#i don’t care anymore. i don’t even want to work there that badly. i hope we both die

[erwinsvow]

Okay but shy/bunny reader being used to bestfriend!Rafe ditching her because he’s with some girl, she never points it out and somehow she always lets it go because she’s just a babyy and Rafe starts realising that they don’t hang out as much😭💖

it was hard seeing rafe go—always was, and always will be.

you tried to convince yourself you were used to it now, but the familiar ache in your chest when he'd say goodbye to you, topper, and kelce and walk away hand in hand with his flavor of the week was getting worse and worse.

before you'd realized you had feelings for rafe—beyond just the affection you gave to your close friends—you hadn't cared at all. you'd even encouraged it, same way you did with top and kelce, offering advice and recommending which flowers to bring, what places to bring them.

not that rafe ever really needed your help. it seems since the day he'd become your best friend, there was a line of girls hanging behind the two of you, seemingly waiting for their turn. at night, when it felt worse—and somehow it always did feel worse in your bed alone, wondering if rafe's was empty too and knowing that it wasn't—you tried to make yourself feel better.

you're still here, and they're not—that's how you tried. it worked for a little.

the newest girl had been around for a record three weeks, so even your usual bandaid for your shattered heart wasn't helping the wound heal.

so far, he'd skipped two meals, a day at the course, and half of a boat day to spend with her instead of you. you, kelce, and top that is. you'd hoped today was going to be different, walking back to top's jeep after lunch to head to the marina.

"you're not coming?" you call out to rafe, who was walking back in the direction of his own car. kelce and top are too far away to hear—getting into the front already. you were always stuck in the back, and you had never minded when rafe was there to keep you company.

rafe flicks his eyes over you, taking in the new dress you really shouldn't have bought just to see what kind of reaction you could get from him. your bag has your bikini in it and one of his button ups to cover you and he sees it poking out—white seersucker temporarily distracting him.

"rafe?"

"yeah. sorry, no. made plans with-"

"yeah, of course you did." you cut him off, and though even a few weeks ago you couldn't have imagined the vitriol in your voice, it comes out all too easy. "have fun."

you try to walk away but his footsteps follow—and damn his long legs, because he gets infront of you before you can escape.

"what, kid? you mad at me?"

you shouldn't say something. you shouldn't say anything.

"we're going to the boat. you said you were coming. i cut fruit for you."

"i-i'm sorry. top will eat it."

"it's not for him. that's not the point." the words teeter on the edge—wanting so badly to tell him that you miss him. that he never hangs out with you anymore, that he's choosing some girl over you and it stings worse than anything you've felt so far.

you're not sure when it started feeling so different—rafe's always done this. and standing two feet from the jeep, kelce sticking his head out the window to yell at you to get in, you realize you're going to reveal yourself if you don't shut up.

"have fun, rafe. sorry. bye."

you don't give him a chance to respond, but it doesn't take anything else for the gears to click. you're too quiet to ever admit it, too shy to say what you're really thinking, and rafe knows that—he's known it since he met you.

standing there, watching you drive away with kelce and top, he briefly wonders what the last time was he did something just with you. he can't even remember it. it all blurs together—late night runs for ice cream and breakfast while top and kelce were still passed out. the sweet way you smile at him and how your expression changes when he goes to the girl who's waiting for him. he gets in the car and can't decide which direction to turn—towards this girl or towards you.

on the boat, you kick up your feet and open your book, trying to drown out the chatter of kelce and top trying to get out of the marina and focus singularly on the romance in your hands rather than the one in your brain. you drown it out a little too much.

"that the one i got you?" rafe asks from somewhere next to you.

"god-" you exclaim, book slipping from your grip and thudding on the boat. "you scared me." catching your breath, you bend to pick up your book, but rafe beats you to it, picking it up and placing it on your lap.

"sorry."

"what happened to your plans?" rafe shrugs. you wish your heartbeat would slow down. you look down at your lap and rafe looks over you—exposed skin shiny with sunblock, a blue bikini he thinks he's never noticed before, matching nails that suit you.

"already had plans with you, remember?"

[ahundredtimesover]

I Want You to Stay (02) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 11.9k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Hiii really touched with all the love for this story! I don’t know about you but this hits harder with all the boys away and we’re missing them so badly. But we’ve got this! 💕 But thank you thank you for all the messages (sorry I can’t get to each one!) and the interest and excitement. Hope you enjoy this one ☺️

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

Despite hoping that he wouldn’t, Jungkook, in fact, pushes you further away on his second day on the job. 

To his defense, it was partly your fault. You smiled at him last night - perhaps due to your delicious dinner that you didn’t even know was from him - and it disarmed him. 

The words you uttered after just flew over his head and he just nodded, too out of it to confirm what you’d said. It probably had something to do about you not coming to his penthouse, because it’s Tuesday morning and you’re still not here. He’d expected that like yesterday, you'd prepare his breakfast, and after all that transpired, debrief after yesterday’s meetings and discuss the next steps. That was his routine with Lucas, and for all the things that you seemed to know and do right - from his room design, the doneness of his eggs, and his coffee - this was a miss. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be assisting me from the start of the day?” Jungkook says over the phone, his tone sounding annoyed. “I’ve been waiting for you since 6:30.”

Your heart drops at his words, the memory from last night of him agreeing to you sticking to the same schedule you had with Hoseok suddenly feeling like some made up scenario. You remember telling Jungkook that you go straight to the office the rest of the week; you’d only go to Hoseok’s house on Mondays to prepare his clothes and brief him because he’s able to manage from Tuesday onwards. Your new boss, for some reason, perhaps misheard your question. And now you’re the one in trouble. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you bring yourself to say, your voice in a panic because regardless of who’s in the wrong, making him wait is not a good start to his day nor yours, and especially not to your already rocky relationship. “I can get a cab then head to you.”

“So you want me to wait for you some more?” He chides, his dry laugh making you want to throw your phone just so you won’t hear his voice anymore. “Just stay wherever you are, but I want the meeting minutes from yesterday ready when I get there since you’re not here to go over them with me.”

Jungkook hangs up and your head thumping on your desk is immediate. It’s barely the start of the day and you already want to go back home and probably never come back. 

You left the office at 9 last night, knowing you were too exhausted to continue working on the annotated documents, and then got soaked in the rain on your way home. You planned on coming to work early - given that your boss didn’t require you to go to his penthouse, a claim you stand by - so you can continue, but now he wants the meeting minutes in an hour, and that isn’t usually due until three days later. 

Neglecting the sandwich you planned on eating for breakfast, you work on your notes from the first meeting and then move on to the next. Every footstep you hear makes you anxious, and you breathe a sigh of relief every time you find out it’s not him. Every minute counts and you’re thankful for each one. Until, of course, you run out of it. 

“Send them to me now and meet me in my office,” his voice echoes through the hallway that leads to his room. 

Jungkook walks straight past you and doesn’t even give you a look.

“Yes, sir,” you squeak, quickly sending the email then scurrying to where he is. 

You find him seated on his chair, his leg crossed over the other one as he goes through the notes on his iPad, his furrowed eyebrows making you sweat in worry. He doesn’t seem pleased. But from what you’ve witnessed so far, you doubt there’s much that pleases him.

He encircles words and scribbles on the sides, mumbling “incomplete,” “what does this mean,” and “this is not what I said.”

Jungkook sets the device on his desk and groans. He turns to you with a hard glare, and you clearly see just how displeased he is. Not that you have any defense - it’s your job to do what he asked in a manner that’s up to his standards - but you already felt discouraged in the morning, and your meal skipping caused you to lose focus in the afternoon, resulting in your less than satisfactory documentation of the meeting.

“Ms. Cho, do you know the value of these documents? And why I require them to be comprehensive and done on time?”

“Uh, ye-yes, sir,” you drag out.

“Why?”

It’s too early for this, you think to yourself. Clearly you know why they’re important; you’re just too tired to articulate the reasons to him. But you try, as the words form in your head. You’re about to say them when he stands from his chair and walks towards his desk, leans on the edge and then intently looks at you, as if he’s judging even the way you’re breathing or standing. And you’d probably fail, given how your body seems to cower in his presence. 

“Because decisions are made through them,” he says, drowning out your thoughts with his stern voice. “I attend numerous meetings everyday. Decision points can be buried in the discussions unless they’re documented properly. And even when they are, they’re not actioned upon immediately unless I have access to them and unless they’ve been processed and verified. I don’t leave those conference rooms and forget about what took place. They stay in my head, that’s why I ask you to write them down, and that’s why I require you to meet me first thing in the morning so that I can process them with you, and let those points guide me for the rest of the week.”

His glare continues, so does his voice getting louder. “My job isn’t just to sit around and listen to people. I make decisions. And it’s your job to make sure I have all the correct information to make them.”

“I… I understand, sir. And I… I apologize for the oversight,” you stutter, still unable to look at him. “But about this morning, uh… you, uh last night, I—”

“Was there an explicit statement from me about not having you come in the morning?”

“No, sir.”

He lets the silence draw out, perhaps to let your own words sink in. He does have a point. You stand by your claim that you’d asked, and he nodded, but you should also know that such gestures aren’t clear responses, and that’s on you to make sure that you’re both on the same page. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” you say with conviction. “I made an assumption when I should have clarified. And even then, it’s your first week as Vice President. I should be assisting you in all the ways I can.”

Jungkook watches your form, hands clasped together with your nails sinking into your skin. Your head is bowed down, unable or unwilling to look at him this whole time. He knows he’s at fault, too, but he’d never admit it; he’s not exactly the type to do that. 

You stand there in submission and a part of him wants to apologize, but that’s not the type of weakness he wants to show, not when he needs to establish authority and more importantly, distance.

“I require Lucas to still come every morning because that’s the only time we can debrief about the previous day’s activities,” he says, making his voice calmer now. “We go through the minutes, clarify things, finalize them, and then disseminate so that people don’t forget. Teams collaborate effectively when there’s accountability and when timelines are adhered to. It’s my job to make sure they comply. And that means it’s your job, too. I don’t have to remind you of your roles now do I, Ms. Cho?”

“No, sir,” you respond, finding the strength in you to finally look at him, his hardened stare still unnerving you. 

He uncrosses his arms and walks back to his seat. “My cousin and I work very differently from each other. It’s on you to adjust.” 

“Yes, Mr. Jeon,” you bow in acknowledgment. “I’ll be at your apartment at 6:30 every morning and I��ll do better with my documentation and preparation of all the files.”

Jungkook just hums then proceeds to work on something on his desktop, which you take as your cue to leave. You bow again and excuse yourself, but his voice stops you as you open the door.

“Push back this morning’s meeting to 9:00,” he says. “And make sure you have something to eat. I can’t have you be unfocused again like yesterday.”

You survive the rest of Tuesday. You eat snacks rather than proper meals, and you find that that helps you more with time and focus. The meetings for that day are less intense, but with you still figuring out exactly how Jungkook wants the documents prepared, you stay up after hours and work on them for the next day, with you constantly going over the recording to make sure that you documented everything correctly. 

You arrive at his penthouse at 6:30 every morning during the week. You make his breakfast while he takes a shower, which is really whatever’s in his fridge or pantry. He doesn’t seem to mind what you prepare for him, and you’re glad that he doesn’t find any more severe reasons to dislike you. There’s still the occasional correction of your minutes, but you chalk it up to him just being too particular. There are terms he uses that you’re not familiar with; he’s an architect by training after all.

Perhaps it’s why he’s as specific and detail-oriented as he is, and more visual than anything. Hoseok is a perfectionist like him, but the older man has everything organized in his head and then executes them, whereas Jungkook needs them all laid out before him. Whether it’s about a policy, a process, and especially a design, he makes sure they’re drawn out, and the way they all just make sense to him is immediate. 

You suppose that’s what he’s used to. Plans need representation beyond words; he doesn’t seem to be the type to use much of them, in fact, unless he’s correcting you. But that’s what you’ve noticed. At some points during the meeting, he’d draw something on his iPad and send it to you; you both discuss it the next morning, with you finding the words for it for proper documentation. 

But his mind doesn’t seem to stop, as you catch him on the way to work sometimes doodling some design on this leather notebook that he carries with him everywhere. Whether it’s the Arts Center or something else, you’re not sure, but you know that any moment he pulls it out, he’d spend a good amount of time on it before getting out of the car.

He remains distant and disengaged as you expect him to be. Unlike Hoseok who asks you how your evening went or how the trip to his house was, Jungkook doesn’t talk about anything that doesn’t concern work. And so when he isn’t talking about it, there’s just silence - whether in the car, in the elevator, or the walk to his room. There’s none of the laughter or the questions about how you’re coping with all your tasks, and there’s definitely nothing about his life that he shares. Not that you thought he would, but the difference with your old boss is striking, as you think of the times when Hoseok happily talked about the salsa studio he was at with A-yeong over the weekend or the movie they watched together the night before.

The comparisons remain in your head throughout the week. You try to focus on your responsibilities but you realize that you haven’t properly moved on from the culture and environment that you used to enjoy when Hoseok was still leading the team, and that has affected your work in obvious ways, and especially your approach to it. 

There’s anxiety with every task that Jungkook asks of you, even if they’re things you’ve done so many times in your three years as the VP’s assistant. You find yourself constantly clarifying his instructions, prompting him to question your ability to take them. You feel like he’ll be displeased regardless of what your output is, yet you still end up spending too much time going over files that you forget to eat or clock out too late. You don’t get proper sleep either, nervous about what the next day will bring. You second-guess yourself constantly, and all the confidence you built in all your time here doesn’t seem to have as strong of a foundation as you thought. 

So when you make another mistake the following Tuesday, whatever belief in yourself that you have left dissipates. 

“Ms. Cho, where is the folder?” Jungkook asks, his gaze hardening the longer you look at him without a word. 

You’re currently at a restaurant, given that your boss has a meeting with Mr. Hu, the owner of the company that produces quality materials that Jungkook wants for the Arts Center. This was scheduled just yesterday, which is also when he’d asked you to put together the rough draft plans and design that he worked on last weekend. The project is in its early stages but the plans are clear to Jungkook and he wants to secure this deal early on, especially with Mr. Hu leaving the country for a few weeks. 

You finalized this last night and left it on your desk along with the portfolios that Yoongi and the support team have been taking from your shelf. Given the week you’ve had - lack of sleep and frustration more than anything - you rushed to get ready and mistakenly took a portfolio and not the folder meant for this meeting.

“I… I’m so sorry, sir, but I seem to have taken the wrong files,” you stutter, eyes on the ground as you clutch the portfolio for support. “They… they were on my desk along with others and I left them in the office.”

There’s a long pause before Jungkook speaks, the irritation clear in his voice.

“Do you at least have a soft copy?”

“It’s on a USB, sir,” you reply, nervously raising your head. “I left it as well.”

You try your hardest not to look at him, even if it seems like he wants you to, just so you can see the burning way he does it. Because you feel him huffing, you can see how he’s clenching his fists as he controls what he’s feeling, which is definitely anger towards your stupid mistake. 

Jungkook clears his throat before turning back to the man seated across from him, his voice apologetic as he explains that you weren’t able to bring it. 

“Ah, what a shame,” Mr. Hu says, judgingly glancing at you. “I was really looking forward to seeing your plans, Jungkook. I could’ve advised my people to check on the materials you want this early.”

“I’m really sorry,” Jungkook says. “Perhaps I can email them over to you?”

“Oh don’t bother, I’ll be chasing the Italian sun for the next three weeks,” the older man chuckles. “I’ll see you when I get back. By then, I hope you and your assistant have sorted things out and could give me actual information about what you want.”

“We will, I assure you,” Jungkook says, before saying goodbye to him.

He walks past you and you follow, with no words said as you both wait for the car and enter. 

You can hear him panting, and you know enough that's due to an extreme emotion he can’t express. He won’t look at or say anything to you, and that feels more terrifying. 

His phone rings, and not only does the person on the other line talk about what just happened, you happen to hear it, too.

“Hey, I heard what happened with the big boss,” the man says. “Did you really go to the meeting unprepared?”

“It wasn’t me, but yeah, what a mess,” Jungkook huffs, his head leaning back on the chair, his eyes closed as he calms himself down. “What did he say? Is he angry?”

“Nah. You’re a Jeon; he can’t be. He was just a bit annoyed because he was supposed to have a meeting with another client but he chose to see you.”

