your best to keep your eyes on the screen ahead of you, but the tension in the car was palpable. Jimin was taking those sharp short breaths through his nose like he always did when he was angry. You licked your dry lips.

“You’re upset.” You broke the ice.

“No, I’m not.”

You tilted your head against the car seat’s headrest, facing your troubled lover.

“Yes, you are.” Your tone took a soft timbre. “You’re doing that angry sulky thing you do.”

“I don’t sulk,” Jimin said, bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly.

“Minnie, you sulk.” You chuckled but failed to receive a chuckle back in return from him.

You straightened up in your seat.

“Nothing is going on between Yoongi and I.”

“I know.” He said.

Your brows furrowed at his words, “Okay. Then is it something else?”

Jimin said nothing, eyes pressed against the movie screen but clearly not paying attention to the film at all. You sighed.

“Can you roll your window up?” You asked. Your boyfriend met your eyes curiously, seeing that you had done so on your side before complying and rolling his up.

The second his window was up, you were unbuckling your seat belt and maneuvering yourself across the car and onto his lap.

Pressing kisses onto his neck, you felt as he noticeably relaxed, a soft sigh falling from his pillowy lips.

“Talk to me.” Your mouth traveled onto his jaw, kisses sweet and reassuring.

“I love you.” Was his breathy response, hands gripping to sides of your thighs, pulling you closer to him.

He couldn’t say how insecure seeing Yoongi made him feel. He didn't know how to say that if you left him once, what was to stop you from leaving him again? If he wasn’t good enough to make you stay all those years ago, what would be different this time?

“I love you too, Minnie.”

His hand found the side of your cheek, drawing your mouth into his, kissing you with intention.

You pulled back suddenly, “Wait, this isn’t talking.”

“Don’t wanna talk. Just wanna touch you.” His voice was lower than usual.

Your face flushed at his honesty, unsure of whether to press further. Ultimately you gave in.

“Okay.”

Your fingers curled into his t-shirt, tongue finding his, heavy breaths filling the small space of the car as you lost yourselves in each other.

Breaking the kiss with a groan, you pulled up at your shirt. You nearly laughed at the way Jimin had already begun to tug at your bra clasp before you had even successfully removed the garment from you.

The lacy bra fell down your body, tossed aside mindlessly as he pressed a kiss onto your chest, hand working your soft flesh. You let out a breath as he sucked the supple flesh into his mouth, thumb rolling over your pert buds.

“Wait, drop your seat back, I don’t want someone from another car seeing.”

Jimin nodded, leaving your chest to comply with your request. Immediately though, his hand found the back of your neck, pulling you towards him and into a kiss.

Making out in Jimin’s car was admittedly nostalgic — the two of you having spent many afternoons fooling around whenever you got the chance. And maybe that's what the two of you were going for, slipping back into each other in a way that came naturally.

You rolled your hips into his desperately, every inch of you buzzing at the way you could feel the way he had hardened underneath you.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He muttered as his thumb lolled over your sensitive nipple. You whimpered.

The sound took him back to the night of the bonfire when he had buried his head between your angelic thighs that night of the bonfire, your greedy fingers tugging at his scalp as you cried against the feeling of his tongue.

Fuck, he was hard.

His hand reached down to undo his jeans in desperation, the pressure of his strained cock in his thigh jeans too much to bare. His actions caught your attention, your teeth finding your bottom lip as you watched the anguished boy reach into his underwear and readjust himself.

Suddenly, his mouth was on yours again, hand angling one of your thighs so that he could grind his hips against it.

You were getting far more worked up than you anticipated, his hot mouth leaving marks across your exposed skin. You needed more of him.

“Do you wanna fuck me?” You asked innocently, hand pressed against his abdomen.

“Fuck yes.”

“Hm...”

Your hand dipped into his underwear, eyes glimmering in mischief as you pulled his cock out, wasting no time in working the shaft.

“Fuuuuuck.” Jimin’s voice was drawn out and pleading, chest rising and falling in rhythm to the pace your hand had set around his cock.

“Does it feel good, Minnie?” You cooed teasingly, sucking a bruise into his pretty neck.

You preened as his hips suddenly jerked up, a whine pushing past his swollen lips before he cleared his throat.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me. Sit on my cock already.” He begged.

You smiled into his skin, head moving back up to kiss him as you ran your thumb over his red tip, swallowing his moan.

“You feel so good in my hand though.”

You weren’t lying. Hot, engorged, and pulsing under your fingers, his cock was truly a fine piece of craftsmanship. If it weren’t for the cramped location that was the front seat of his car, you would’ve had your lips wrapped around him, using your tongue to remind yourself of every vein and ridge.

“I promise I’ll feel even better inside you.” He groaned.

“What’s the rush? I don’t remember you ever turning down a handjob.”

“And I don’t remember you being such a fucking tease. Clearly, things change.” He tutted.

You frowned at his tone but allowed one of Jimin’s hands to push its way between your legs and down your underwear.

You stifled a noise as he ran his fingers up and down your slit.

“Oh, love bug, you’re so wet. That for me?”

You fought back a blush, somehow still flustered at the way Jimin’s dirty talk after all these years.

“You got yourself this worked up over touching me, yeah? Fuck.”

A shutter ran through your body, pleasure running over you as he toyed with your clit. Your hand fell from his member altogether, finding leverage against his thigh as you pushed yourself closer to his feathery touches.

Your hips moved on their own accord, mouth opening as a silent moan tumbled out.

“Bet that feels so good, huh? So cute.” He praised, pinching one of your cheeks.

“Now whose teasing?” You pouted.

A whimper escaped you against your better judgment as his fingers suddenly made their way down, spreading you open as he lightly pressed against your entrance.

“Acting so tough but losing the act as soon as I touch you.” He placed a kiss against your head, spurred on by the way you had suddenly become pliant and placid under his touch. “You're practically sucking my fingers in.”

You weren’t certain if the whine that greeted him in response was from his words or the way he pulled his hand back every time you tried to sink onto his fingers.

“Please.”

“Sorry, angel. I’m not gonna finger fuck you. Just gonna sit here and play with what’s mine.”

Jimin was not usually particularly possessive but god was it hot.

If his fingers hadn’t immediately moved back to roll over your clit, you might have had the energy in you to complain, but instead, you found yourself plaint in his arm, thighs trembling.

“I’ll... shit... I’ll cum if you keep that up.”

“Bummer. Guess there won’t be any need to fuck you then.”

“Dammit! Just fuck me, Minnie!”

“Hm... I dunno, I think I’m going to need a little bit more convincing before I do–“

“Oh, please, please!” You were rambling before he could finish his sentence. “Fill me up, Minnie. I need it so badly. I can take it I promise.”

“H-Holy fuck, okay. Dirty fucking mouth. Come here, baby.”

And just like that, you pushed yourself back up onto your knees, moving to hover over Jimin’s painfully erect cock.

Your boyfriend’s hands cradled your hips as you aligned the two of you, kneading the soft flesh tenderly.

“I love you.” You promised as you sank down. He threw his head back as you fell into the rhythm that felt as natural as breathing with him.

“Damn right you do, you're my fucking girl. Mine.”

He loved the way you moved with him - loved the way you felt like the piece he was missing. He loved everything about you and couldn’t help but shower you with praise as you rode his cock, wishing he could give you more than just car sex. He felt helpless near you, nowhere near as confident as he came across. You were spectacular in every single way, smiling as you leaned over to kiss him.

——

“Tell me about New York City,” Jimin ran his fingers down your arm.

The two of you had long forgotten about Jurassic Park, now reclothed and cuddled up in the back of his car.

You raised an eyebrow, “Honesty? It’s loud and dirty. Not to mention traffic is shit.”

“That sounds… terrible?”

“It is,” You breathed, “But it’s not. It’s the perfect place to disappear. No one gives you a shit about what you’ve got going on, no matter how fucked up you feel. Everyone is just trying to deal with their own chaos and get through the day.”

“Sounds kind of lonely.” He muttered. You hummed in contemplation, wondering how it was that you felt just the opposite. It was weirdly comforting to know that no matter your story, those in the city had seen worse.

“Did you know that when you’re deep in the city, there isn’t a single star in the night sky. Not a single one.” You recounted.

Jimin tilted his head, “What do you mean there are no stars?”

“It’s like they’ve all gone missing and the sky is just this massive empty black hole.”

“How can there be no stars? Where do they go?” He laughed.

“My theory? The city needs so much power to run that they had to steal every star from the sky above them… Though I’m told it’s something called light pollution that just covers the stars.”

“I like your theory better.” He smiled.

You turned towards the massive screen, watching as dinosaurs wreaked havoc.

“There’s a complex above the bar I used to work at. They have a rooftop that you’re not technically supposed to access but everyone does anyway. At night you have the most perfect view of the city skyline. The sky is just this hazy gray color but the further out you look, the lights from the surrounding buildings start to look like little stars sprinkled on the ground. I’ve always thought of it as New York’s version of the night sky. Like looking at the world upside down. It’s just… spectacular.” You marveled.

You could still see it so vividly in your mind, how the empty sky glowed and the buildings twinkled.

“You’ve always had stars in your eyes,” Jimin said suddenly, eyes fixated on you. You turned to meet his gaze.

“Hm?”

There was an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face, “Do you remember the first night we met?”

You blinked, taken aback by his abrupt question.

“Hoseok introduced us. Second year of high school. Homeroom.”

Jimin shook his head.

“Do you remember the last home football game of our freshman year?”

Freshman year? Football game? Yeah, you remembered that.

“I mean, yeah. That was before I decided I hated school functions and only wanted to hang out with social rejects and lowlives. First and only high school football game I attended. Why?” You pondered.

“You and Hoseok were standing on the top of the bleachers. I think the two of you were trying to figure out how to climb the announcer building without dying or getting caught.” Jimin went on to recount.

“Oh, snap! I remember that! We did it, too. I remember it took me ages to convince Guyi to come climb up. Hoseok got a bunch of kids to come and join us… You were there?”

Jimin nodded at you, also remembering the way you and the thick-framed girl were close back then.

Jimin actually remembered much more than that. He recalled almost vividly how he and a few friends were called to follow the rowdy boy he knew from history class and how he led them through the bleachers and toward side the side of a building. There were two girls sitting on top already, the louder of the two turned around and waved at the newcomers, before turning back towards the sky, legs stretched out in front of her as she chatted with her best friend.

The other girl you were with, which he would later learn was Guyi, was sitting away from the edge, arms wrapped tightly around herself as she shivered at the night’s chill. She looked uncomfortable and he could hear her muttering about wanting to go back down but you insisted that the view of the stars was better where up here, leaning back on your palms as you faced the night sky.

He was taken by you immediately and spent the rest of the time on the roof glancing your way in hopes even just a quick peek of how the twinkling lights reflected off your irises.

You were all he could think about, even as the principal came screaming at you guys to come down. He thought of you as his older brother Jihoon drove him back home, silent in his seat as he stared up at the very same sky that captured your attention. He thought of you throughout that following summer and the very first day of your sophomore year, when he finally worked up the courage to tell Hoseok how he felt, leading the more extroverted boy to introduce the two of you.