“Fuck. What an embarrassment,” Jungkook groans.

“Well, he does have high praises for your father.”

“And this is his first time working with me. My dad’s gonna hear about it and give me shit for it.”

“Just another normal day at the office, right?” The man laughs. “So, was it your assistant that screwed up?”

Jungkook hums his yes, knowing you’re two seats away from him, although he’s unsure if you can hear their conversation. For your sake, he hopes you can’t.

“See? This is why you should’ve taken Lucas! That guy was always two steps ahead of you.”

“That’s what I said, but when are my requests ever granted? Never. Another normal day at the office, huh?”

“If she’s pretty, maybe you can forgive them and just suffer through her incompetence,” the man laughs again. “I mean, she’s got to have some redeeming quality somehow. If she doesn’t, that just sucks for you.”

“You really enjoy making fun of my misfortunes, huh?” Jungkook huffs.

“Just sometimes. Not used to you not having your way, that’s all.”

“Well, nothing is going my way, that's for sure. But whatever, I’ll figure it out. Make sure Mr. Hu holds out for me, okay? I need you to help me this time.”

“Hey, I may laugh at your misfortunes but I always have your back,” the man says. “Good luck, VP. I’ll see you soon.”

Jungkook drops the call and you feel him glance at you but you remain stiff on your seat, unwilling to move nor look anywhere else that isn’t your lap. You’re glad that he decides to close his eyes for the rest of the ride, though, so you take your chance to shift towards the window and watch the buildings fly by, willing your tears not to fall.

You hold out until you arrive at the building. That is, until Jungkook heads straight to his room and asks you to follow. 

“Own up to your mistake and look at me,” he says, his voice seeping with disdain. 

You lift your head and meet his eyes, his gaze piercing right through you and you’re unable to move, to speak. But you try - a futile attempt, really - at appealing to the compassionate side of him, if it even exists. 

“I’m so, so sorry Mr. Jeon,” you plead for forgiveness. “I didn’t mean to forget the folder. It’s been a tough week and—”

“A tough week?” he mocks, his voice getting louder now. “As if you’re the only one who’s had one? I come here and find myself doing your job. I spent the weekend drafting the designs because I need that deal early only for you to screw it up! My father’s been on to me about this project and I need everything done right but I can’t seem to because my assistant, who’s supposed to be assisting me, can’t even get the most basic things done. All you had to do was bring the folder. You didn’t even have a contingency plan of having a soft copy. Were you not trained for this role?” 

You visibly shake but Jungkook doesn’t let up.

“Answer me.”

“I… I was, Mr. Jeon,” you tremble. “I know I’m not the smartest but I work hard and I—”

“You work hard?”

“Yes, sir.”

“In what?”

“In preparing your files and organizing everything for you and…” you try. 

A month ago, you’d be saying these things and more with so much conviction.  But all it took was one Jeon Jungkook to break you down and make you doubt every single skill you’ve developed and been praised for the past few years.

“And I can criticize each of those tasks in just this one week you’ve been my assistant.”

“I… I just needed guidance, sir, because it’s a new—”

“I need guidance. I need assisting,” he sneers. “My father wanted me to keep you because you apparently know how things are supposed to be done but you’re asking for guidance from me?”

There’s silence on your end and you’ve never felt as small as you do right now. The way Mrs. Byun abused her power over you and humiliated you during your first years here continues to be unmatched, but being treated this way by a man whose family you respect somehow hurts you more. 

You want to give up now. You’ll lose everything if you decide to just quit but it’s not like there’s much left of you to go by anyway, given the week that you’ve had. But if there’s anything your mother taught you is that the lowest you can go is when you don’t fight for yourself, so you gather what little dignity you have left and look him in the eyes. 

“You do things very differently from Mr. Jung like you said, and I admire your thoroughness,” you start, trying your hardest to calm the tone of your voice. “You’re adjusting to your new role with a new team and a new assistant that you didn’t choose but somehow you have to trust and that’s unnerving if you’re used to being in control of everything. With all due respect, however, perhaps if you let the people around you adjust as well, we would all find a way to work together effectively and respectfully. A little bit of compassion wouldn’t hurt, and it goes a long way.”

At his silence, you continue, digging your nails deeper into your skin to help you remain stable.

“I apologize for all the mistakes this past week. I know it has been unpleasant for you as well. I’ll do better, that I can promise. But if the way I work is not something that is up to your standard, then there’s only one thing to do. Me quitting would put you in a worse light; you can fire me if you think it is best,” you bravely state. “I can deal with the consequences.”

Jungkook continues to just look at you, unable to say anything this time. Perhaps he isn’t used to someone speaking to him like this. Maybe he’s finding the right words to hit you back and break you even more. The tiniest part of you wants to think you’ve softened him up a bit; hopefully he’ll be less angry at you the next time.

“Is there anything you need me to work on, Mr. Jeon?”

“No,” he answers. “Just hold off all calls for me for the next hour. I don’t want to be disturbed.”

“Understood, Mr. Jeon.” 

You bow and head out the door. 

Jungkook watches you leave, and the farther you become, the more he wishes you’d stay.

He’s unsure why. Perhaps it’s the way you spoke to him, similar to the way you did the first time you met over a week ago - with conviction and grace despite you putting him in his place. Maybe it’s him, trying to find the words to apologize without seeming weak, or to encourage you without being comfortable. The tiniest part of him just wants you around; he doesn’t know what it is about you but he finds himself feeling intense emotions because of you - frustration, fear, and an overwhelming feeling of sadness and regret. 

He returns to his seat and glances through the window, the angle of his chair allowing him to see you outside, although he’s unsure if you’re able to see him. Either way, it’s not like you’ve ever looked his way anyway, so he feels a little safe doing this now. 

You’re seated and turned away from the desk, with your fingers pressing over both your ears, as if you’re blocking out the sounds of the room; perhaps you’re blocking out his voice that’s probably still echoing in your head. He’d seen you do this last week, too, after you failed to show up at his penthouse in the morning. He thinks it’s your way of dealing with stress, a quiet one, in contrast to boxing like what he prefers to do. It’s the only time he’d ever allow himself to express anything, after all, other than getting mad at you apparently. 

You finally turn around, but it’s not long after when Do-hyun arrives and takes your place, leaving him to wonder where you’re off to. He focuses on his work like he meant to do, opting to read and send emails while he calms himself down. His eyes always turn to your desk, though, and when he sees that he’s halfway done but you’re still not back, he decides to head out.

“Mr. Jeon,” Do-hyun stands up and greets him. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Where’s Ms. Cho?”

“She had to go to the washroom so she asked me to cover for her first,” she responds. “But, uh… She’s been gone for half an hour. I… I’m not sure what she’s up to but I can—.”

It’s at that moment when you return, and the way that both Do-hyun and Jungkook look at you that you know they can tell. You can’t exactly cry for 20 minutes and then expect to ease the swelling of your eyes for the next 10. But you act like nothing’s amiss, so you dismiss the younger woman and turn to Jungkook.

“Was there something that you needed from me, Mr. Jeon?” You ask nonchalantly.

“Just, uh…” he stutters now, taken aback by the casual way you speak to him despite your glassy eyes. “I’m meeting the CEO and President tomorrow to discuss the Arts Center. Put the initial plans in presentation format and send it to me first thing in the morning.”

“Yes, sir,” you respond, returning to your seat and not sparing him another glance. 

You work on the presentation in between the other things you need to finish. You draft memos and letters for Jungkook’s approval, and it’s half past 4 when you enter his room to have them signed. 

“I’m heading out at 5 for dinner,” he says as he signs the documents. “I’ve added points on the shared file for the presentation. Make sure to include those.”

“I will, sir.”

There’s a brief moment where you and Jungkook just look at each other, words swimming in your own heads that neither of you wants to say out loud.

You wish he’d offer an apology.

He wishes you’d say that you’re okay.

You want to tell him that the Arts Center already sounds amazing; you hope it turns out the way he imagines.

He wants to tell you that he won’t fire you, that despite how he’s been, he doesn’t want you to go anywhere.

But the moment passes and then it’s gone. You bow once more and then head out the door. 

He leaves at exactly 5, merely nodding at you as he leaves. 

Jungkook sees you again that evening, four hours later as he drives home after having dinner with Seokjin and Taehyung, the brothers he’d grown up with. The office is on the way, and it’s near the bus stop where he spots you, trying to catch a cab that someone always gets to before you do. 

The rain has started to pour, and his anxiety builds; he was never fond of it, given the memory it holds. But it’s you in your thin coat that suspends that for a while. You’re clearly shivering, unable to get a ride, and getting wet from the downpour. You cross the street, seemingly just submitting to the weather, and you disappear amongst the crowd of people just trying to get home. 

He checks his phone as he gets a message and sees the email you sent 20 minutes ago - the presentation he’d asked you to submit in the morning. This is you, making up for today, he guesses. He’s why you’re braving the rain. If he’s being honest, he’s why you’re suffering at all, and he can’t help the way his heart stings at the thought. 

The convenience store is bright and dry unlike the streets outside, and that’s why there’s a substantial amount of people seeking shelter from the downpour that came out of nowhere. 

You welcome the rain. It served as a distraction when you were growing up and your mother’s ex-partner would yell nonstop. You’d hide in your room and cover your ears like your mother taught you to do. When she was able, she’d stay with you and cover your ears with her own hands and tell you that it’s gonna be okay, that even if you can’t stop the scary sounds, you can drown them out enough that they’ll stop bothering you. 

You didn’t think you’d ever do so again but you’ve done that twice in one week, and all it took was one Jeon Jungkook to lecture you about what your job entails. He didn’t yell, but his voice was still piercing, firm and low as if he reserves that intensity for instances of pure frustration. 

That kind of thing takes a lot out of someone. It’s different when a boss is out to abuse their power and take advantage of you. Mrs. Byun made you do her work so she could spend her lunches out and then take credit for outputs without acknowledging you. She sucked up to the directors to overcompensate for not knowing how to answer their questions. And then she had the guts to embarrass you and call you out in front of the team for not being able to do your primary tasks, which was only because you were doing hers. It took a while but her incompetence caught up to her and her departure felt like freedom. But the experience with her was constricting, suffocating, humiliating. It was dehumanizing, too, as you went home to an empty apartment every night, feeling less and less of yourself.

But the way Jungkook treats you hits differently. You’ve survived the worst and ended up in a good spot under Hoseok’s leadership where you built your confidence. During those years, you felt capable, like you were trusted; you felt that your hard work earned you respect. 

Now, you feel all that crumbling. You feel exposed, bare; as if you’re realizing you’re not that good after all. How you’ve been isn’t like you. You’re meticulous, analytical; you’ve sat in so many meetings as an observer and know how things work, how the directors think, and the kinds of outputs expected from you. But recently, you find yourself just lost, questioning everything all the time, and so incapable.

You let yourself feel the burden weigh you down as you eat a small cup of noodles and call it dinner. You walk down the aisles and pick out your favorite snacks, first eating the roasted almonds as you head out the door. 

The rain has let up, with but a drizzle left this late evening. You catch the bus and munch on pepero and chocopie this time. You’re in your neighborhood by the time you tear open the frosted mini donuts. You’ve been mindlessly eating the whole time, but once you get off your stop, you start walking towards the community center. The public library is closed but something about sitting outside the door gives you comfort, just like it used to when you were growing up.

Your mom couldn’t really afford daycare. She’d spend her lunch break picking you up from school then dropping you off at a library where her friend worked; that nice woman always looked after you until your mom came back to pick you up. Some days when she wanted to take you away from the mess that was her partner, she’d take you there, too. 

You read mostly picture books and colored on your coloring book and played with your paper dolls. Even as you grew up, you didn't really read; you just liked that the library was quiet, comfortable, that it made you feel safe. 

Your phone beeps and you see a photo that your mother has just sent of her dry living room floor. 

[From: Mom] it isn’t leaking anymore! 

You smile, imagining her sigh of relief and the way she’s probably humming about the house. You decide to call her; another bit of comfort would definitely help.

“Hi, darling,” she answers after the first ring. “Min-woo went to the hardware store when he arrived in the afternoon so he could fix the roof. What a relief.”

“That’s great, mom,” you reply, wishing you were back home with her. “You can have a good sleep tonight, then.”

“I will. What about you?”

“I hope so.”

“Have you had dinner?”

“Hmm, yeah,” you hum. 

“And where are you now?”

“Outside the library,” you say. 

There’s silence that comes after, a way in which you both say things without words sometimes. Your mom is good at that, and even if you can’t see her, you know there’s love in her eyes. And even if she can’t see you, she knows there’s sadness in yours. 

“So, work has been tough lately, am I right?”

Even without any confirmation, she already knows. She probably knew when you said that everything was fine after she asked how things were going during your visit over the weekend. She probably picked up the faintness of your smile and the way you fell asleep on her lap while you both watched TV and she combed your hair like she always did. 

“The new boss is quite hard on me,” you admit. “He expects too much, asks me to do too much… I’m trying but I keep making mistakes. I’m missing things I normally don’t. I’m not like this, mom. I… I’m better than this.”

“Oh, darling,” she sighs, wishing she’d hugged you a little tighter before you left. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this. Maybe you’re still adjusting. That’s valid, you know? It’s only been a week.”

“Yeah, but he acts like he’s the only one who needs to adjust and that I just magically know how to do things his way,” you groan. “It… it just makes me feel like I’m not good enough. That I… that I shouldn’t be here.”

“___, you didn’t suffer through your first few years there just so you would continue to doubt yourself,” she responds. “You deserve your role, regardless of what he thinks. You work hard and that means everything.”

“Not to him apparently. Even if I work hard, if it’s not up to his standards, it doesn’t mean anything. I can’t even do anything about it because he’s the CEO’s son.” 

“You can quit, you know?” She says after a beat of silence. “You don’t have to stay if it’s too much, and especially if it’s unfair. Just because you know you can handle it, doesn’t mean you should.”

The thought settles in your head. You did just tell Jungkook that you’d rather he fire you, which honestly terrifies you because much as he’s insufferable, you do need this job. Helping your mom over the weekend reminded you of that. From the health insurance to the salary, you don’t have to worry too much because you can finally repay her for all her hard work in raising you, in protecting you, in surviving for you. 

“I know,” you sigh. “Maybe I just let the tough first days get to me.”

“Whatever it is, you shouldn’t suffer. And you definitely shouldn’t suffer alone,” she advises. “I’m glad you came over during the weekend even if for unpleasant reasons. I got to hug you even if I didn’t know you needed it.”

“I always need it, mom,” you admit. “I don’t have to say it. It’s the only one I get anyway.”

“Well, it’s because it’s the only one you accept,” she points out. 

“True,” you laugh. “But I… I’ll do better. I’ll get my head straight tonight and treat tomorrow like my first day and you know, show him I’m capable.”

“That’s good. And you can come over again this weekend if you want. The storm should be gone by then. The girls want to go to the park. I know they’d love to hang out with you. If you don’t have plans of course.”

“You know I only ever have actual weekend plans when Jimin and Soomin visit me. But yes, I can take the trip on Saturday. If Jungkook wants me to do any work… screw him.”

Your mother laughs, only because she knows you don’t mean it. You know it, too. Regardless of how you think of your boss or your job, you know the value of your work, and you’re not one to sacrifice it for any reason. 

“Are you feeling better, darling?”

“Yeah,” you smile. “The rain’s stopped somehow. I needed to be here. And I… I needed to hear your voice.”

“Good. You know you can call whenever. I don’t have to summon you with photos of a roof or grilled makchang or something every time.”

“I know. And I will. I’ll see you soon.”

You drop the call and start walking back home. Talking with your mom is the strength you need to get through such a tough day. It doesn’t change your situation; maybe Jungkook will still be upset with you in the morning but you’ll handle it, just like you handled all the difficult times before. 

Your mother taught you something else - it was grace. You’d fight back if you need to, but you can always do it with gentleness; sometimes that works wonders, especially if you can’t afford to respond with rage. 

You’re quite nervous walking to Jungkook’s penthouse the next morning. 

Before he left last night, you were sporting glassy and swollen eyes, after all; it wouldn’t have taken much for him to know what you were up to by being away from your desk for half an hour. But you’d been too upset to think of what he would think about it, so you acted like it was nothing when you returned to your seat, took note of his instructions, and watched him walk out. No other words were spoken and quite frankly, you don’t know what either of you could have said after what transpired. It’s a new day, though, and like you told your mother, you’ll just focus on your work and try to get that old version of yourself back, the one you’d felt slipped away this past week.