And he had loved you ever since. Even now he loved you, eight years later, sat on Hoseok’s couch as you and the people you grew up with all played a drinking game, the movie since wrapped up, and the function heading back to Hoseok’s place.

He watched as you smiled and laughed with the others and imagined a world in which this could become your guys' new normal. Where every day could be just like how things were and he could just love you as easily as breathing.

But real life was never as easy as fantasies. Real-life consisted of messes and trauma and hurt feelings; there was no glossing over the past four years. And the more Jimin drank from his cup, the harder it was to keep up this game of pretend the two of you agreed on. One day you would have enough and you would leave him again.

He knew this was temporary - he agreed to it after all. He had kept you in this town despite how much he knew it hurt you to be here. Truthfully, as he sat on the couch getting far more inebriated than he should’ve, Jimin was angry. Perhaps with himself, perhaps with the world, perhaps with both — it didn’t matter in the end.

Because every day with you meant waiting for the day you would leave and what was he to do but keep on loving you?

He felt helpless.

“Where did you go?” Were his words as you sank back next to him on the couch, having been eliminated from the game taking place at the coffee table. Hoseok, Gwen, and a few other familiar faces were still sitting around it, laughing and joking with one another drunkenly.

“Huh? What do you mean? I was sitting right there.” You giggled, glancing down at the cup of liquor that Jimin had in his hand. “Don’t tell me you’re still a lightweight, Minnie?”

He was boiling, and the words were spilling up and over faster than he could make sense of.

“Where were you, Y/N? I tried to find you I– You left me.”

Something was wrong. You could hear it in his words, and see it in the way his glossy eyes threatened to spill over. He brought his cup back up to his mouth, taking a large sip. You took it from him the second you realized just how drunk he was.

“Hey, that’s enough… let’s go outside, okay? Get some air.” You were up on your feet in an instant, eyes flickering over to the group to see if anyone had heard.

“You left me,” Jimin repeated.

“Jimin. Please.” There was a desperate look in your eyes, clearly not wanting to have this conversation with other people present.

Blinking away the lump in his throat, he got up from the couch and followed you out of the room, slipping through the sliding glass door onto the patio.

The patio door shut with a quiet click, the chill of the cold night greeting you both.

“How did you just... pack your bags and leave it all behind? Leave us behind? I thought you loved me.” Jimin wiped away at his cheeks blindly, unsure of when he started crying.

“I did— Minnie, I do.” You tried your best to keep your voice level, growing emotional at the topic at hand and at the man you loved hurting.

“Was I not enough of a reason to stay?”

Your mouth opened and closed repeatedly as you struggled to answer him. You, just like him, were intoxicated and nowhere in the right state of mind to be having this conversation.

“I mean, fuck, love bug! You just left!” His voice pitched up in disbelief, clearly not aware of his volume raising as well.

You were trembling. Though from the cold or the guilt you weren’t sure.

“I-I know, I-”

“You just left and never came back? This is your home–”

“Don’t fucking say that!” You snapped, surprising both you and Jimin.

A tsunami of emotion crashed into you.

“My parents are dead, Jimin. And I know you get it, I know you lost your brother but… Minnie, I couldn’t breathe! I-I felt trapped, and… god, after they died— it was me who was dying. Yes, I was wrong to leave but I was young and hurting and.. I just couldn’t let this town kill me too.”

Your hands found your face, covering it as a wave of melancholy rushed over you.

“I was supposed to be in that fire. I ran off to Grams because of a stupid, meaningless fight with my mom. After they died, I spent an entire year wondering if I shouldn’t have just died right there with them.”

You couldn’t bear to look up at Jimin. You couldn’t bear to see the pity in his eyes as you laid out the worst of you for him to hear.

“The second I stepped out of this town was the first real breath of air I had taken since they died. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing with my life but I know that this town stopped being my home the second they died.”

Any and all anger had melted away from the orange-haired man.

“Y/N–”

You looked up suddenly, frown furrowed and eyes blurry with tears.

“I don’t need forever. I just need right now, okay, that’s what you said to me the night of the bonfire. You said that, remember?”

“I remember.” He sounded sorrowful.

“I love you, Minnie. I never stopped loving you. But they’re gone.” You mourned, breaths uneven. “And they’re everywhere I look in this town. I mean… why can I come back but they can’t? How is that fucking fair?!”

You were nearly inconsolable, watery eyes barely widening as your face was suddenly taken into Jimin’s hands, his thumbs brushing past your wet cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. You’re right. I’ve already asked so much of you. This town has taken too much.” His eyes searched yours. “I... I wish you would’ve told me. When they died… for a year you said nothing. I thought you needed your space so I gave it to you, but I never would have if I knew you were planning to leave. What if I could’ve helped? You helped me when we lost Jihoon, remember?”

“I know...” Your answer was lackluster. Because you didn’t have an answer for him. You didn’t know why you pushed away those who loved you when your parents first died.

Was it teenage naivety? Was it fear of losing anyone else?

You wished you could give the sweet boy a solid answer. But you weren’t even sure that sober you could. God, he deserved so much more than you had given him.

“It was you and me against the world, remember? Through all the shit and garbage life throws at us. You were my person. You still are.”

“I just… there is so much out there, Jimin. So much this small town can never offer. If you only saw the cities, the kinds of people that come in and out.” You emphasized, suddenly inspired.

“What if… what if you come with me.” Your voice was small, knowing the impossibility of what you were asking him.

His eyes told you the answer to your question he even spoke.

“Bug, I… My family needs me here. Everything is here… I don’t know if I can just leave. This… this is my home.” His brows fell, rubbing your cheek apologetically.

“I know. But I can’t let you put your life on hold for me. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I strung you along for another four years. When I leave I don’t want you holding onto me. You deserve to move on and find a life here like you’ve always wanted.”

“The life here that I always wanted was with you.” Jimin cried, pulling you into him.

You buried your face into his neck and for a moment the two of you just held each other and cried.

“I’m sorry.” You said, knowing that neither of you could do this anymore.

“I’m sorry, too.” He held you tighter.

The game of pretend had drawn to a close and neither of you had won.

—

Your grandmother was awake and doing a crossword in the kitchen when you walked back home later that night without Jimin.

“Hi, darling.” Your grandmother greeted, only noticing the way your hair stuck onto your wet cheeks once you came into the kitchen light.

“Oh, bless your little cotton socks, come here.”

She held you as you cried — she cried too, knowing that this meant goodbye in more ways than one.

She slept in your bed that night, holding you close in a way that she did for your mother and that your mother once did for you. There was so much you could never repay your grandmother for. You’d spend the rest of your life calling her from every city apologizing if that's what it took for her to forgive you for choosing to leave once again. But even if hadn’t told your grandmother you were leaving, even if she didn’t help you pack your bags that very next morning, she would forgive you because all she ever wanted was for you to follow your heart.

The same heart that had her drop you off at Jimin’s the next day.

Your knuckles rapped a somber tune onto his door, the sun pleasantly hitting on your skin, very polar opposite to how cold your insides felt.

You could hear a scuffling from inside the shed, suddenly embarrassingly aware of how little soundproofing Jimin’s room had. Thank goodness it was far from the main house.

“Y/N?” Jimin called out, the door handle turning.

Panicking, you gripped the handle, holding the door shut.

“Wait! Don’t open the door.” You warned, not exactly sure what came over you.

“Why? Bug, what’s wrong?” Jimin sounded concerned but let go of the handle regardless.

You fought with your thoughts for a moment.

“I can’t... If I see your face I’ll...”

You were a coward. You swore this time you wouldn’t just disappear, you had seen the pain you had caused him. But even still, even when you came to tell him you were leaving, you couldn’t bear to see his face. You could not see the face of the man you loved so much and tell him you were leaving him. You just couldn’t.

You didn’t feel strong or brave or anything Jimin insisted you were. Hand pressed against the closed door to Jimin’s room, you felt small and pitiful, far from someone who should be asking what you were about to do.

“I’m going to say something. It doesn’t need a response now, okay?” You called out, loud enough so he could hear.

You swallowed roughly, your throat dry. “My bus ride back home is today. Noon.”

Silence fell.

Your heart was pounding in your throat, nearly blocking out the words you had spent all night rehearsing.

“If you don’t show up, I’ll go. And I won’t come back. I mean it. I want you to move on. You have to try. Don’t give up your life for me.”

Jimin was just on the other side of the door, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, having just rolled out of bed. You didn’t explain yourself further, and perhaps you didn’t need to. He mulled over your words in his head.

If he didn’t show up, you’d hop on the train and slip out of his life forever.

“But if you show up...” you trailed off as if losing your nerve. But he understood all the same.

If he showed up to stop you, you’d stay.

You knew he could never physically ask you, but if he wanted you to stay, you would. Just seeing him would crumble your resolve and you’d stay with him here forever, even if it killed you.

“This isn’t a test or anything.” You said after a moment as if the thought came to you suddenly. “I know you love me. You don’t have to prove that to me.”

His shoulders sank, realizing what you were asking of him.

“I just... I didn’t give you a choice last time.”

Your words wrapping around Jimin like an old shirt— warm but ill-fitting.

How many nights had he dreamt of you saying those exact words? How many times had he pictured the night you left going different, with you telling him your plans of leaving and him convincing you to stay? Nothing would’ve changed and you’d go back to spending every night tangled up together and every day in his passenger seat, window cracked and wind brushing past your hair as you sang along to one of his playlists.

All he ever wanted was to go back to loving you like he used to. Loving you and imagining the life the two of you would build here.

“I-I’ll stay here and… and love you and figure out all my emotional garbage. I won’t leave you again.” Your voice was shaking. “If you ask me to, I’ll stay.”

Tears found Jimin’s eyes.

From the moment he met you, way back in high school, you had talked about seeing the world. You had big dreams that couldn’t fit in this tiny town. You were larger than life and he always knew to an extent that he have to spend the rest of his life running in order to catch up to where you were.

He just never thought you’d run further than he could go.

Don’t give up your life for me, you had said as you offered to do exactly that for him.

He saw the spark behind your eyes whenever you spoke of the city. He saw the way you turned into a shell of yourself at old memories. He would break his own heart ten times over before he would ever keep you here.

But you would break your own heart ten times if it meant you could save his heart from breaking again. Because if he wanted you to say, you could try to be happy here. Maybe you could try to be happy and try to be with Jimin and try for a nice ordinary life. You wouldn’t stay for you but you would stay for him.

Because you loved him far more than you loved yourself.

“If this is goodbye, then just know that… I love you. And I’m sorry.”

Sorry was all you could ever feel in this town. Sorry for all the hurt you caused and the mess you always left behind. Sorry for yourself and the life you would never get back. Perhaps it would’ve been better if you had turned down Jimin’s advances that night at the bonfire. More likely it would’ve been better if you hadn’t come back at all.

But the one-sided conversation through Jimin’s door was your best attempt at undoing a fraction of the hurt you had caused him, however pathetic it was.

——

You were standing amongst a crowd of moving bodies, watching anxiously as other buses began to board.