You enter the front door - as he’d told you to just go in so you don’t disrupt his workout - and immediately hear the loud sounds of leather hitting leather. He seems to be aggressively punching the sandbag, with more evidence of it coming in the form of his deep and successive breaths that you can hear as you walk towards the kitchen. You stop on your tracks, though, as a pair of red laced underwear lays crumpled on the floor.

That definitely wasn’t there yesterday morning so it must’ve been from last night. You’re not one to judge; he did have a frustrating day that you caused and releasing all that stress in this way is understandable. You just wish he had the courtesy to clean up, knowing that his assistant would be coming but then again, you also don’t know if that’s too much to ask of him.

You don’t realize that you’ve been staring at the underwear until you hear him, his deep breaths in tandem with his steps. You walk towards the counter and set him a glass of water before he notices what’s got your attention, but he still does, as he stops at the spot where you were and lets out a grunt. 

From your periphery, you see him pick up the piece of lingerie then throw it in the trash. You turn to him and bow in greeting, and Jungkook merely nods, the slightest of head tilts to acknowledge your presence, seemingly avoiding your eyes, even as you ask what he prefers to eat this morning. You’d like to think that in the recesses of his bitter heart, there’s remorse over yesterday at least, if not over the past few days. But you’ll take it; his silence is better than anything at this moment. 

You follow him towards his bedroom, stopping briefly as you look around and make sure you’re not intruding. You’re unsure if the woman is still here, but he picks up on that.

“She’s gone,” he says, walking to his bathroom. “I never make them stay.”

It’s a part of his life that you’ve only heard of. The gossip that Do-hyun hears from the washrooms in the office may be true, considering his weeknight bang and the left-behind underwear on the kitchen floor. He still had some energy based on his morning workout though, and you don’t know why the thought of him fucking someone and then boxing in the morning is making you feel hot all over. 

You snap yourself out of it, knowing it’s inappropriate and definitely not what you should be worrying about. He’s a stressed, obviously attractive, and rich bachelor; you’re not surprised he’d have women at his beck-and-call and be nonchalant about it.

You walk inside his closet and choose the shoes and accessories he’ll wear today before heading back to the kitchen to prepare his breakfast. He walks in 30 minutes later, and you approach him to fix his collar and his tie like you always do, now getting used to his natural scent with hints of jasmine and bergamot. Your eyes focus on the silk necktie, hoping you’re able to control your nervous breathing being this close to him. 

He may still be annoyed at you and you may be invading his space, and the realization makes you step away quickly, taking his plate from the counter and placing it on the dining table. You open your iPad and go through the presentation he asked you to do, surprised that he’s already added a few things.

“Is the presentation final, Mr. Jeon?” You ask. “I see you’ve already looked through it.”

“Sort of,” he responds. “I woke up at 5 and reviewed it before my workout. Let’s go over them now.”

He looks through his iPad as he eats, going over each slide with you as if he’s practicing. The more he speaks, the more you envision the Arts Center and how he wants it done. The way he puts together the ideas into a coherent design is impressive. You almost see it as he does, and much as you thoroughly dislike him right now, for the sake of all the good things that this center will do for people, you really want him to succeed. 

You remind him of a few more things before he finishes his meal, and it’s not long after when you’re in the car, the silence thickening the tension between the two of you once more. This continues until you reach the office, and you breathe a sigh of relief at the distance between the both of you now. 

While you do feel better, the anxiety remains. You don’t want to mess up. And as you enter his room to give him papers to sign and you see him going through his presentation while the leather notebook he was drawing on earlier lays open on the desk, you find yourself also just not wanting to disappoint him. He clearly works hard and despite his treatment of you, you want things to work out for him. 

It’s an hour later when you’re both walking towards the elevator to head to the conference room on the CEO’s floor. It’s just Jungkook with his father and cousin today where he’ll present the initial plans for their comments and their verbal endorsement of the draft budget. 

It’s a massive project that’s working within strict timelines and Jungkook is adamant on getting this ready by mid-next year. You can tell how much he wants to deliver this well - the board of directors would be his next audience and a boost of confidence would be much needed. 

You make him a cup of coffee the way he likes and sit next to him. The distance allows you to keep your eyes away from him; with the pressure he’s under, you don’t exactly want to be close to where you can easily trigger him. 

CEO Jeon and Hoseok arrive, greeting you with their bright smiles, a reprieve from the stoic looks and tight-lipped and furrowed brows you get from Jungkook everyday.

“Hi, Ms. Cho,” CEO Jeon says. “A week has passed, huh? How has it been?”

“Challenging,” you say honestly, “but still good. I’m learning new things, Mr. Jeon.”

“That’s good,” he smiles, glancing at his son whose eyes are focused on his laptop. The elder seems unconvinced by your half smile but he nods, turning back to you. “By the way, I heard on the news that the typhoon hit your hometown pretty badly. How’s your mother and her family? Mr. Ri mentioned that there was an incident over the weekend. Is everything okay?”

You’re used to CEO Jeon asking things like this prior to meetings. He believes it’s a way to release certain feelings and not keep them hidden, and while you don’t really want to talk about it right now, you appreciate the concern. 

“She, uh. A large tree fell over our house last Saturday,” you say, to the surprise of both CEO and President. “I had to travel in the morning to help my mom. A portion of the roof was damaged and she had to call a company to fix it. Min-woo and the girls were away and mom didn’t want to deal with the workers since she was alone so I had to stay over the weekend.”

“That’s unfortunate,” the elder Jeon laments. “How is your house now? And your mom?”

“The roof is sealed. But she slipped on some debris and had to be assisted; she was being stubborn about it. She’s okay, though.”

“Ah, it must’ve been a tough few days. And for you, too,” Hoseok says. “I mean, given all the work and then having to be there for her. I’m sorry, ___.  But I’m glad she’s doing better. Tell her I send my regards, okay?”

“I will, thank you.”

Jungkook tries not to look affected as the older men ask you more details about what happened that he, of course, didn’t know about. There’s that guilt over how he treated you yesterday, learning now what you had to do over the weekend. You don’t seem the type to blame any oversight or mistake on something like that, but he would know that the tiredness and preoccupation could definitely affect things. Even more, he’d implied that you don’t work hard and that you’re being a burden to him, which is far from the truth. 

The conversation ends and he’s unable to look at you, as he stands from his seat to begin his presentation. Everything is set up, including a pointer and a marker and a glass of warm water on his side. He proceeds, presenting his design, the materials, the budget, and the timeline. 

You take note of all his answers to the questions and the ideas he comes up with on the spot, with him repeating things and stating how he wants certain points written down. You’re immersed in your own task, feeling like you’ve found your rhythm because you’ve done this so many times but the fear got ahead of you. This morning, it’s as if you’re in your element again, and there’s relief that fills you this time.  

The meeting is moved to a restaurant after the third hour. There’s an event that the CEO suggests that Jungkook’s team organize as a way to build linkages with the arts and culture networks, making sure that the younger Jeon becomes known in those fields as well. 

You have to go by memory as you listen and eat your meal, but the distance from Jungkook remains. You merely nod at his words and avoid looking at him unless you need to. It’s your way of getting over last night, you think. You still have his look of frustration etched in your mind and it’s still a bit fresh; you’d need at least another day before you can look at him normally again. You hope that other than Jungkook himself, no one notices. 

But you suppose you’ve underestimated Hoseok’s ability to pick up on your behavior; it’s one of his strengths as a leader, after all. He’s always been good at reading people, a skill that Jungkook clearly didn’t develop. 

“Hey.”

“Mr. Jung,” you greet, a wave of nostalgia hitting you because his smile is one you used to see everyday, regardless of how stressed he was. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“No, not really. It’s just been over a week but I’m still getting used to the bigger office and the new secretary but I just wanted to check in,” Hoseok says. “You and Jungkook have been very busy, I rarely catch either of you.”

“Well, he wanted to get all the introductions out of the way so he can focus on the Arts Center,” you reply. “There’s a lot happening with that one so he’s in meetings and calls all the time.”

“Ah, of course. It’s a good design and I’m sure it’ll boost the local arts scene. He got inspired during his travels in the Southeast Asia sites and has been talking about it for years. It’s good he has the freedom to work on this now.”

You merely nod, not having much to say about your boss’ passion project that’s just made him angry and frustrated. Quite frankly, you don’t know how he is when he isn’t working on such high-pressure matters, but you can already tell he isn’t someone you’d want to be around in any other context. 

“But how about you? Are you getting enough rest? All these meetings and then traveling home on the weekend is tiring, ___. I hope you’re looking out for your health.”

“I am,” you try to assure him. “I can handle it.”

You smile before shifting your eyes to your desktop screen, not wanting to look at him any longer because a second more and you’d probably burst into tears. Experiencing Hoseok’s kindness for these few minutes has just reminded you of what you constantly miss - that feeling of safety and care, of someone looking out for you and not holding you back. 

“I’m glad you are,” he smiles again, holding your gaze when you glance at him, and Hoseok hopes that in this short moment of calm, he’s able to give comfort that he just knows you need. “Anyway, I just wanted to drop by. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“I’ll see you, Hoseok.” And as if you knew why he came over in the first place, you add, “and thank you.”

Jungkook sighs in frustration as he watches your fading smile before returning to type away on your desktop. He was about to call you to ask for a project portfolio on the shelf but stopped once he saw you talking to his cousin. You seemed a tad bit lighter than usual; Jungkook could only assume it’s your natural state, even if all he’s seen of you is that of perpetual worry and stress. 

He thinks to himself that a part of that is because of him. Maybe a big part, he admits. He wouldn’t have known about your town in Daegu or that your mother resides there and that you had to go home over the weekend, hence, your oversight yesterday. He’s at least decent enough to acknowledge that he shouldn’t have been so harsh on you in the first place. He’s just not used to things not going his way; he wonders now what the people under him suffered through to make sure of that.

Not wanting to disturb you, he decides to get the portfolio himself, so he exits his room and leans on your desk, his eyebrows scrunched as he reads through the spine labels of the folders. He doesn’t notice you stand up and attempt to ask what he needs but he does find it, reaching over on the third shelf for it. 

“I could’ve gotten that for you,” you huff.

Jungkook spots a small pout as you utter the words, disarming him a little.

“It’s… it’s fine,” he mumbles, willing his mind to go back to what he was thinking about before you said something, which is the other project he wants to look at. 

But you pick up on his words. “Seongbuk, 2021,” you repeat. 

You look up and know exactly where the portfolio for that project is. You drag your stool with your foot and walk up the steps, carefully pulling out the folder and underestimating just how heavy it is. But before it can slip out of your fingers, Jungkook gets a hold of it, his right hand gripping the spine while his left palm supports your back. 

You stiffen when you realize just how close he is to you then step down the stool, somehow nervous to look at him.

“I, uh, sorry. You were about to fall.”

You stiffen again because he didn’t just apologize, did he? Your eyes are glued to the ground and you don’t see Jungkook’s surprised look.

Because he did just that. What felt more alarming than his apology was that it had been a reflex for him to have his hand behind you, his heart leaping a bit because you really were close to falling. An injured version of you isn’t something he wants to deal with, and he convinces himself that it’s because it would look absolutely terrible for his assistant to get hurt on the job, and especially in his presence. 

“Is that all you need, Mr. Jeon?”

“Uh, yes,” he responds. “Be, uh, be careful.”

He takes both folders and heads back to his room, his face buried in the pages as you sneak a glance at him from the window.

“So, how’s the second week as VP going?” Hoseok asks his cousin from across the table of their favorite Japanese restaurant during their Friday lunch. “Worse than the first?”

Jungkook, not keen on answering truthfully, merely shrugs. 

“Well, I can bet you though that ___ is definitely having it worse than last week.”

“Did she say anything? About me specifically?” Jungkook asks, his curious eyes telling Hoseok that it’s more of concern than anger. 

“Of course not. She’s there to protect you, Kook, not tell on you. Is there something to say? About you specifically?”

Jungkook knows how well his cousin can read people, especially him. They’d grown up together after all, and had gotten close because the older man always stayed next to him, knowing how shy little Jungkook used to be. So he narrates what happened - that he’d gotten angry, that he was being too strict, that he wasn’t leaving you room for adjustment. He’d of course excluded his own oversight and need to establish distance and authority, chalking it up to not having the familiarity and conveniences he’d been used to back in Singapore. 

“I feel like working with father even closer now, it’s like I’m under a microscope,” Jungkook continues. “I don’t wanna mess up. I just don’t wanna give him a reason to criticize or question me.”

“Well, if he learns about how it’s been with ___, he’ll do exactly those things,” Hoseok responds. “He cares about his people, you know? I’m sure that’s the one thing he wants you to do right.”

“Can’t say I’d know. It’s not like he’s any more compassionate than I am. We’re talking about a man who yells at the managers who can’t get things done right.”

“They were abusing their power, that’s why,” Hoseok explains. “And I’m not here to defend the man - I’ve been on the receiving end of his anger twice and saw how he’d push people to their near breaking point a few times but he’s not a terrible person. I’ve seen him be understanding and caring to his staff way more; you just haven’t been around that much.”

“It’s not what I saw growing up.”

“Well, we remember what we want, and forget the parts that don’t make sense to us.”

Jungkook stays silent as he munches on his steak.

“He wants to get closer to you, you know?” Hoseok continues. “He hopes that with you being around, he can mentor you, learn from you. All those years that you were home, you felt so far away from him, farther away than Jeong-sik who wasn’t even here, and he doesn’t know why.”

“He can’t expect to be a rich, ambitious businessman and be close to his son,” Jungkook huffs. “All he ever cared about when I was growing up was work. Sure, he had rare good moments, but we all know it was to compensate for always being too busy. He pressured me to do well at school then missed awarding ceremonies. He scheduled some family time then left me and my brother in some cabin in the woods by ourselves. He wants to work with me here then disallows my requests. What does he want from me?”

“Your time, I suppose. Maybe your understanding, too.”

“Did he give those to me when I was younger? He had so many chances these past 30 years and he wants those now?”

“People are complicated, Kook. Sometimes they lose sight of what’s important, of what’s in front of them… doesn’t mean they’re bad people,” Hoseok says. “And it doesn’t mean they don’t deserve a second chance. I mean, don’t we all want that? Don’t we all grow out of our bad habits and just yearn for something good?”

“Not everyone does that.”

“Maybe not, but your father has. And he just wants another chance. And whether or not it was her fault, I’m sure ___ wants that, too.”

“Did you really ask me to treat you to lunch only to advocate for the people I don’t really care much about?” Jungkook laughs bitterly. 

“No,” Hoseok chuckles. “I really wanted to try it here. But also, uncle took me out to drinks before you arrived and was all honest with me, which was a little weird but I guess he thought he could get some perspective from you through me. And ___ was my assistant and I think highly of her. It’s upsetting how things started for you both. I guess I just feel kind of caught in the middle between you and the people you actually care about. So yes, I deserve this free lunch.”

Jungkook doesn’t correct his cousin, more for the fact that Hoseok really does get caught in the middle - always has, even between him and his older brother whom Jungkook never really got along with; it definitely isn’t because he acknowledges that he cares about you. There’s no reason for him to feel that; you’re just his assistant, after all. 

Being beautiful and capable and hardworking doesn’t have anything to do with being cared about. 

“I… I admit being too hard on ___. I get that she’s good and stuff but maybe that fits with your leadership style more,” Jungkook tries to reason. “Maybe she just thrives in a team where she’s led by someone like you, someone who’s good with people and who’s process-oriented and I don’t know, someone who isn’t as tough or meticulous like me.”

“I’m sorry, Kook, but you sound stupid. You clearly don’t know anything about her. She’s experienced all the lows - the disrespect from the men, the abuse of power from the women, all the long hours and ridiculous deadlines, the loudest of yells and the craziest demands,” Hoseok exclaims. “She’s been here for just eight years but it feels more. Sometimes I don’t know why she stayed but I’m glad she did, selfishly, and that’s because she helped me so much. Are you… are you giving her reasons to leave so you can have Lucas with you?”

“No,” Jungkook dismisses the thought, although he does admit it entered his mind before he even started. “I’m just… not used to her. And the mishaps didn’t help. I just wanna be able to do my job and do it right.”