“He might show up.” You muttered to yourself. “It's not too late, he might show up.”

“Darling!”

You heard your grandmother call out, and you scoured the crowd before finding her, a breath of relief finding you. She had driven you to the bus station and left momentarily to use the bathroom for a moment — you feared you might have to board your bus without seeing her again.

“They just called for my bus.” You said the second she was within earshot. She looked around with you, watching as a line began to form in front of your bus. But your eyes wandered further, looking past the line, past your bus, and Elvie knew at once who you were looking for.

“You don’t have to go, you know.” She placed a hand on your cheek, pulling your attention back onto her.

“I know…” You nodded back at her, biting on the inside of your cheek.

“…But you want to.” She acknowledged. You were her blood after all. And no time apart could undo the way she knew her grandchild.

You met her eyes regretfully, guilt written all over you.

“I’ll call you every week.” You promised.

She pinched your cheek, “Even every month would do. I will miss you greatly. And I love you dearly.”

“I love you, Grams.” You pulled her into a tight embrace.

“Stay safe, darling.”

The two once estranged family members shared one final hug before the final call for your bus rang out. Shooting the bus station one final once over for a shade of orange, you waved your grandmother farewell and joined the line, boarding and sitting on the bus within a few minutes.

Elvie stayed at her spot for ten minutes, watching as the bus drove off and took her grandchild with it, waving goodbye even when you were too far to even see her.

A tear ran down her face as she clasped her hands together, hoping that you might find whatever you are continuing to search for.

A man joined her just then, emerging from behind the wall where he had been hiding, yanking off his grey beanie to reveal a bright mop of orange hair.

“There you are. Thought you were going to stand behind that wall forever.” Elvie acknowledged him, wiping away her tears.

“Sorry... And sorry to bombard you while you were on the way to the bathroom. Did you manage to slip it into her bag?” He asked.

“Of course I did. She was too busy looking for you to even notice.” Elvie reassured, watching as Jimin stared off in the direction you had left.

Jimin wasn’t sure when you’d find it, but eventually you’d find the black cassette tape he had dedicated to you all those years ago.

“It’s a playlist I made of all the songs that remind me of you.”

If it weren’t for you rummaging through his car, the tape would’ve continued to slip his mind— a forgotten relic forged from the time in which he swore he would never see you again. Carefully selected songs forming a cacophony of bitterness, longing, anger and sorrow.

After you left him this morning, Jimin lay across his bed, listening to your mixtape for the first time in years. An emotional time capsule in the form of plastic film and faded sharpie. He remembered vividly what every song meant, he remembered every raw unfiltered feeling he held for the last four years.

He held onto you for so long.

"Thank you for giving that to her."

“I have to ask… I mean, you showed up. You could’ve given her that mixtape in person. Why hide?” Your grandmother pressed.

“I had to see her. But I knew if she saw me she wouldn’t have left, and she would’ve continued to hurt herself just for me.” Jimin’s eyes welled up with emotion. “She deserves so much more than that, even if she doesn’t see it yet.”

Because you were the girl with stars in her eyes and big dreams and he was just the boy who loved you just enough to let you go.

------------------

THE END and before you yell at me, please respect my artistic vision EEEEP!! I love these characters and want what is best for them and the only way to do that is to honor the life that both truly deserve, even if that means it's not a life with each other. I thought long and hard about how to end this series, just putting that out there bc I know a bittersweet ending can be disappointing. AAHHH ILY MWAH! <3

#bts smut #jimin smut #park jimin #bts jimin #bts fanfics #bangtan smut #jimin x reader #jimin fanfic #jimin ff #bts ff #bts fanfic

329 notes · View notes

callsigns-haze · 2 months

Text

Out of All: Chp 1

Jake Seresin x OC! Anna Bradshaw

Brothers' Best Friend Series! Follow along as these characters navigate the treacherous waters of love, loyalty, and desire, all while facing the ultimate taboo: falling for your sibling's best friend. From heart-pounding moments to steamy encounters, this series is a rollercoaster of emotions that will keep you hooked until the very end. Brace yourself for intense romantic tension, sizzling chemistry, and enough drama to keep you guessing. Are you ready to embark on this captivating journey?

This chapter includes explicit sexual content with detailed descriptions of sexual activity and intimacy between characters. Scenes depict physical intimacy, including kissing, touching, and biting, with characters described in states of undress. Emotional intensity is explored, encompassing themes of longing, desire, and vulnerability, with brief references to past trauma. Characters may be shown consuming alcoholic beverages, and mature themes such as casual relationships.

You awaken with damp locks cascading around your shoulders, the remnants of a hasty shower leaving your hair slightly damp. The notion of lying bare and weary in your bed holds no sway over you, not today. This is your respite from the world's demands, a day designated for absolute inertia.

Yet, the presence of your older brother, Bradley, imposes a modicum of propriety upon your morning ritual. You toss aside the cozy embrace of your bedclothes and reach for garments, a black sports bra and snug booty shorts, enveloping your frame in layers that shield your bareness. A gray zip-up sweatshirt becomes a casual adornment, tied around your waist in a laissez-faire manner.

Your hair, now only mildly damp, is gathered and pinned back with a claw clip, a functional arrangement that frees your nape from the clinging strands. Drawing back the gray curtains, a panorama of the ocean unfolds before you, a sight both captivating and serene. The dawn paints the sky in delicate hues of pink, intermingled with whispers of orange and faded purples, casting a spell of tranquility over the horizon.

Venturing into the kitchen, you encounter Bradley, already immersed in the morning routine. He offers you coffee, a gesture met with a swift refusal, accompanied by a reminder of your disdain for the bitter brew. His presence, always punctual and ever-prepared, serves as a reminder of the responsibilities that linger beyond your sanctuary.

The tension between you simmers beneath the surface, a testament to diverging paths and unspoken expectations. Bradley, with his well-intentioned gestures and earnest advice, seeks to guide you toward a future he deems promising. Yet, your heart beats to a different rhythm, anchored in a passion that defies conventional wisdom.

Words are exchanged, terse and laden with unspoken truths. You assert your autonomy with a fervor born of frustration, demanding recognition as an adult capable of charting her own course. Bradley, stoic yet remorseful, concedes to the weight of your words, his embrace a silent admission of fallibility.

But beneath the veneer of reconciliation lies a deeper discord, a clash of ambitions and aspirations. For you, music is not merely a hobby but a lifeline, a refuge from the burdens that threaten to engulf you. Yet, to Bradley and others, it remains a folly, a dream unworthy of pursuit.

Twelve years have passed since you first embarked on this journey, seeking solace in distant shores and unfamiliar melodies. Yet, the specter of familial expectations looms large, a constant reminder of the rift that separates you from their world of certainties.

"Small steps," you plead, a plea born of desperation and resolve. And though Bradley offers his assurances, you know that the road ahead is fraught with uncertainty, a path illuminated by the flickering flame of your unwavering determination.

---

You ain't never been in a spot quite like this before, where everything's about the physical but nothin' about the feels. Dressin' up or gettin' ready didn't matter much when you knew your clothes would end up scattered and your makeup smeared, and your hair—well, it was destined to be a mess once his hands got tangled in it.

Bradley had golf in the mornin', so he cleared out 'round ten forty, leavin' the apartment empty. Expected him back for lunch, but he had other plans, hittin' up a bar with his buddies. Didn't bother you none. Last day before work kicks in, you got the place all to yourself.

Scoured through your closet like it meant somethin' what you wore. Knew one thing for certain, though—lingerie. Got a few pairs, some more risqué than others. Had a soft spot for your sage green set. Thin, barely there, and entirely see-through. Just one tug, and it slipped right off.

Opted for a denim skirt, casual yet classy—that was the aim. Didn't wanna give off any vibes like it was a date or nothin', just keepin' it cool.

Grabbed a plain white tee, makin' sure it was thick enough to conceal the lace underneath. Checked yourself out in the bathroom mirror. Finally felt like yourself. Brown curls cascadin' freely, baby cow eyes sparklin' in the lightest eyeshadow. Lips glossed with a hint of strawberry, nails painted in the faintest shade of pink with swirls of white. You felt it. You felt like the girl.

Still had some time 'fore the taxi showed up. Decided against drivin', 'cause you knew you wouldn't be in the mood afterward.

Recently chopped your hair. Used to be long and wavy, but you snipped it up to your chest. Suitin' you better, truth be told. Waves actually cooperated, and your hair finally laid right. Pinned up the top strands, knowin' any tie-up wouldn't survive the night.

Phone buzzed from the bathroom windowsill. Couldn't help but grin seein' it was a text from Jake.

Jake: You still up for six?

Had to play it cool. No emotions, just sex.

You: Yeah! Should be able to swing by.

Kept it simple. Didn't wanna seem too eager or too disinterested. Both of you were clear—a relationship wasn't on the table.

Jake: Great, see you then.

Stepped out of the elevator, headin' for the fourth door. Only been to his place once, but you remembered your way around. Knocked on the wooden door, standin' on the black mat as you waited.

Door creaked open, revealin' a tall man with a buzzed haircut and a face that told tales. He smiled, askin', "Here for Jake, right?" Gave you a bit of a start, but his question eased the tension. Nodded, returning the smile as he hollered for Jake. He stepped aside, introducin' himself.

"I'm Javy. 'Bout to head out anyway if you're wonderin'." Nodded back, offerin', "Anna, pleasure." He nodded in return, informin' you that Jake was down the corridor before takin' off.

You made your way to Jake's room, but before you could even enter, he was on you, attackin' your neck with fervor. Wrapped your arms around him as he left his mark, each bite sendin' shivers down your spine. "Jake...damn!"

He smirked, continuin' his assault. Shut the door behind him, pressin' you against it. Grabbed your thighs with intent, demandin' you to jump, and you obliged.

Breath hitchin', groans escalatin' into moans. Couldn't help yourself, not with him. Every time, you lost all control, and it only amused him more. "Look at you, ain't even touched you properly, and you're already a mess."

And the mess was only just beginnin', for the fourth time.

You both lie there, chests heaving, the echo of passion still reverberating in the air. Six o'clock came and went, and now it's nearly nine. Three hours of entwined bodies, three hours of him taking you to heights you never knew existed.

"You're somethin' else," Jake murmurs, shaking his head in wonder as you both share a breathy laugh, nestled under his oversized covers. You gaze at him, a smile tugging at your lips. For the first time in sixteen years, you feel something stir within you, a sensation akin to a long-lost myth or fairy tale.

"I could say the same," you reply, exhaling softly as he draws you closer, pulling you against his chest. It catches you off guard, but you relax into his embrace, resting your head against his heartbeat, a rhythm that feels like a forgotten melody.

"What's the time?" you inquire, both of you aware of the impending need to part ways. Agreed to wrap things up before nine, with work looming on the horizon. Tomorrow marks your return to music, the beginning of a new chapter in your life.

"It's eight fifty-seven," Jake answers, meeting your gaze with a knowing look. You nod, running your fingers through his tousled hair, savoring the fleeting moments.