“And you will, if you just loosen up a bit and give her a chance to show you that she can help you. It’s just that I’m not seeing that same joy and energy in her eyes and her smile,” Hoseok explains. “I was thinking last Wednesday that maybe it was because of her mom but during the meeting this morning, it was the same. I’d hate to think that’s because of you. Because if it is and she’s thinking of resigning, I won’t stop her. I might even suggest it to her. “

The thought of you being gone causes a lump in Jungkook’s throat. It’s selfish, really, because despite how he treats you, he still wants you here. It’s just as silly, and stupid, and something he doesn’t have a clear reason for. But other than his cousin not trusting that he could treat you fairly, it’s the possibility that you might just quit yourself, something you seem to be capable and willing to do. And that voluntary departure is something he doesn’t want to deal with. Once you leave, you’ll just be gone; he won’t have a reason to seek you. 

“I’ll do better,” Jungkook finally says. “I’ll stop being such a pain in the ass and be… kinder, I guess.”

“She’ll probably see right through you if you fake it,” Hoseok laughs. “Just be fair. Trust me, that’s what she’d want, too. Correct her if you need to, but do it constructively. And please, try to smile every once in a while. It won’t hurt you. Nor would it ruin whatever tough guy image you have.”

Jungkook playfully rolls his eyes but he lets out a chuckle. His cousin won’t ever let go of the fact that 18-year old Jungkook had his first tattoo because he wanted to look tough. 

“I still have to establish authority, Hoseok. I can’t do it like you do.”

“Well, you’re missing out. Smiling always makes you feel a hundred times better.”

“She’ll probably see right through me if I fake it,” Jungkook repeats his cousin’s words almost mockingly. “I’m pretty sure everyone knows I’m not… cheerful. It’s like, how I’m compared to you.”

The two start walking back and Hoseok takes a jab at the younger man. “Actually, I heard that I’m the handsome one, too, and the stable guy, the family man, the man you’d take home to meet your parents…”

Jungkook laughs along. He agrees, and while it was not Hoseok’s intention at all, it does make Jungkook wonder even hours later - given all the things that characterize him, which are nothing like the older man’s - who would want him? Who would even take a chance on him? Who would even think it’s worth it to be with him?

Chaerin did, and then he self-sabotaged and lost her. Maybe the women he meets at clubs and takes home, but then all they want is a good time anyway, just like him. Maybe it’s someone he’s never met, but he also doesn't know how to be someone that someone else would love. 

Maybe there isn’t any. And maybe that isn’t so bad. Perhaps he’d have to start getting used to that fact; it’s easier than realizing he’s not meant to be with someone after all. 

He pauses the thought and decides that’s for the weekend version of him to lament over. This Friday afternoon, he’s focused on firming up the project details with the design and logistics teams. He’d just finished his meeting with them, with you barely looking his way just like you’ve done throughout the week - which he can’t fault you for because he was doing the same - and he’s back in his room to coordinate with other units. 

You, on the other hand, seem to be fixated on the quarterly reports that you’ll be handing over to him. It’s past 5 and he knows you’ll be staying up late again, given that he’d ordered you at the start of the week to finish the reviews by Friday. He’s given you too much to do, and after everything he’s done, letting you off early is a way for him to apologize without actually apologizing. 

He picks up the phone and calls you.

“How many reports do you have left to review?” He asks.

“Three more, Mr. Jeon,” you answer. “I’ll finish them tonight, please just give me another hour and a half.”

“Are you going home to see your mother tomorrow?” 

“Uh, yes, sir. I leave in the morning,” you say, curious at the question that you never thought he’d ask.

“You should clock out now, then.”

“Oh, but the reports, sir. I—”

“It’s okay,” he says, surprising you. “I’ll be busy with Arts Center details this weekend so I won’t have time to sign off on the reports anyway so you can continue them on Monday.”

You’re too shocked to speak that it doesn’t register that you’re indeed not saying anything.

“Ms. Cho?” Jungkook repeats your name.

“Oh, uh, yes, as long as it’s okay, Mr. Jeon.”

“Yes, that’s what I just said.”

“That’s, uh, thank you,” you mumble, turning on your roller chair to retrieve your bag and start packing, only to look up and see through the window that Jungkook can see you right now, smiling like a giddy child. There’s this movie that’ll show on your favorite local channel and you’re glad that you’ll be able to catch it tonight. 

You’re unsure what Jungkook’s eaten to be dismissing you this early. Maybe it was the lunch he had with Hoseok earlier; maybe it was the older man knocking some sense into him. You don’t have the energy to think about it, given that you now also have time to cook yourself proper dinner and enjoy eating it while watching and curling under your comfy blanket on your tiny couch, just like how you used to enjoy your Fridays. 

You’ll deal with the unreviewed reports and Jungkook returning to his normal, grumpy self on Monday. Tonight is all about you, and the weekend version of you is about being with your mother, her partner, and your stepsisters. There’s nothing like being with the people who make you feel safe; you’ll deal with the stress when a new week rolls by.

Jungkook watches you excitedly leave your desk. He can’t imagine the relief you’re feeling of being relieved this early and then spending your Friday evening the way you want, however that is. He lets himself wonder for a bit how you would spend time by yourself. Yoongi did say your friends aren’t in Seoul and your family obviously isn’t.

But then again, maybe you do have a partner, and maybe that’s why you looked as happy as you did. He’s not quite sure what to do with the slight distress at the thought, but with the absurdity of the amount of times he thinks about you, he decides it shouldn’t matter anyway. 

He has his own plans, too, like watching sports over bottles of beer that night, and then playing video games the next day before going to a bar with Seokjin and Taehyung. 

That Sunday, he works all morning then works out in the afternoon. In the evening, he decides to meet his friends again. 

Entering the club, he spots the table where they are - Seokjin has his arm around a woman and his lips glued to her ear; he pulls her closer as she laughs at his words. Taehyung has one next to him, too; they’re engaged in some serious conversation, it seems, given how passionately they’re talking to each other. That is, until his hand slides inside her dress; maybe it wasn’t that deep. 

Jungkook doesn’t know how his friends can converse with the women they find in these places. Given, Seokjin tends to stick to the same one for months and Taehyung is just naturally flirty and friendly so maybe it’s not that hard. 

For Jungkook, it’s just not something he’s able to fully or even properly do. What does he say? He’d brag about his work and his lifestyle if he was the type, but he isn’t, and there’s nothing else about him that he’d like to share. He’s always straightforward when it comes to these things. He’s picky; he does have a type, after all, but he always knows what they want and so do they. 

So when he spots a woman by the bar - the one who’d bought him a drink last night - he just smirks as she takes her shot and bites her lips when she catches him looking. 

“Hey, I finally caught you sober,” she giggles in his ears after she meets him halfway. 

“And I finally caught you without a man next to you,” he whispers. “Should I be worried?”

“Nah, he was just my plaything last night,” she responds. “I could be yours.”

Jungkook chuckles, enjoying her bluntness. He takes her hand and waves at his friends; they already know he’s taking off and they won’t hear from him for the rest of the night. 

It’s the way most of his evenings go anyway, whether he’s here or in Singapore or elsewhere, really. 

Jungkook likes the thrill, he likes the shallow intimacy he gets from the feelings of ecstasy and carnal desire. He likes that he doesn’t have to share anything about himself apart from his name so they could scream it, likes that there’s nothing about the other person to uncover, and that there’s nothing about himself he has to be honest about. He likes that he’ll remember the pleasure until the next day but nothing else - not her breathing, not her gentle touches on his chest, not her soft whispers of his name. 

There’s nothing much about her he’ll care for other than that she had a good time. And there’s nothing about tonight he’ll regret, except not making sure that she left his apartment like he always asks them to do.

Because it’s Monday morning, and there’s that woman wearing his coat and nothing else. 

And then there’s you, dressed in your skirt and blouse in his living room, with a look of shock on your pretty face. 

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— Revenge Sex

🏵️ — synopsis. James cheated. Remus is pissed off with some of James’s recent decisions. To get back at James (and because he likes you), Remus has sex with you.

🏵️ — warnings. Badly written smut. Weird plot. Pet names (pretty girl, darling). James is an absolute douche in this.

🏵️ — author’s note. I AM DOGSHIT AT WRITING SMUT. Wrote this on a whim. God bless. Hope this is okay.

   It had been twelve days since you last saw James with his lips locked to some Huffleslut.

   Twelve days of incessant badgering, pleading, apologies, and words words words. All in-person, all irritating.

   Of course, today was no different. It had started with James ambushed you by slinging his arm over your shoulder when you stepped out of your house entrance. You shoved him away and kept walking with your friends to the Great Hall.

   “Y/n! Wait up!” James called. You groaned in annoyance and walked faster with determination. He was the one that cheated! Why did he continue to follow you around?

   His hand closed on your shoulder and he bent over to catch his breath. “Y/n, please just listen to what I have to say-“

   You whipped around, anger evident in your eyes. “No, James Fleamont Potter. You listen to me. You cheated, not me. Clearly I wasn’t a good girlfriend and wanted to throw away a relationship for someone who just wanted to sleep with the popular guy. I don’t care. And before you start that ‘Oh! But y/n, I love you!’” You upped the pitch of your voice and brought your hands up. “That’s obviously a lie. If you loved me, you wouldn’t have even considered looking at that no-good, yellow-wearing, dirty rotten Hufflepuff slut! So just leave me the fuck alone!” You took a step back, pleasantly surprised when James didn’t move. “Thank you.”

   You felt bad for not feeling guilty, but… you didn’t cheat. He did.

— 🏵️

   “Hi. Don’t get up. Please.”

   You looked up. In front of you stood the infamous Remus Lupin. Confusion painted your face: what on Earth could he possibly want? “I… okay? What do you want?”

   Remus sighed and scratched his head. His face screwed up in pain from reach up for his head. You knew why. After two and a half years of dating someone, you get to know their friends well. Honestly, Remus was probably one of the best friends you’d ever had. You both got along well and he wasn’t two faced. “This is gonna sound really weird, but… I want to get back at James.”

   You pressed your tongue to the roof of your mouth and nodded. Pulling it back with a ‘click’, you tilted your head. “Why are you telling me this, Remus? I want nothing to do with him.”

   “That’s the thing,” Remus went on. “He’s been a real prick lately to everyone and has been lashing out. Saying things, doing things. I’m tired of it, Sirius is tired of it- Merlin, Peter barely talks to us anymore since James… y’know…”

   “So… you want me to…?”

   “Sleep with me.”

   Your mouth dropped open. Your face went slack and you stared at the man in front of you. There wasn’t anything that would make you not want to sleep with him. He was actually extremely good looking. Girls complained abut the scars, but you thought they suited him, made him stand out, and give him that ‘don’t mess with me’ energy. “Uh.” Blubbering like an idiot in front of James’s hot friend wasn’t a very comforting thought.

   “You can say no. I understand why you wouldn’t,” Remus shrugged. “I wanted to really lay it on him and stuff but if you don’t want-“

   “Fuck yes,” your muttered. “Sure. Anything. I don’t care.”

   Swallowing, Remus examined you closely. “Really? I don’t want you to feel pressure or anything.”

   “Remus, I want to. Now that you mention it, I kinda want to get some revenge on Potter,” you trailed off. “What better revenge then with his best looking mate?”

   Remus scoffed. “‘Best looking’ is far fetched, but I’ll take it. When do you want to…?”

   “Does now work?”

   A small laugh escaped Remus’s laugh at your coy expression. Your head was tilted dangerously and the corner of your lip was raised just so. Remus would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of you in un-platonic ways while you were dating James, but wouldn’t dare saying anything. Now that James went and fucked up, what better way to get James back and indulge himself in you then now? “My dorm or yours?”

   You accepted Remus’s outstretched hand and stepped closer to him. Hand pressing into the soft fabric of his shirt. “Might not make it to a dorm,” you mused, letting your hand trail down. “Mine. Girls like to gossip. Guarantee that Potter’ll hear the news before you even finish.”

   Remus’s jaw twitched at your touch, feeling his muscles flutter under your hand. “Lead the way,” he rasped, hand wrapping around yours.

—🏵️

   Remus barely had time to close the door before you pulled his face down to yours, capturing his lips with yours. You scrambled to unbutton his trousers as he fumbled to undo your bra clasp. When both items were gone and your shirts were shed, Remus picked you up and let your hands grab his face as he made his way to the delightfully large bed. Perks of being a prefect, apparently.

   You yelped when Remus dropped you on the bed. He turned his attention to your pants, pulling them off and tossing them away. He smiled at the wet patch on your cotton underwear. “Who turned you on that much, y/n?”

   “You, you fucker,” you replied snarkily.

   Remus’s brows quirked. “I am a fucker, aren’t I? ‘M gonna be fuckin’ a girl this pretty. Not something I’m embarrassed about,” he said. You would have replied if he hadn’t dropped to his knees and pulled you towards the edge of the bed like a feather. Remus rubbed a thumb from the top of your clothed cunt to the end of the stain of arousal in your underwear. You twitched. “Like that, pretty girl?”

   “I was promised a fuck, Remus Lupin,” you complained, failing to hide the breathlessly and need in your voice. You can’t remember the last time James did more than buty his dick in you for more than three minutes.

   Remus pressed featherlight kisses to the cloth covering your soaked cunt. “Don’t get snippy. You’ll get what you were promised,” he grumbled.

   You ground your molars together to avoid sqealing when Remus pried away your underwear and drove his tongue into your pussy. With nothing but the bed to grasp, you threaded your hands into Remus’s hair. He groaned at the feeling and sent leg twitching vibrations through you. “Fuck Remus,” you spat.

   The dickhead just hummed. He moved his hands so you were pressed down by his left arm. Remus’s right pointer finger came to tease the entrance of your pussy, his tongue tracing your clit. As anticipated, you jerked at the stimulation. Remus watched you body shudder as he slipped his finger inside you, taking care to memorize how you looked from this angle. His finger curled and you jerked, a ragged moan drawn from your lips.

   Remus fingered you good, you thought through a clouded mind. His fingers where long enough to find where you needed him without much time, and he seemed more than ready to give you what you needed. 

   “So good, Remus,” you moaned out, back arching into his mouth. “Fuck! Right there Rem, please,” you pleaded mindlessly, eyes screwed shut. Remus slipped a second finger into you, chuckling lowly at your breathless gasp.

   It wasn’t long before you came on Remus’s face. Your cunt fluttered around Remus’s fingers and your hands gripped his hair hard. You came with a loud moan that sounded better than Remus imagined. Your voice trailed off and your breath hitched as Remus let you ride out your orgasm, drinking everything you gave him.

   When you laid slack on the bed, Remus pulled his fingers out of you with a lewd squelch. He licked them while you watched his lust filled eyes take in your naked form. “You taste amazing,” Remus said, pulling his cum soaked boxers off of his throbbing boner. “Can’t believe anyone would ever think of leaving you, pretty girl.”

   Remus crawled on top of you, turning your head to press his lips to yours in an oddly intimate kiss. He tastes like you. “You ready for my dick, pretty? Or are you too tired?”

   You scoffed at Remus’s last question. “Don’t insult me like that, Lupin,” you muttered. You wrapped a leg around his back and looked between the two of you. “Fuck me already.”

   Remus adjusted his hips, hesitant to bury his aching cock into you- raw. “Do you want me to wear a condom?”

   “I have potions,” you answered, bucking your hips, teasing the head of Remus’s cock. “Don’t make me beg.”

   “I’d actually love to see you beg, pretty girl,” Remus mused, sinking down into your needy pussy. He dropped his forhead into your shoulder as you let out a strangled moan at the penetration. “You’re so tight, y/n,” Remus rasped. “Squeezin’ me like I was made for you.”

   Your hands came to grip his shoulder, biting down your mewls. “Please Rem,” you begged, sucking bruises into his skin. “Please.”

   Remus started moving his hips. He knew he wouldn’t last long but the way your chest shuddered and how tight you were squeezing him, you probably wouldn’t last long either. “So tight, darling,” he grunted, snapping his hips roughly into you.

   Your mouth fell open as you wrapped your legs around his waist, doing anything to to be as close to him as possible. “I need it, Remmy, please,” you sobbed, bringing him down to swallow your screams with feverishly hot kisses.