You rise from his chest, reluctantly disentangling yourself to get dressed. He sits up beside you, the covers cascading around him as he slips into sweatpants. His gaze lingers on your back as you slip into your lingerie, his lips tracing a path along the sensitive skin of your neck. His hands find their way to your curves, a gentle massage that sends shivers down your spine.

"Jake..." you start, a hint of urgency in your voice. He understands, but the reluctance lingers. He wants you to stay, to lose track of time in each other's arms.

"Jake..." you repeat, a bit firmer this time, and he relents, knowing you have to leave.

You rise, and he walks you to the front door. Tonight was unforgettable, but tomorrow holds obligations, and Bradley would launch a search party if you didn't resurface soon. You smile as he opens the door, his smirk a bittersweet farewell.

"When will I see you next?" he asks, a hint of longing in his voice.

"Next Saturday, same time?" you propose, already looking forward to the next rendezvous.

"Sounds like a plan. See you then, Chick."

A/n: This whole series is a dedication to @callsign-magnolia for her birthday...I was going to post on Monday but I guess this is a little early gift!

tagging:

@callsign-magnolia

@shanimallina87

@callsign-dexter

@horseslovers2016

@rosiahills22

@djs8891

@hookslove1592

@emma8895eb

@hardballoonlove

@kmc1989

@dempy

@mamachasesmayhem

@senawashere

@buckysteveloki-me

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@itsmytimetoodream

@jessicab1991

@ahh-chickens

@dingochef

@dizzybee03

120 notes · View notes

thesilmarillionblog · 18 days

Text

PROTECT ME FROM WHAT I WANT

Chapter 1: Don't try to fight the storm, You'll tumble overboard.

Summary: You've been working with Butcher and his team since your sister died in a plane crash caused by Homelander, and months later, you met Soldier Boy. Drowning between hatred and your desire to have your vengeance, you have to face your feelings for Soldier Boy eventually.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Female! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Hurt, Language, Asshole Soldier Boy, Mention of Death

Word Count: 2106

A/N: English is not my first language.

Its been a year since the greatest supe ever known of America woken from his forty years of sleep, and it did not even take a large amount of time for your thoughts to revolve around him only. Oppressed with grief, your life has been consuming you inside since your sister died in a plane crash caused by Homelander. It changed many things. It made Butcher and his team find you; it turned you into something you couldn't name anymore. Each passing day was the same. You were all alone with despair when darkness took over the daylight; you knew you did not even mourn properly for your sister. What's worse was that you had fought just before the flight. Funny, that was the only time you two had a fight in twenty-three years, and it was over for nothing. Time heals, they say. They are all wrong. It won't heal a shit till it kills and throws you away with one last heavy strike.

The day you rescued Soldier Boy was definitely a hard day to forget. He looked like an unleashed, savage animal freed from a cage. Actually, he was literally something like that. Ben was so hard to control. Besides, the worst thing about himself was not his character; it was his erratic, nuclear-muscled chest, ready to blow up anytime. It was a hidden menace under his thick skin.

At first, you weren't sure if Homelander or Ben were worse. Probably both were pure supe evils in their own unique way. After all, intentionally or unintentionally, they both hurt many people.

All things aside, at least you were certain about one thing you truly craved for. The only thing. Homelander must die.

Walking on tiptoe, your heart was beating fast, and it was not the first time. Your palm was sweaty around the pistol, and your knuckles probably turned white. No need to be humble; you were a good shooter, a very good one, but you weren't sure if you could aim right into the eyes of the supe you were looking for when the right time came. Ben gave you the big eye and almost chuckled. You knew his senses as a supe were highly developed, and that made things embarrassing for you. In addition, the house being so silent and dark was another problem.

You did not know when all these things started when he made you feel such things. Maybe it was just a silly and temporary crush that would disappear sooner or later. However, as time passed, the way you reacted around him just grew irrevocably stronger. It was getting out of hand or already did. You hated that feeling but loved it; you also despised it and became obsessed with it. He was hard to ignore in every way, especially when he was that heartbreakingly handsome.

“Hey,” he said mockingly. “Why so excited suddenly?”

You were both grateful and angry with Butcher for leaving you alone with Ben in such a place like this. You were chosen to work with Ben most of the time since he broke Hughie's arm, got into a fight with Annie and Frenchie, and threw Butcher to the tree. Lucky for him, he was on Compound V, so, no one wanted to spend a single second with him. Especially Hughie was scared as fuck of him.

The only one who did not have a fight with Ben was Kimiko, as she never said a word at all that could make him mad in any way. Though you knew Kimiko was even more savage talking to Ben with sign language, you never dared or needed to translate her words directly.

Checking around nervously, you took a deep breath. “I am not excited.”

“Don't worry, it's not a big deal,” he continued, ignoring what you've just said. “I am used to such things.”

“What things?”

“You know,” he sighed. “Knowing that the strongest supe in the world is with you right now in this house and all alone got you wet. I’m sure your clit is flickering with such excitement that you might cum any moment.”

Judging by the look on his face as he went on acting his fingers obcenely and not stopping talking in an inappropriate way, he was amused. You just wanted to shut his voice completely down. He was not familiar with embarrassment at all. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, waiting for him to finish his pornographic ted talk.

Taking back some steps from him “Have you totally lost your mind? Every single thing you say is so gross and nasty,” you finally said. “You're so delusional; you should have been an author.”

It wasn't the first time he teased you. His choice of words was getting more obscene each time, even though you never took them seriously. The things he said caused pathetic butterflies to punch your stomach hard. But you knew Ben was being like this to everyone. It was in his nature, after all.

“Say delusional one more time and see what happens.” His sharpened eyes were fixed on you.

Fuck Butcher.