   Of course, Remus complied. The lewd sound of your cunt swallowing Remus’s cock mixed with the sounds of your mewls and muffled moans was a beautiful mixture of sounds Remus tried to commit to memory. You gripped him like a vice, digging your nails into his skin with each thrust. “That’s a good girl,” Remus grunted as his pelvis met yours. You shook under him, eyes searching his. “Takin’ everything I’m giving you… so good for me,” Remus babbled.

   You nodded, pressing your nose into Remus’s skin- anything to be consumed by him. “Please, Remus, I’m gonna cum. I need to cum, I need-“

   “I know, pretty girl. I know. Cum around my cock, yeah? Be a good girl for me and cum,” he growled, burying himself deep inside you. You came with a loud moan, burying your sobbing face into Remus’s shoulder. His hot seed flooded your pussy, filling you with him. You whimpered and tightened your legs around him.

   “Holy Merlin,” you whispered, thighs twitching as cum ran down your thighs.

   “Remus is fine,” the lycanthrope replied wittily.

   Your chuckled and let your head fall back on the bed as you caught your breath. “Shut up and take care of me,” you chuckled. “Please.”

   Remus’s eyes softened. “Since you asked so nicely.”

bonus: James’s Reaction

[patrophthia]

hi babes!!!, I saw your 1K follower event!! ( CONGRATS BTW!!! ), and I was wondering if I could get a fic based off of promise or bewitched by laufey for Theodore nott!!, I don’t really care which song you pick I literally love them both sooooo much!!, I was also wondering if you could make reader like a sunshine personality!, you don’t have too dew about it!!, only do it if you wanna!! <33, anyways that’s it please and thank you!, once again congratulations!!!!🫶🏻🤍,

( made this pink so it matches your theme! )

thank you sweetheart!!! for making it pink and everything and yes i love writing sunshine!readers and love love laufey,,, i went with bewitched bc promise makes me bawl my eyes out but here it is!!

you’ve bewitched me | theodore nott

pairing: theodore nott x reader

genre: fluff, new relationships!!, domestic fluff, it’s so sweet your teeth will rot, reader is mentioned to be shorter than theo

part of my 1k celebration event !

Theodore Nott is well aware of magic and Wizardry alike, he knows of charms and potions like the back of his hand. He knows the effect it might have on a person, how long it can last, and how it tastes —trust him on this, he’s had people slip love potions in his pumpkin juice countless of times before (he tried reaching out to the Professors for assistance but Snape only ended up putting students who looked at Theodore too weirdly into detention, didn’t really work though, seeing as he got slipped another potion a week later). 

But, since he knows it oh so well then why was he having the hardest time trying to come up with why he feels so drawn to you? Why he so incredibly desires you? And why does he miss you so much even when you’re still here, next to him, as you’re bidding him goodbye? 

You’re smiling at him, and it’s soft; it’s so sweet, you’re so sweet to him, it hurts his heart. He doesn’t want to let you go, and neither do you. But it’s getting late, and he knows you have an early class tomorrow —so does he. Your hands are in his; the both of you standing in front of your common room. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” You say lowly, not wanting to disturb the sleeping painting. You’re caring, and Theo loves it. You’re good to the people around you, you’re good to him; and he wonders if you’ve casted a spell on his heart and head to make him think so highly of you. “Breakfast?” 

“Mhmm,” he hums first, nodding. “Breakfast,” he repeats after you, his hand not loosening its grip on yours. “I’ll see you at breakfast.” 

“You will,” you murmur. “Oh! And before I forget,” you say, slipping off your (well, technically his) jacket of your shoulders. “Thank you for this.” 

You nudge it over to him and Theodore doesn’t  make any move to take it. “Keep it,” he says, the position of the jacket is awkward —uncomfortable even, laying between your joint hands as it fell pathetically to the floor. He’s not letting go of you anytime soon, and neither is he accepting his jacket back either. “It looks better on you.” 

“But it’s yours,” you tell him and he’s stubborn, still not accepting it, “and if I keep it then it won’t smell like you anymore.” 

He tries to think straight, to stand his ground on how the jacket is yours now; but when your reason is so so (what’s the word?) endearing, how could he ever say no to you? 

So he finally lets go of your hand, picking the jacket up and tossing it over his shoulder as he hopes that you don’t notice just how badly he’s falling for you, how he’s practically falling apart as he stands before you right then and there. 

And when you smile at him, even brighter this time, with you going on your tippy toes as you did so. “Goodnight, Theo,” you say first, then you kissed him, so quick and so chaste that he barely get to savor you before pulling away. And when you tell him: “I promise to dream of you.” 

He can’t help but press his lips back onto yours, one, two, three, more times before finally letting you go. 

It’s when he watches you leave when he finally understands why he feels so completely drawn to you. You’ve bewitched him; through and through, and he could only hope that your curse will not wear off anytime soon. 

— from bee: theodore nott makes me SICK to stomach,,, i want him so bad

[nocturnalcharm]

Faking It - Part Two (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

𐙚 prompt: part 2 of this fic! 𐙚 cw: smut!! unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), rough, name calling, blowjob, hair pulling, dom!logan sub!reader, creampie, hehe 𐙚 a/n: thank u to everyone who asked for a part 2 :) sorry it’s kinda short, i felt so bad ab making everyone wait :(( i’ve been writing for 10+ yrs for fun but ive never written a smut before so im aware its not the greatest but ill get better with practice :,)

**Tumblr will not let me tag anyone and I cant figure out why! I apologize for not tagging anyone who said they wanted to be tagged**

18+ blog!! you are responsible for your own media consumption. if any of the above makes you uncomfortable, do not proceed.

“Y’know, if you keep rubbing your ass against my dick, I’m gonna do something about it.” His words sounded gruff in your ear, but they gave you butterflies.

“Maybe that’s what I want.” 

It slipped out of your mouth before you even knew what you were saying. Your face burned hot, hoping he would think you were just joking and ignore it.

But you weren’t. You might not have meant to say it out loud, but it’s definitely how you felt.

“That so, huh?” You could tell from his voice he had a smug look on his face.

You turned over, laying on your back and looking at him. “Maybe...”

“Y’know, I could tell something was different today.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“That tiny little bikini. You sitting in my lap. These adorable little panties that you're wearing.” His fingers slipped under the sides of your underwear, daring to pull them down. “Do you have any fucking idea what you do to me?”

You stared at him. Most of those things were just purely coincidental, but you didn’t care anymore. You two were finally recognizing that it wasn’t hate or annoyance between you both… It was lust. It was desire. It was need.

You grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down into a fervent kiss. It felt so right. You gasped for air in the brief moments you two pulled away.

You pushed him over, so he was now on the bottom, and straddled his waist. It only made the make-out hotter, physically; The room felt like it was on fire. You started to grind your hips down onto him, and you could feel how badly he wanted you through his pajama pants.

You started to slowly kiss your way down to his hips, taking your time.

“Enough with the teasin’.”

You looked up at him through your lashes, as you slowly pulled down his pajamas and boxers, only tormenting him more. Once his cock was free, you silently gawked at his size. You took him in your hands, stroking him a few times before trying to fit him in your mouth. You sucked on his tip and he moaned. 

The sounds he let out were like music, causing you to work hard, wanting to hear it again. You continued to suck, adding more and more of his length into your mouth, and using your hand to jerk off what you couldn’t fit.

His hands found their way to your hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail and helping you bob up and down. He pushed you down slightly further, making you deepthroat him. You gagged, instinctively, and pulled away to catch your breath. 

“Fuck.” He groaned. “I’m sorry. Was that okay?” He was clearly worried he’d hurt or upset you in some way, considering you two hadn’t exactly gone over your boundaries. It was sweet, how he was checking in on you. But you didn’t want ‘sweet’.

“Just shut up and use me.”

Those words unleashed something inside of him. With his hands still holding your hair, he gripped harder, pulling you back to look at him.

“Oh, I see. You liked to be used like a good little slut, huh?”

“Mhm.” You nodded enthusiastically.

“Good.” He pushed your head down, forcing your mouth to take his cock all the way down your throat. You barely had to do any work, as he used the grip on your hair to move you up and down. You could feel your panties getting wet just from sucking him off.

“You’re doing such a good job. You love sucking my cock, don’t you?”

You moaned around him in response.

“Say it. Say you love it.”

You came up just long enough to speak, before continuing to deepthroat him, “I love it.”

He let go of your hair, grabbing the sides of your face instead, and started to pound your throat. Tears formed in your eyes as you gagged.

“Your turn.” He growled.

“No.” You stopped. “I just want you to fuck me.”

He stared at you. “Then beg.”

“Please, Lo. Please just fuck me. Need to feel you inside me.”

“Take that shirt off.”

You slipped your tee over your head and threw it across the room. He stared at your bare chest, grabbing one of your breasts and squeezing it. He flipped you over so you were on your stomach. Then, he gripped your hips, pulling them so your ass was in the air. You felt his tip teasing your slick entrance. He pushed in slowly, letting you adjust to his size.

“Fuck. You feel so good. Like this pussy was made for me.”

He wasn’t even in all the way, before you pushed back, taking the remaining inches of his cock.

“Mm, such a good slut for me.” He groaned. He grabbed your hair again, and started fucking you at a harsh pace, pulling your head back. You moaned as he thrusted into you, unable to form any coherent thoughts. He felt so good inside of you.

After a few more minutes of thrusting and moaning, he pulled out and flipped you over again. He put your legs over his shoulders and immediately started fucking you again. Your legs started to shake.

“Takin’ my fucking cock like a good girl.”

“Lo, M’gonna cum.” You whimpered.

“Me too.” He grunted, “Fuck. Where do you want it?”

“Inside.”

He was a little shocked, but hid it from you. “Yeah? You want me to fill you up?”

“Yes! Please, Lo.”

He leaned down, kissing you while he continued pounding. Your legs were up by your head. He pulled away from the kiss and held your legs down. His cock was hitting your cervix in a delicious way that made you feel like you were on cloud nine.

You clenched around him tightly as you finished, digging your nails into his back, and surely leaving marks for later. 

He groaned as his thrusts got more erratic, then slowing. You felt his hot cum pour into you, as he fucked it deeper into you.

He stayed still for a moment, “Are you okay?”

You nodded, and he got up and wet a towel. He wiped you down, and you couldn’t help but smile. “So, how come we never did that before?”

***

The next morning, you woke up to your phone ringing. It was Xavier. You shook Logan awake and answered the phone, putting it on speaker.

“Good morning, Charles.”

“Good morning. The mission is over, so you two may head back today after check-out.”

“What? We didn’t even complete it?” You were confused.

“Yes. There is no mission. The real mission was to get you and Logan to get along and it seems that was accomplished last night. You two may continue to stay at the hotel until the original check-out date, 2 days from now, or you can come back today. It’s your choice.”

“I- Okay. Thanks, Professor.”

You hung up the phone, face beat red.

“I’m going to kill him.”

[joeshiestyslover]

pretty when you cry- c. sturniolo

pairing: toxicbf! chris sturniolo x reader

summary: you know chris doesn’t treat you well and that you should leave him, but you can’t help but stay. chris is well aware of this and wants to treat you better, but he just can’t. after all, you’re just so pretty when you cry.

warnings: so much angst, language, mentions of sex, drug use, chris is an awful bf

masterlist

lowercase intended

a/n: lana del rey + chris is just so 🤭

you felt as if you were slowly dying. all the life that you once held inside you slowly fading away until you were nothing but an empty shell of your former self. you used to be so happy and full of life, never seen without a smile on your face. now, you look sullen, with dark circles under your eyes and a permanent frown tugging on your lips.

everyone asks you what could have possibly happened to make you change so much in such a short amount of time. you always reply with “work is taking a toll on me” or “my boss is a pain in my ass”, but each lie is bigger than the last. you know the source of your constant pain. it’s your boyfriend, christopher sturniolo.

chris used to be the best boyfriend a girl like you could ever ask for: caring, compassionate, funny, etc. the list was endless, and to you, he was perfect. until six months ago.

chris became a completely different person. he was no longer the sweet, charming boy you fell in love with two years ago. instead, he was an angry, violent monster. nights you would spend at his house, filled with sweet nothings and soft giggles were now filled with harsh screams and glass breaking. days that consisted of talking and laughing, were now occupied with silence because you were both still angry about the night before. the once soft, loving sex was now replaced with rough, violent fucking. everything had changed between you, and all you wanted was for you two to go back to how you were a year ago, when everything seemed perfect.

you know that chris is doing drugs, you’ve known for months. every time you try to bring it up to him, it ends in a screaming match, and you storming out the front door. his brothers have tried to get him to stop, yet he refuses, saying it’s the only thing that gets him out of bed anymore.

your heart is slowly breaking, for both you and him. you know you should leave him for good, but you can’t. you love him too much to lose him.

on the other hand, chris knows how badly he’s been treating you and that you deserve so much better than him. however, he knows deep down that you’ll never leave him, so he never truly changes, despite the many promises he’s made that he would.

this leads to a continuous cycle of love and pain. you get fed up with how he treats you, so you confront him. you fight for hours before chris finally breaks down, telling you how much he regrets causing you so much pain and promising he’ll do better. he gets clean for a while and just when everything is beginning to look hopeful, he crashes and burns. he falls back into his old habits once again. then, the cycle continues, leaving you trapped.

you’ve lost count of the amount of times chris has promised to be better and get clean. right now, you and chris are arguing for probably the hundredth time about the same damn topic: him saying he’ll get clean, but he never does.

“this isn’t okay christopher! you have to understand where i’m coming from! i’m worried about you! i’m scared for you!” you yell. “i don’t need you to worry y/n! i’m fine! stop treating me like i’m a child!” he yells back in your face. you feel helpless. you’ve tried everything to help him, but he just won’t accept it. “you’re gonna kill yourself one day! can you even imagine what that would do to me?! to your brothers?! to your parents?! i just-” “don’t fucking bring my family into this!” chris cuts you off. you sigh and run your fingers through your hair. “look,” you start, lowering your voice. “you know i love you chris, but this is terrifying. i have to watch you slowly destroy yourself and i can’t do anything about it because you won’t let me help you.” “it’s because i don’t need your help! i’m doing perfectly fine! it’s not my fault that you want to make everyone else miserable just because you are!” your jaw drops. “i’m miserable because you’re making me miserable! i’m not this person! i’m not full of constant anxiety! i’m not constantly suffering! it’s you chris! i’m like this because of you! because of how you’ve been acting for the past year!” you scream hopelessly. you sit down on the couch in chris’ living room, trying to calm down and compose your thoughts.

“well if you’re so fucking miserable, then just leave, y/n!” you freeze and look up at him. he had never suggested you leave him before. “what?” you ask softly, hoping you heard him wrong. “if i’m so horrible to you, then you can leave! i’m not gonna stop you!” chris waves his arms around frantically.

without another word, you stand up from the couch and walk toward the front door, grabbing your phone and car keys on the way out. you open the door, walk out, then slam it closed. speed walking to your car, you try to keep your tears at bay, but you fail miserably. as soon as you get in and shut the door, the silent tears turn into heart wrenching sobs. trying to calm yourself, you put your car in reverse and back out of the driveway. you have no idea where you’re going to go, but anywhere is better than here.

you end up at a parking lot of a fast food restaurant, but not just any restaurant. it’s the same one where you and chris went out on your first date. you both didn’t want to go anywhere fancy, so you decided on grabbing fast food. you begin to cry even more at the memories of that night. you can’t help but remember how sweet he was and how much he cared for you. how the hell did it come to this? how did you get here?

everything in you is telling you to leave chris for good. you can’t keep going on like this. you love chris so much, more than you’ve ever loved anyone, but he’s slowly killing you from the inside out.

you decide to go back home and tell chris it’s over. you take a deep breath and begin driving. on the way there, the memories of you and chris are on a constant loop in your mind:

your first date,

chris had picked you up outside of your house that night, refusing to tell you where you were going, claiming it was a surprise. before you knew it, he had pulled into the mcdonald’s parking lot. “chris are we at a mcdonald’s right now?” you asked. “well, you said that your favorite restaurant was mcdonald’s so voila, here we are.” chris smiled at you. you laugh and throw your head back. “but if you wanna go somewhere fancier then i’m sure i can squeeze in a reservation-” “chris this is perfect. as long as it’s with you i don’t care where we go.” you smile at him, putting your hand on his arm.

your first kiss,

it was your third date, and you were sure you were in love with chris. he was the perfect guy. the date had gone perfectly, you had gone to a park and just sat on a bench and talked about anything and everything. at the end of the night, he walked you to your door. “tonight was amazing chris. thank you.” you smiled up at him. “y/n, i really like you and you make me laugh. i was wondering if i could be your boyfriend?” he asked you nervously while shifting on the balls of his feet. your smile grew even wider. “i would love to be your your boyfriend chris.” you reached your hand up to cup his cheek. chris leaned his head down to brush his lips against yours. “can i kiss you?” he whispered. you nodded, and before you knew it, he smashed his lips against yours.

the first time he told you he loved you.

you both were lying in chris’ bed watching bridgerton. after much convincing, he had finally agreed to watch it with you, and of course, he loved it. you were watching the episode where edwina left anthony at the altar, and you were hooked even though you had already watched the show a countless amount of times. you felt a pair of eyes boring into the side of your head, and looked up to see chris staring at you, disregarding the show in front of him. “chris? are you okay?” you asked him. “i love you.” he blurted out. “what?” you were shocked. those three words were the last thing you expected to come from chris’ mouth. “it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, i just needed you to know.” you reached up and pressed your lips against his. “i love you too chris.” you both smiled at each other and kissed once more.

all the good memories made you yearn for chris, but you know nothing will ever be the same. he’s not your chris anymore, he’s someone else entirely. he had made himself a stranger to you.

once you get home, you pull into the driveway and get out. you’re shaking with anxiety at this point. you notice the door is unlocked, so you turn the handle and walk inside. you can hear the tv going in chris’ room, so you know he’s in there. you shakily exhale before stepping inside. you immediately make a beeline for the closet, not bothering to look at chris.