“Ben,” you whispered nervously. You got closer to him and touched his chest hesitantly.It would be a terrible idea to get on Ben's sensitive nerves. It would be easier if Butcher was there. “Are you on coke?”

“Course I am.”

Pushing your hands away from his chest with a rough move, Ben looked around cautiously, searching for any sign of the supe.

You followed in his footsteps. “Do you hear anything?”

“No.”

Stopping for a moment, you sighed. You did not want to push his buttons any further. “Is it true that this Supe can play with memories? Does she change them? Like mind control?”

“Worse.”

You felt his posture suddenly get serious.

“How?”

“The slut has a strange talent that can make you see stupid things, things you desire the most. They’re all fake and all made up stuff. Total bullshit.”

“What happens if you see them, though?”

“It’s impossible to wake up if you are a little pussy. You'd trap yourself like a rat driven by pathetic fake scenarios just because your little brain is a weak shithole and you’re just too scared to face reality. That’s it."

The way he sounded made you even more curious.

“You sound like you experienced it,” you said, raising your eyebrows.

Judging by the way he sounded, you were sure he experienced every single thing he mentioned. But what could be Soldier Boy's nightmare or dream? You were dying to know what he desired the most. What on earth would be his dream? He always looked so confident and sure of himself. It was like there would be nothing in the world he would ever desire. Of course, it would be Crimson Cuntess. Remembering the way he looked at her with disappointment made your stomach crumble in pain and despair.

“Absolutely nothing,” he insisted. “Only pussies desire things they can't get, right? I am smart, and I can have everything I want, sweetheart.”

“I thought it would be Crimson Countess,” you murmered, hoping he would not get mad. You needed him to deny it so bad.

Looking at him with pleading eyes and waiting patiently, he looked genuinely lost in thought for a moment.

“Jealous?”

Looking away, you said, “Why on earth would I be jealous?” You would make him believe you easily if you did not sound that needy and weren't flushed. You could never be completely honest with him. How could you?

Putting his left hand on your chin, he murmured. “You’re so obvious.. Do you really think I’m not aware of the way you look at me?”

With a heavy heart, you looked up at him with beseeching eyes.

“I don't understand what you mean at all.”

“You do,” he insisted indifferently. “I know, you wish you were her, I know you’re so envious of her that you would even let me fuck you as I like it if I made a move, right?” he paused and snickered. Your heartbeat skipped at his harsh words.

You made a move to get away from him, but his grip on your chin tightened hard enough to hurt, so you stopped moving, surrending his cruelty for a moment to catch your breath and let him do whatever he had on his mind.

Despite his roughness, you put your hand on his daring one softly, savoring his touch unintentionally as you try to push him away with helpless and meaningless attempts, hoping to show your affection for him. He didn’t make a move. Getting even closer, his broad chest touched yours ungently. Ben curled his lips into a mischievous smile and lowered his hand to where your heart is. When you felt his forearm touch your nipple, you gasped for breath and struggled determinedly not to melt into his warm touch.

Knowing his hand could easily rip your heart from your chest in a second should have been enough to take him out of your heart and mind right there, but it was always easier to blame destiny and others for what happened and is about to happen. Moreover, his being that dominant, confident, and powerful made your stomach curl in excitement.

“You’re wrong, Ben,” you denied.

You were angry at yourself for being like this and feeling that way. Between all things.. your sister and everything that happened in the last few months- you let your thoughts be driven into something you should stay away from in the very first place. Coming to your senses and accepting the truth about yourself hurt more than Ben’s words. You could never be at his level, but you let your fantasies take over your logic.

As you struggled not to melt into his touch, you tried harder to get away from him, hoping it would convince him. You mumbled, “You’re hurting me.”

His grasp was indeed firm, but it did not hurt at all. You just wanted to save yourself from the intensity of his seductive presence since you did not know if you could resist this irresistible pull for one more minute.

He pulled away his hands from you but remained still.

“How can you fucking normals endure being that weak, huh? You know, I could kill you without even using half my strength, right? It must take great energy and luck to survive,” he said mockingly.

You wanted to say he was nothing without Compound V in his veins, that he wasn’t naturally the strongest but a made-up product. However, it wouldn’t be smart at all to say such a thing. Supes were not known for having reasonable conversations and handling criticism. Maybe Supes were physically the strongest breed, whose emotional and narcissistic fragility was suppressed under their thick skin. And Ben’s short temper wasn’t something you’d want to face.

You both jumped when a noise coming from the second floor filled the house. Ben’s eyes were down. He was probably nervous considering he could potentially be put to sleep by the supe. Unlike Ben, you took a step right up the stairs, tightening your grip on the pistol and holding your breath.

“Be fucking slow,” he warned you, but it was more like he meant to threaten you.

You turned to him and whispered, “Hey, who’s being a pussy right now?”

“Don’t fucking provoke me.”

“Hey,” you said, giving him a playful wink. “I’ll always protect you.” Just before he said something, you’d seen supe’s dark figure behind Ben. Your eyes were fixed on each other. His body tensed with anger as his patience grew thin. He was about to lose his temper, knowing he should kill her without meeting the eye of the fucking bitch. He simply did not know how to do it. Before he turned around, you shot at the darkness randomly, trying to stir panic in the supe. The darkness of the room was in your favor until you met the heinous eyes of the supe just before Ben caught her and slammed her on the floor with a furious growl.

next chapter

A/N: I'm not built for this.

#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #the boys series #jensen ackles #the boys #the boys tv #jensen ackles soldier boy #the boys season 3 #soldier boy the boys #the boys amazon #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles the boys #the boys soldier boy

71 notes · View notes