“you’re back already, huh?” he speaks up. you ignore him as you rifle through the closet until you find your overnight bag. you throw it on the bed as you take as many clothes as you can carry and shove them into it. “y/n, what are you doing?” chris asks nervously. “i’m leaving chris. you don’t want my help that’s fine, but you can’t expect me to just stand and watch as you fall apart. i can’t do that.” you can’t even look at him because you know you’ll break once you do.

“baby” he begins as he makes his way towards you. “baby look at me please.” chris reaches out and cups your cheek, his thumb rubbing back and forth. you can’t help yourself and look up into his blue eyes. the same ones you fell in love with, and for a moment, you saw a glimpse of the sweet boy you fell in love with. “i didn’t mean anything i said. it was so stupid of me to tell you to leave. i love you so much. i’ll do anything to keep you. i’ll get clean and i promise i’ll do better. i’ll be a better man for you just please don’t leave.” chris begins to beg. you don’t want to give in to his empty promises, but you can’t help yourself. you love him too much to leave. “promise?” you ask weakly. “i promise baby, i’ll never hurt you again, i swear.” he complies. you smile at him before leaning up to capture his lips with yours. after a while, he breaks away. “you know i love you, even if i get aggressive sometimes, yeah? i’m just not good at showing it, but you know i love you. you know that right, y/n?” you want to believe him so badly, but deep down you know that this is just the beginning of the cycle you’ve found yourself trapped in for months. you’re just waiting for it to get bad again. “yeah i know baby.” you tell him softly, not even believing your own words. chris smiles slightly before kissing you again. to be honest, chris doesn’t believe himself either, but he wants to try, for you. and if everything goes south again, then it’s a good thing you’re pretty when you cry.

[nyrandrea]

No because he is as well, I adore the way he was written!! I was the same gigglin n kickin my feet each n everytime 😭

But can I ask for a request then, so say reader n Astarion ( plus two others ) are in an fight and reader just gets badly injured n knocked out and he just loses it killing anyone in his path to get to reader caring about them agshdudisowowi

Thanks so much for the request! I had quite a bit of fun writing this prompt.

Few warnings for canon-typical violence, blood, injury and animal death. Yyyyeah it is quite the doozy.

Word Count - 1.9k

Hope you enjoy!

xxx

The moon hung low in the starlit sky, its pale light casting ghostly shadows upon a narrow, winding mountain path. You and your party had been travelling all day as you wanted to cover more considerable ground to make up for time lost due to camping. However, the physical toll it was taking on everyone was starting to show as you all moved cautiously through the rugged terrain. 

Lae’zel was understandably the most resilient of the group, her tough demeanor betrayed only by the beads of sweat that trailed down her knitted eyebrows as she focused on conquering the path ahead. Shadowheart seemed to be driven purely by spite just to keep up with the githyanki; you almost had to fight her a few times just to get her to stop and catch her breath before she keeled over.  

You were feeling pretty run down yourself, every step felt heavier as time dragged on and your muscles were screaming at you to stop, but if you made it to that rock, to that tree, just over the hill, across the river, only then could you rest. 

You said that about ten rocks and five rivers ago. 

“That’s it!” A familiar voice shouted out from behind you, and you instinctively rolled your eyes. “I can’t take this anymore.” 

Turning around, you were greeted with the sorry sight of Astarion collapsing onto his knees and huffing for breath, and it seemed as if he wasn’t going to get back up anytime soon.  

“Astarion-” 

“Don’t you ‘Astarion’ me with that... little disappointed pout of yours,” the vampire said. “I am literally on my knees begging here, darling. We need to stop for the night.” 

“As sad as your little theatrics are,” Shadowheart walked over to the two of you and smirked down at him before turning to you. “He does have a point. We’ve been walking all day; I think I lost all feeling in my feet about half an hour ago.”  

“And you say he is the dramatic one?” Lae’zel cut in, sneering down at you from a higher ledge. “Look at you all, complaining like children. This is nothing compared to-” 

“Yes, yes, you have endured a horrendous array of training throughout your arduous upbringing on the Astral Plane that has transformed you into the fearsome warrior you are today; we get it,” Astarion said sarcastically, earning a snort of laughter from Shadowheart and a scowl from yourself. “But I for one am not made of pure titanium and would like to rest.” 

“Fine,” Lae’zel growled. “But if the ghaik tadpole decides to turn your insides out because of your time wasting, then I shall be all too happy to end your life.” 

“It’s a deal, darling.” 

With everyone in agreement, you relieved yourself of your heavy backpack and quickly got to work on setting up a makeshift camp. Dinner was a small, cooked rabbit to share, while Astarion waited patiently for you to finish until you let him drink his fill. You didn’t miss the concerned glance shared between Shadowheart and Lae’zel but said nothing. 

As the darkness deepened and the others retired for the evening, you decided you didn’t quite want to go to sleep quite yet— a decision you were probably going to regret come morning. Regardless, the stars were out tonight, and you weren’t certain when you might next get to enjoy them during this treacherous journey, if ever. 

The tadpole behind your eye wriggled slightly, and you were worried it was going to waste your night with a migraine and unwanted whispers, but instead it settled down. You huff a sigh of relief; you were spared, for tonight anyway. 

Despite the sky above being a sight to behold, your eyes couldn’t help but keep wandering down. Astarion was sitting across from you, his eyes creased and lips in a tight line as he concentrated on the ghastly book spread across his lap. The Necromancy of Thay had been his focus of attention for these past few nights, and you were honestly starting to worry a little for him. Sure, it was you who had given it to him in the first place (after he practically begged you for it), but the way he hyper focused on it at times was... concerning, to say the least. 

You clear your throat, hoping to catch his attention. 

It doesn’t work; you try again. 

“Oh, do shut up...!” 

His sharp tone makes you recoil slightly, and the vampire mirrors you, glancing between you and the book with widened eyes. 

“O-Oh no, I didn’t mean you, my dear. It’s this blasted book,” Astarion says, frowning down at it like a disappointed parent. “I can’t make heads or tails of the damn thing.” 

“Do you... need some help?” You meekly offer, even though you didn’t know the first thing about necromancy; some things were just best left untouched in your opinion. 

“You’re a sweetheart,” he breathes out a little chuckle. “But no.” He allows the book to close with a heavy thump before his eyes trail back up, lingering on you for a moment. “But I could do with a... little distraction.” 

As the fire crackles and pops, your cheeks flare up as Astarion slowly crawls his way around, not stopping until he is only inches away from you. Not quite knowing what to do or where to look, your body goes stiff as he slowly leans in towards you.  

“What do you think, hm?” he purrs, his knuckle softly caressing your cheekbone as he brushes away a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Shall we have a little fun?” 

You nod shyly and allow him to draw you in as he cups your face and brushes his lips against yours, only to suddenly stiffen and pull away. A surge of panic jabs up from under your ribs as you’re worried that, somehow, you’ve done something to hurt him or put him off. 

“I-I’m sorry!” You blurt out. “Are you okay?” 

He eases your fretting by smoothing down your arms with an almost amused expression. “No, it’s not you, never you, I can’t stress that enough but there’s... something-,” he frowns and sniffs the air.  

Oh Gods, did you stink? You knew it had been a while since you last washed but… 

No, his attention was away from you as he quickly got to his feet and focused on what appeared to be a large boulder of sorts, about ten feet away from where you lay. 

Astarion’s eyes widen, and for the first time in a long time, he looks terrified. 

“Shit, he’s found me again. We’ve got to leave, now!” 

Suddenly, like vipers striking from the shadows, a group of monster hunters descended upon you, the night erupting into chaos as they sprang into action with ruthless efficiency. Swords and daggers glinted ominously in the dim firelight as you and the others desperately tried to defend yourselves. 

Fear and confusion gripped the group as you fought back against your assailants, but the element of surprise was with the ambushers. They moved with a deadly grace; their tactics honed through countless skirmishes. The clash of steel and cries of anguish pierced the night air.  

Desperation fueled your resistance, but they outnumbered you five to one, and that was without including their attack dogs, who had taken to separating you from the rest of the group as their personal prey. You jab your sword at their snapping maws, shout and try to make yourself look big to fend them off or, at the very least, make them think twice about attacking you.  

However, none of it seems to work as one takes a lunge at you and sinks their jaws into your arm. The jolt of shock quickly wore off to the searing heat of pain as the dog tugged and shook you like a rag doll, the beast spurred on by the snarls and barks of the others before they joined in on the mauling. 

You tried to scream but it hurt to even breathe, reducing you to mere gasping as your limbs throbbed and your head pounded. You thought you heard screaming, but the chaos of the battle muffled your senses as if you were being held underwater. You fall flat on your back as you’re pinned down to the ground, your eyes fluttering as something hot, wet and slimy drips onto your cheeks. Your eyes are met with a row of fangs; you shut them quickly, unwilling to look your death in the face. 

In that moment, an anguished cry cuts through the noise, and your eyes snap open. 

The next few moments are a blurry, bloody mess; primal and violent as you can just make out different voices—the hunter’s voices— crying out in pain along with the sound of wet tearing, of fangs ripping into flesh and blood splattering across the ground. You can only stare ahead, eyes wide with fear and body numb as the heavy weight on your chest is suddenly lifted. There’s a pitiful whine and a crunching snap, and the carnage finally stops. 

After a few moments of unbearable silence, your jumbled thoughts immediately go to your teammates, and you try to push yourself up to go help them. They were probably hurt, or worse, dead. You had to get up. Just... get up! 

‘Get up!’ 

“Get up goddamn you!” 

Your blurred vision slowly cleared as you blinked away your tears, and a familiar, blood-splattered face came into view. Gods but Astarion looked so afraid; his red eyes were wet, and his bottom lip quivered ever so slightly as he gently slid his hands under your broken body to help you sit up. 

“Oh, thank the Gods,” he whispered. “He... he will not take you away from me. I won’t let him.” He looks over his shoulder and shouts, “Cleric, get over here now!” 

His lips curled into a snarl as Shadowheart dropped to her knees beside you, as if he was frustrated that she wasn’t healing you quick enough. As if to confirm, he snaps at her to hurry up. 

“Shouting at me isn’t going to make the process go any quicker, I need to concentrate,” Shadowheart bit back, before her gaze softened upon you as a golden light washed out from her hands and over your body. “Just hold on a little longer, okay?” 

“She is right, you must calm yourself,” Lae’zel softly ordered Astarion as she knelt by your other side. “You have already taken your rage out on the enemy, do not let it overtake you.” 

Astarion said nothing as he focused solely on you, whispering hushed promises and honeyed words that got jumbled through your dazed state, but you appreciated them all the same. You tried to show him this by curling your stiff fingers around his, the coolness of his skin bringing a brief respite to your burning hot hands. He breathes out a sad, broken chuckle and reciprocates your gesture with a soft kiss to your fingers. 

The moon bore witness to the tragedy, casting its cold, indifferent light upon the scene, but you thought it shone beautifully, all the same. 

xxx

[sophrosynesworld]

with all my love,

Edit: This is now a series with more parts available. Enjoy!

This idea came into my head, basically your significant other is an absent Katsuki Bakugo. After months of a loveless relationship, you decide to leave this note and finally move on.

Dear Katsuki,

If you’re reading this, I’ve already moved my belongings out of our home. You might not believe me, but I’ve had the majority of my items packed in a suitcase next to the front door. It’s been sitting there for the past week, but you never once questioned it.

Each day I waited, hoping you’d notice, hoping you’d ask me about it. Each day, my heart broke a little more when you walked past it without a second glance. I wanted so badly for you to see, to care, to fight for us.

I can’t live like this anymore. I’m tired of sharing a house that feels more like a cold, empty shell than a home. I’m tired of sitting alone at the dinner table, my heart sinking with every passing hour that you’re not there. I’m tired of not seeing you for days on end, of lying awake at night wondering if you’re bleeding out in an alleyway. I might not be a pro-hero, but I’m still your partner. I was your partner.

For months, I fought to gain your attention back, praying to whatever god would listen. I used to beg them, offering anything they wanted, just so you would notice how much I've changed. I started working out again, sculpting my body into something I thought you’d find appealing, hoping to catch your eye like I once did. I even joined a cooking class, learning to make all your favorite dishes. I wanted to surprise you with a homemade meal. You would have known that, if you made it home for dinner once in 4 months.

Do you remember our first apartment after graduation? That tiny studio next to the noodle shop? I find myself there sometimes, watching the new couple who lives in our old place. It's become a painful habit, seeing them live out what we once had. Her boyfriend seems kind, and they slow dance in the kitchen, just like we used to. Sometimes, I can almost hear your laughter echoing in their space, as if our ghosts still linger there.

I remember when we used to laugh and dance together, our dreams tangled like a ball of red string. We would stay up late, talking about our future, making plans that felt like promises. Now, our home your home haunts me. The warmth I once felt has been replaced by a suffocating darkness. I don't know what changed, Katsuki, but pretending everything is fine is tearing me apart.

I often wonder what your biggest regret in life will be. Is it pushing your friends away, no matter how hard they try to love you? Maybe it will be all the times you let your anger get the best of you. Could it be not taking a moment to stop and smell the roses, to appreciate the simple, beautiful moments life has to offer.

I don't know if you've found someone else. Part of me dreads the truth. I don’t want to know if there’s another name on your lips, another face in your heart. I don't think I could bear knowing their name or imagining you whispering those same sweet words into their ear.

Izuku says it’s selfish, but I hope your biggest regret in life is losing me. I hope you see my face in every little thing—the flowers you never stopped to admire, the meals we never shared, the quiet moments you never savored. I hope my laughter echoes in your silence, my tears in your loneliness. I hope my memory haunts your future as painfully as our present haunts me.

If you still love me, Katsuki Bakugo, I haven't felt that love from you in months.

With all of my love,

[daenysx]

hi! i’m pretty new to your blog but i’m really loving your content! you’re a fantastic writer. if it’s okay i’d like to request something for james x reader, where r is going through a friendship breakup and james is comforting her? i completely understand if you don’t want to write this, regardless i’ll continue to enjoy your content! have a great day/night 💗

hi, angel, thank you so much for being so kind! i hope you enjoy ♡ requests are open

james potter x fem!reader, modern au

"come on." you scoff, looking at your phone and feeling sick to your stomach. james lifts his head from his laptop to see what you're doing. you put the phone on couch a bit harshly, crossing your arms defensively.

"angel?" he asks.

"yeah, jamie?"

"everything alright?" he puts his laptop on the coffee table to go by your side. you turn your head, feeling a hot teardrop roll on your cheek.

"she doesn't even care about what i say." you start. james knows exactly who you're talking about. "i'm trying to talk about how i feel and she- it's nothing to her, apparently."

"what did she say?" james asks, he rubs a generous hand on your arm.

"she just- she says she's sorry and she'll fix it, but she said all those things 2 months ago! just- you need to do something for someone if you promise them but she keeps forgetting and she never explains anything."

you're getting more upset each second. this is a person who you spent your days with before, someone close enough to share secrets. something happened two months ago, something you can't even properly remember now, and she hurt you. she never realized how distanced you've been and when you told her, she promised she'll fix it. two fucking months ago. she did nothing.

"am i doing wrong?" you ask james. "is it wrong to be angry?"

"no." he says. "it's not wrong if you feel like it. you don't wanna let go of her so easy but- i guess she doesn't try like you do."

the truth hurts so badly. you hate losing friendships, strangers turning into loved ones, losing them makes you feel like losing a part of your memories. what can you do? you're feeling too proud, too unforgiving. you don't want to be a bad person.

"i just don't know why she keeps giving up on me." you say, quietly. tears turn into hushed breaths. "am i so easily forgettable?"

"no." james takes you in his arms. "baby, of course not. it's not your fault if you believe you try hard enough to save your friendship. maybe it's not anyone's fault. sometimes things don't work out."

you put your head on james's shoulder. "i thought we were closer than this." you say, sadly. "maybe i was wrong."

james rubs your back until you relax on him. your phone is forgotten, you won't send any more texts tonight. it already hurts enough, but you gotta get through it.

"i'm sorry." he says, a quiet sound comes out of his lips as he kisses your head. "i'm sorry it's hurting, baby. you'll be okay."

maybe you should just leave this as a good relationship that is over now. there's no need to try to save something if it's already lost. you've gone through this before, you can do it again. you think your anger for the situation will make you forget about things quicker. you won't hold any grudges.

"i don't wanna be friends with someone who treats me like this." you say, sharply. "i didn't do anything to deserve it."

james kisses your hair again. "i'm not blaming her." you say, after a second. "it's not anyone's fault at this point but- i won't try anymore. she can do anything she wants, i guess."

not getting a closure hurts a bit, but you'll survive. james likes how you perceive the situation from both sides, you don't see yourself as the only person who's right, you still have respect and love for your old friend. your head stays tucked on his neck nicely, he rubs your now dried cheeks with cool fingers.

when you look at james with expectant eyes, he nods. it's good to see him agreeing with you, you know he'd tell you if you were making an irrational decision out of anger. you kiss his cheek and he carries you to his side of the couch.

you don't look at your phone again that night. james figures out you like watching sitcoms when you're upset. you fall asleep to the background sound of the office, your head on james's chest and his hand on your lower back.

[clockwayswrites]

A Broken Sort of Normal Part 8

WC:1175 Masterpost

Wherever they stopped was completely dark and definitely outside. As a cool breeze blew past, Danny was very glad he listened and had brought a jacket.

“You know,” Danny said as he climbed off Flash’s back. “It’s a good thing that you’re a hero, because this has mild serial killer vibes.”

“What?! No no,” Flash stammered before he dashed around the area.

Lights bloomed behind him as he ran, illuminating the space. They were in a field of some sort, standing on the foundation of a long gone building. The prairie grasses caught and sparkled in the light of the various lanterns that Flash had turned on. A cozy looking pile of blankets and a few pillows sat in the center of the foundation. Flash stopped next to it, shifting nervously on his feet.

“I, um. So there’s a meteor shower tonight!” Flash rushed to explain, the words almost garbled with how he was practically vibrating in place. “And I thought we’d come somewhere really dark where we could watch it? Since you like space? And I packed a little picnic for us too and…”

“That sounds really, really nice,” Danny said with a soft smile, talking over Flash’s almost panicked explanation. “I didn’t think I’d get to see the meteor shower this year, so this is really awesome.”

“Yeah? Okay, good,” Flash said, almost slumping as the nervous energy drained out of him. “I hope it’s a good night for them.”

“Even if not, this is… great, really great Flash,” Danny said. He made his way to the blanket, slipping his shoes off before he sat. “It’s been… it’s been a really long time since anyone has done something like this for me. Thank you.”

“Yeah? Wow, I keep saying that. I mean you’re welcome,” Flash said as he took off his peculiar boots and sat down next to Danny. “I’m glad you said yes.”

“You made me curious,” Danny said honestly. He picked up Flash’s boot, studying it as the other unpacked the backpack. “What are these made of to not just disintegrate when you run? I mean, obviously a polymer of some sort, but the friction it has to withstand…”

“Oh, we use a lot of the same stuff that you see in factories where machines produce high friction and some science from the automotive industry and even the aerospace,” Flash explained when he paused to see what Danny was talking about. “The shoes were pretty easy. The suit was the real problem.”

“Weave issues,” Danny said with a little nod. “Makes sense.”

“And chaffing,” Flash said with a grimace. “I have used so much baby powder.”

Danny couldn’t help but laugh at Flash’s expression. “I bet.”

“Yeah. Luckily Un—um, the other Flash had a lot of things worked out before I put on the suit.”

“That’s cool. Chemistry was never my thing, but material engineering can be really inventive.”

“There you are being smart again.”

“Me? Nah, my parents are just inventors. I used to do some work in their lab when I was a kid,” Danny said, setting the shoe down.

“And you didn’t want to follow in their footsteps?” Flash asked, his tone oddly soft.

Danny snorted. “Their type of science? No way. And besides, I never would have gotten into a good program. I, ah… didn’t do too well in high school.”

“No?”

“Nope. There was an accident in my parent’s lab with one of their inventions…” Danny closed his eyes. It was still hard to talk about the accident, especially when he couldn’t really talk about it. “Got electrocuted pretty badly by it. My heart stopped. Anyways, it threw me off pretty badly for a time and then I just never really got my feet under me. And there was this stupid bully and some other shit… sorry, excuses, I know.”

“Hey, no, reasons. People who think every reason is an excuse really don’t want you to explain yourself, they just want you to feel bad,” Flash said and bumped their shoulders together lightly. “Besides, look where you are now! You’re doing so much good and already a team lead. That’s amazing. Who cares about how you did in high school anymore?”

“My sister, for one,” Danny said. He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Wow, sorry, I really brought the mood down, huh? Show me what you brought for this picnic. After your pizza choices I’m curious what else you like.”

“Dude, you ate the pizza!” Flash defended, though his grin gave away his amusement.

“I wasn’t insulting your tastes, curious can be a good thing. It got me to agree to tonight, remember?" Danny asked. He was smiling again, despite the serious conversations a few moments ago. It was almost startling how easy it was to smile around Flash.

(Danny wasn’t complaining about that either.)

“Mmhummm, sure,” Flash said, ducking his head to hide his grin.

"Come on, unpack the snacks,” Danny said, nudging their shoulders together.

“Okay, okay, demanding,” Flash said with with a smile. “It’s a picnic, yeah? So have to have watermelon, but even better than normal watermelon, I have pickled watermelon!”

“Pickled watermelon?” Danny asked, taking the presented container curiously.

“Salty, sweet, tangy— the best,” Flash said. “And some little bread bite things to go with them.”

“How specific.”

“Shut it. Oh! Right, wasabi peas, a must have, and cupcakes for dessert!” Flash said, pulling out frankly extravagant looking cupcakes.

“You’re spoiling me.”

“Well,” Flash said. Danny could just barely see the blush coating his cheeks. “Maybe I think you deserve to be spoiled.”

Danny froze for a moment. Oh. Oh. This was a date. He felt foolish for not cluing in earlier. Suddenly feeling bashful himself, he glanced at Flash. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, like, okay, I’m getting that you don’t seem to think it, which is really like, so wrong, but you’re really amazing and nice and I mean, I’m just saying that I’m glad you said yes to tonight and since you said yes I’m going to spoil you, because, um, you deserve it,” Flash said in a blur of words.

It was charming that Flash thought that highly of him. Misguided, maybe, but charming. It bloomed a warmth in Danny’s chest that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Before he lost his nerves, Danny leaned over and pressed a light kiss to Flash’s cheek, right above the corner of his lips. “Thank you.”

Flash blushed red enough to match his mask. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Danny agreed and leaned against Flash. “Oh, look! A meteor!”

“Where? I see it! Wait, I’ll turn out most of the lights!” Flash said, gone and back before Danny even had a chance to tilt over. There was just enough light left to see the food without losing the overwhelming wonder that was the night sky and streaking meteors. “Make a wish.”

“Naw,” Danny said. He’d never do that again. Besides… “don’t need to. This is already perfect.”

“Yeah,” Flash softly agreed as he twined their fingers together.

-----

AN: The boooooooys. My, I just enjoy writing these two being all soft and cute so much. And hey! Danny clued in! What do we think of Wally's food choices? (Can you tell I've been craving pickled watermelon?)

Stay delightful, my darlings!

I no longer tag people, but you can subscribe to be notified on the masterpost!

[moonrisecoeur]

hey btw free use with leon fem reader let’s go

(btw this is totally consensual and negotiated. pls respect ur partners boundaries !! contains some manhandling, roughness, and a mention of somno! this is re4r leon cuz he’s my boyfriend sorryyy)

he doesn’t know really what to initially expect when you first work out how, like, free use will work in your relationship. it technically goes both ways but leon’s a gentleman (actually not true he’s a perv he just got no game no confidence no rizz) and honestly it doesn’t really appeal to him to ‘take you whenever and wherever he wants’. not really his vibe. he gets nervous to be too touchy feely that he wouldn’t even consider it unless you’re asleep and he’s just gotten home from a mission, but even then he’d probably just wake you up.. screw ur sleep rhythm ur babygirl just got home from a mission!! and he’s horny!! help him out!!

but when it comes to you using him freely.. it’s a different story. nothing really compares to that warm feeling that builds in his stomach as you touch him, practically manhandling him into the position you want him in. groping his ass or chest whenever your please gives him butterflies, because he knows that finally, finally, you’re not holding back your desire for him. he can see it plain as day because there’s no wall there anymore of ‘does he want this? is it weird if i just do it out of nowhere? should i ask him first?’ kinda thoughts, just you touching him however you please, whenever you please.

and it’s so freeing to leon. god it really is. he doesn’t have to be a decision maker, a competent agent, a killer. he just has to exist, and you’ll do what you please with him. there’s no standard that he has to meet to be worthy of your love. in fact, he likes that he can easily tell how badly you want him, because you don’t even ask anymore. you just pull him close and fiddle with his belt and it’s not like he’s going to stop you, not when you’re pushing him down and making him feel small and submissive, vulnerable to your every whim.

truthfully? let’s be honest here, leon’s not the best with women. he’s awkward and can’t communicate very well, he tries his best and he’s genuine but god is he clumsy with words. he tries to be romantic but it comes off as boyish and you can’t help but laugh endearingly when your flirty or sexual comments go over his head. he’s dense, is all i’m saying. so it’s easier to just let you do whatever you please than having to explain to him that you’ve been making sexual remarks all night and he was too focused on your pretty face to realize you’ve wanted to fuck him stupid for hours.

he likes the kind of free use where you’re gentle with him, softly kissing his shoulder and grasping onto his torso from behind. he chuckles deeply, his hands pull away when he realizes that you’re sneaking your hand under his shirt to feel him up. he won’t stop you, not when you’re just feeling touchy.

but if he’s being honest, he likes the rough and demeaning free use more. pushing him down as soon as he gets home, not even giving him a moment to take off his jacket before you’re on top of him, touching him, whispering, “who cares if the neighbors hear us, baby? i hope they do. i hope they’re jealous of the stars you’re about to see.”

pinning him against the wall is so. ugh. god he’s so pathetic for getting off on it, but just thinking about putting him in a position he couldn’t get out of no matter how much stronger he is than you, completely just making him all vulnerable makes him so horny like!! he’s gotta be helpless there’s no other way !! can’t move can’t escape or get away (not that he’s trying to like. actually haha) all he can’t do is lay there pathetically as you like. press your thumb into his mouth or rub your knee against his crotch. and then get up and move on with your day like nothing happened !

pushing him against the kitchen counter, bending him over just to get a feel of his ass. his muscles are obviously tense, and he’s grateful you can’t see the look on his face from your perspective. he gasps and moans and his face is hot, his ears are such a pretty shade of red that you can’t help but want to embarrass him.

he’s yours to keep and love and fuck and god he’s all yours. all fucking yours. you touch him whenever you want, push his head between your thighs and keep him there until you’re satisfied, and use his cock for every last bit of pleasure it could give you, filling you up exactly how you like.

of course, you let him cum in the process, you’re not that selfish. but it’s mainly about you. it’s this possessive feeling in your soul that claims him as yours, all belonging to you, only you. the nails dragging down his back, digging into his skin, drawing his blood, tell him that loud and clear.

he’s a little terrified, but he’s into it.

[yujinnieswifeu]

Imagine a soft-dom vampire!gaeul in an outfit like the Accendio one😵‍💫😵‍💫

Pairings: sub!fem reader x soft-dom vampire!Gaeul

Warnings: smuttt

a/n: Thanks for requesting this anon! I hope this was what u meant when u said the accendio one🥹. Just wanted to add on that i just edited this ask since i might or might not have written it half asleep and realised how badly written it was🤐, so hopefully you guys enjoy it! Thanks for reading <3

It happened again. You wake up, feeling oddly cold. Looking around your room, you felt like you were being watched by someone. It makes you shiver, not from the cold but because of the irking feeling. “W-who’s there?” You were scared, gripping onto the blanket as it covers your body, opting to hide underneath it until you saw a shadow, it makes you remove the blanket immediately, your heart racing.

The figure had disappeared again, and you let out a defeated sigh instead, trying to tell yourself you were probably hallucinating as you tried to sleep for the third time today. Gaeul peers into the window, watching as you attempt to sleep. She sighs to herself, how was she getting nervous? She really did not understand why she was feeling this way, but when she first saw you, which was almost a month back, she knew instantly you were the one she was waiting for. Fast forward to now, she once again tried to just take you, bite against your shoulder and give you no options but to be hers. But why was she hesitating? She thinks it’s love, no, she knows, she just can’t admit to it. Alas, today would not be the day she would have you.

The next morning came pretty fast, and you found yourself waking up to your alarm. You yawned, stretching yourself over the bed before groggily getting up. You went to the bathroom, and start your normal routine. After that, you rushed to work, and made it just in time. Just another 9 hours more, and work ends, you thought. As you sat down at your desk, you thought about life, how boring it was and routine like, you wondered if this would just be you for the rest of your life, and winced a little, shrugging the thought off and getting to work.

。。。

Back at home, you did your usual routine again, eating and washing up, before you lay on the bed. You were reading something on your phone, and it suddenly became really erotic. You started squirming on the bed, the sticky feeling between your legs now had your attention, and you bit your bottom lip. It wasn’t often you masturbated, but you felt like you really needed it, and so you start to touch yourself. Your fingers creeps its way inside of your shorts, feeling how wet you already were when you touch the fabric against your core. Moaning softly, you start to pleasure yourself, your other hand playing at your own tits as you squeeze your left breast. It only makes you even wetter, as you move your fingers faster against your own clit.

Gaeul was watching all these unfold, it makes her core throb as you pleasure yourself, and she felt like she could not hold it back anymore. Sure, she had seen you did this too before, but she was starting to get impatient. The thought of her fingers rubbing your wet folds, and hearing you moan was driving her crazy. She needed you. With one swift movement, she stepped inside the room through your windows which weren’t locked. You were too caught up in pleasure to notice, moaning louder as you neared your orgasm. It wasn’t until you felt your vision cut off, as someone had placed their hands over your eyes. Before you were about to scream, she moves one of her hand to cover your mouth.

“Shh…don’t you need help with that?” She whispers against your ears, it makes you shiver. You did not know why, but you were getting more turned on in this situation. Yes you were scared, but when you heard a woman’s voice, you didn’t feel as scared as you were. Maybe it was because you were into girls? But you didn’t care about that now, you just wanted the stranger to touch you, to give you what you want. Questions can come later.

When Gaeul knew you weren’t going to scream for help, she removes her hand from your mouth. “P-please!” You whimper, and she almost groans at how needy you were. “What do you want me to do doll?” She places her free hand against your inner thigh, teasing you and you buckle your hips, seeking for the pleasure that you so wanted. You were so close, till she interrupted that all. “Please touch me. I need to come so bad.” You plead, and she could not hold herself back, entering your heat in your pants as she circled your bundle of nerves. You immediately moan, grinding against her fingers desperately as she continues to rub against your clit. Not being able to see who was giving you pleasure was making you even wetter, you didn’t know that this could even turn you on, but you did not care about that now.

“I-i need to come, please do-don’t stop!” You cry out, and you felt her fingers rub against your bundle of nerves even faster, it has you rolling your eyes, moaning even louder as you came all over the strangers’ fingers. Panting, you suddenly could see again as she removes her hand. You turned your head around, your heart racing as you came face to face with the stranger that had just made you orgasm. You could feel your breath hitch, the woman in front of you was wearing a black tight fitting costume (idk how to explain it in detail sorry😭), and you swore you had never seen someone as beautiful as she was in that moment, finding yourself staring instead.

She only smirks, moving to straddle your hips as she pins your hands above your head. “Like what you see?” She teases, and it makes you whimper. “I-i just didn’t expect someone like you to be doing something like this…how did you even get in my room?” You shiver slightly, suddenly feeling how cold it was, the familiar feeling from yesterday etched in your mind and her fingers that wraps around your wrist, they felt cold too. It makes you wonder if there was really a person there? And if not, was she alright? Was she sick? Is she..human? “Yes…i was in your room yesterday, yes i’m a vampire, and if you’re wondering how i just answered your question in your mind, i can read minds.” She looked down at you, seeing your face turned to one of shock, but oddly calm. “S-so i was right! There was really someone in my room yesterday!” You exclaims and she raise a brow at you.

“You’re not scared?” She looks into your eyes, finding none and was taken aback. “I just..can’t believe my luck, that’s all..i mean, look at you? You look so…so gorgeous.” You bit your bottom lip, feeling your heart race instead. “How about the vampire part?” She continues, ignoring the fact that you’re flushed for her. She really was not good with emotions, but she took note of it, she would try just for you, she thought, but not today. She needed to focus on her goal, for you to accept her and be hers. Instead of replying to her question, you simply laughed, not believing a word she just said. “That? It’s not halloween you know.” You shake your head, and she rolls her eyes, showing her fangs instead.

“W-woah, it’s real?” You find yourself asking, and she couldn’t help but giggle a little, you sounded so innocent and like a kid, but she didn’t mind that. “Yes, you want to feel it?” Her tongue touches her fangs, showing you that it was indeed real and you had a sudden thought. Picking up the courage, you stick your tongue out, feeling her fangs over your tongue as you stare into her eyes, she watches you, her breath hitches a little at your sudden boldness. She takes control, taking your tongue in her mouth instead as she bops her head, the erotic view makes you clench your thighs together, your core throbbing with need. Pulling away, her piercing gaze finds yours. “I can smell it, your scent. You want this don’t you?” She teases, and you could only whimper in response.

You were lucky, she was impatient as well as she inches lower down to where your core was, spreading your legs open for her before she pushes your shorts down to your knees along with your panties, seeing how drenched you were already. “It’s all for me?” She blows against your core, and it makes you moan softly, bucking your hips. “Please..” Your hands in her hair as you push her closer to your core, she moans as she tastes you against her tongue, giving harsh licks against your clit, you moan louder, feeling the need to come already.

“D-don’t stop please!” You cry out, and she knows you’re close. She licks you even faster, her fangs pressing against your folds dangerously but you didn’t care, all you cared about was wanting to come. With one last lick on your clit, you came, shuddering hard. She moves up to you, her hands in your hair as she pulls you against her body. Sure, she did not know much about emotions, but she wanted to try for you, it was something she needed to understand, something she wanted to feel too, she guesses it has been too long since she ever felt this way with someone, but right now, everything felt right to her, she hoped you felt it too.

It comforted you, as she lets you come down from your high in her embrace. After a while of silence, you decided to start the conversation. “So..i want to know your name before anything else?” You sat up straighter this time, turning to face her. “My name is Gaeul, you can ask me anything.” She says, her fingers stroking at your scalp. You didn’t know why but it felt like you had known her a long time, even though you two just met minutes ago. “Actually..aren’t you..thirsty?” You suddenly got away from her, scared she would bite you suddenly and leave you dead in the bedroom. It makes you shiver, but she looked the opposite. “I am, and whatever you’re thinking right now, no you won’t be dead because..well..i want you.” You blinked at her a couple times, did you hear her right? She wanted you? A human, someone so simple? You couldn’t believe it.

“You want me? Like..together?” She nodded her head, and inched closer to you again, this time you didn’t retreat, but let her as she held your hands. “I can explain more later, but i just knew when i first saw you, i got to have you, if you would let me..that is?” She plays with your hands, her eyes looking into yours from time to time. Deep down, Gaeul was scared, she knew if you rejected her, she only had one option, but could she really do that? She didn’t know. “Let you? Like, i’m going to turn into a vampire?” You almost laughed at your own words, not believing this was actually happening but it was.

“Yes, so would you?” She asked again, and you frowned, thinking hard. Would you really want this? Be with her forever? Did you mind it? Would it make your life less boring? After some has passed, you found yourself nodding your head, agreeing to let her turn you into one, after all, you could see that future with her, maybe you wanted that too. Something different. You could see her eyes lighting up at your response, and she couldn’t be more happy. “A-are you sure? If you turn into one like me, you won’t be able to go out in the morning, you may not see your loved ones ever.” She furrows her brow, wanting you to know of all the things that will change in your life and you simply smiled. “My loved ones are not here anymore, and i don’t mind that.” You answered her and she grins, closing the gap between you two once again.

“Well then, i’m just going to bite at your shoulder, and you will feel a bit of pain okay?” She rubs the spot, and you nod your head, holding your breath. Not long after, you felt a stinging pain at your shoulder, it makes you whimper as she sucks at the skin there, drawing a bit of blood. Your visions starts to blur, and before you passed out, you heard her say, “Let’s go home now.”

[blessedwithabadomen]

in love with the mess - day seven

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : smut (fingering), fluff, overthinking, drinking

length : 5.8k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @somebodyels3 @kageyasma @spikeisdaddy

a/n : I struggled with getting this chapter out but here we finally go, hope you enjoy it!! leave me a reblog or a comment if you do 🥰

•••

day seven

The day off was badly needed, for everyone. For once, pretty much everyone was actually free, with Oli only having a single phone interview and Bad Omens’ calender being completely bare of responsibilities. As soon as we got to Newcastle, the day was fair game for everyone. Unfortunately, we were all currently still stuck on the busses.

All of the crew and most of the band was either gathered downstairs or had retreated to their bunks, so when I checked the upstairs lounge at the very back of the bus, I only found Oli. He looked up from his phone when I closed the door behind me. Dressed in what looked like the most comfortable sweater known to mankind and loose sweatpants, he looked incredibly soft. He must have seen the longing in my eyes because he threw his phone further down the couch without any hesitation and opened his arms to me. Maybe it was his way of checking if we were okay. I thought we were. Well, mostly.

I climbed into his lap, facing him, briefly reminiscent of two evenings ago, letting him hug me as I buried my face in his neck. His hands easily wandered under my hoodie, finding nothing but bare skin beneath it, warmly brushing against my back, my spine, as if he could make out the tattoo there still, even without seeing it.

“I just don’t want this to change, you know?”

“I think it’s a bit late, don’t you?” I chuckled. We definitely never used to cuddle like this, touch each other like this, allow each other’s hands to go these places. I felt him exhale into my hair. “We don’t have to… We can still be the same. Just Oli and Aubrey.”

His hands wandered to my hips, caressing the flesh there, inching up.

“We can just… do whatever feels good. We don’t have to be anything. It doesn’t have to be deeper than that.”

His touch was turning feather-light, along my ribs, upwards, every fingertip leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, leaving me to sigh in pleasure. His neck strained so he could press the tiniest kisses onto my neck.

I didn’t know who I was lying to more, him or myself. But it felt impossible to care when he was treating me like this.

“Let me apologise properly,” he whispered into my ear right as his hands found the curve of my breasts. I gasped quietly, finally lifting my head to put my mouth on his, a silent permission. When he removed his hands from the inside of my hoodie, I almost protested, but he made quick work of unzipping it and opening it just enough to get a good look. “Fucking gorgeous, doll.”

Then his mouth was on my nipple, fingers stimulating the other and I almost cried in relief of finally having him on me like this. I grasped onto the fabric of his sweater, one hand going to his neck and holding him as if I was terrified of not feeling his lips anymore, but he indulged me without complaints.

Nibbling at the flesh with his teeth, he waited until my nipple was fully hardened before switching to the other. A gentle lick was immediately followed by a vicious bite and I’d cried out before I could stop myself. Oli immediately retreated, but his hands kept kneading my breasts still.

“We’re still on the bus with everyone, love,” Oli scolded me but his smile told me he was enjoying it way too much. “I’d love to tell you to be loud, but I don’t think you want that kind of attention, do you now?”

I shook my head, quickly, brain turning to mush as he continued to touch me. The door to the rest of the bus was behind me, and minus the fact that my hoodie was unzipped, I was still fully dressed. Even if anyone were to burst in, we wouldn’t look too suspicious. Not yet, anyway.

“Think you can keep quiet for me?” Suddenly one of his hands landed on the waistband of my sweatpants. “Because I’d quite like to treat you some more.”

“Yes, please, Oli, I promise, I’ll be quiet, please,” I babbled, the words spilling out of me in desperation. He chuckled, satisfied, probably loving the way I became putty in his hands. I didn’t care. I’d been riled up since this tour had started and I’d not found a single moment to at least get myself off. He didn’t need to know but I’d be begging on my knees as long as he offered to help out with it.

Luckily, for me, he seemed to be aware of the time constraint (and the fact that we were in semi-public, technically) and took pity on me. In one swift movement, Oli’s hand vanished in my trousers and delicately traced along the line of my underwear. It was almost impossible to take, the slow teasing, the waiting. I was getting wetter with every passing second as the anticipation took hold of me.

Oli was gorgeous underneath me, eyes dark and hooded, his head dropped onto the backrest of the seat, his Adam’s apple moving with every swallow. He was easily enjoying this as much as I was. When his fingers finally brushed against my pussy through the soaking fabric of my panties, I buried my head into the side of his neck, desperate to make noises that I would only let him hear.

“Fuck, you’re a mess, doll,” he muttered, his low voice almost sending a shockwave through me. “So wet for me. You love this, don’t you? Love being teased like this, feeling my fingers all over you. Bet you want even more, right? Do you want more, Aubrey?”

“Oli, please,” I repeated, sounding even more pathetic than before as my hips started to move, trying to get any friction at all. He chuckled darkly into my ear.

“Stay quiet,” he hissed, once again, and then he was pushing my panties to the side and I almost cried out with how much need for him I felt in that moment. Then his fingers were on me, touching me in places I had only been dreaming about. His groan when he felt just how wet I was beneath his fingers was pure music to my ears.

It felt like lightning striking my body when he touched my clit, just the slightest stroke, a hint, a tease. His other hand gripped my hip to hold me in place, working against the way I wanted to move into him, get closer, get more. Then, his finger trailed down, painfully slowly, leaving me a blubbering mess as I begged for more, unable to make sense of my own words. When he pushed it into me, I had to bite down onto the fabric of his sweater to keep quiet.

“More, Oli,” I cried into his shoulder.

“Such a desperate little thing. Just put my finger in you and you already want another.” He was moving, in and out of my pussy, letting both of us hear just how wet I was in the quiet room as I kept biting back my moans. “I think you can take it. I think you can take a lot more than you think.” Without warning, he pushed another finger into me, rougher this time, making my walls squeeze around him, but so, so perfect. “I think I’m going to have fun testing your limits with you, don’t you think, doll?”

There was no option left to answer him in my brain. Not when his other hand moved from my hip and also disappeared in my panties, circling my clit, while he kept pumping his fingers into me, faster and faster and all I could do was gasp and cling onto him and shake under his treatment.

“Come for me, love, want to feel you fall apart on my fingers.”

I was practically riding him now, unable to keep my hips at bay as I needed more and more and more of his fingers inside of me, the touch on my clit getting heavier, my noises becoming louder without any way to stop them as I once again buried my head in the nape of his neck.

“Show me your face, doll. Show me how you fall apart.”

I stayed put. He didn’t get to see my face when I came. Not yet. Not now. I didn't owe him that, or an explanation.

The orgasm took me with force, leaving me trembling and moaning into him, squeezing his fingers as the ecstasy travelled through my body. I was feeling lightheaded, a floating sensation, a wet mess, my body had never been so alive. I cried his name, again and again, slowly riding it out until I tensed up as the sensations ebbed away, leaving me panting and oversensitive. Yet, when he pulled his hands away, I still felt cold and aching for his touch again.

I stayed in place for a little while longer, trying to catch my breath and make sense of the world around me again as the post-orgasmis bliss slowly lifted. Only when I was sure I could hold myself up without aid again did I move from where I had collapsed against Oli’s chest.

He looked ecstatic. Absolutely pleased with himself, almost gloating. Underneath me, where I was still sat in his lap, I could feel the way he’d grown hard. It was a tempting thought, delicious, really. After all, I’d gotten to see his cock up close before and I was dying to get it in my hands, in my mouth, in me. But he wasn’t going to get off that easily. Quite literally.

I lifted myself off him, getting my clothes back in order, zipping up my hoodie. I ignored the way I desperately needed to change my underwear.

“Good start in terms of apologising,” I grinned at him.

Then I turned around and left the room, feeling extremely pleased with myself and still tingling all over from finally getting some relief. His shouts of protests were easily ignored with a smile on my face.

•••

I found all of Bad Omens gathered in the lobby of the hotel we’d checked into. Only Nicholas had spotted me so far, giving me a welcoming smile, but not saying anything. It gave me the perfect opportunity to sneak up on Noah and pinch his sides as a way of greeting. He jumped with a tiny squeal, to the amusement of everyone around us.

“Sorry, love,” I apologised but only meant it a little. Then I turned to the rest of the band. “Mind if I steal him away for a little bit?”

My question was greeted with a chorus of not at all, please take him away from us and don’t bring him back too soon which Noah replied to with a couple of middle fingers. Still, he followed me away from them and as soon as it was just us, he gifted me the smile I wanted to see every day for the rest of my life.

“You got any plans today?” I asked, itching to touch him but unsure what the unwritten rules were about getting physically close in front of, well, everyone. I didn’t even know what he had told his bandmates. If he’d told them anything at all. He had been hanging around with me and Oli a lot. But maybe they were used to it. Maybe he could be the vanishing type sometimes.

“Not until dinner,” he grinned.

“Ever been to Forbidden Planet?”

“That sounds like a trick question somehow.”

Apparently, he was still on guard after my successful attempt at scaring him.

“It’s a retailer. They have a big store here in Newcastle. And it’ll make all your nerdiest dreams come true, promise.” I held my arm out to him, daring him to link himself in with me. “Date?”

Noah hesitated, barely visibly, but just a moment long enough for me to catch it. I scolded myself immediately. Couldn’t I have chosen literally any other way to phrase my question? Of course he wasn’t going to ignore the fact that I’d called it a date. Not when this whole thing between him and Oli and me was feeling a little bit normal again but still relied on so many unspoken things. He’d told me he was convinced he was a bad partner. I didn’t need to push him into any romantic antics.

Before I settled on a way to circumvent the situation, Noah had taken hold of himself, grabbed my arm, and looked right into my eyes, softly and honestly, and agreed. “Date.”

•••

The store was, in fact, Noah’s personal heaven. As soon as he had set eyes on it, he was like a little kid let loose in a toy store, walking the aisles at a snail’s pace and telling me all about his favourite and not-so-favourite franchises. I wasn’t going to lie, my nerdy knowledge was much more limited in comparison, but I listened and walked with him and let myself drown in the way his eyes sparkled at anything and everything. There was simply something so endearing about watching someone dive into their passions and sharing them with you, even if you didn’t understand all that much. It didn’t matter.

At some point, rather undetectedly, his hand had wandered into mine. I only noticed when he found yet another amazing collectible and tried to hand it to me and my right hand was already restricted. Suddenly, it felt like the world had stopped turning, just a little bit, just for a moment, before everything went back into hyperfocus and I took the toy from him with my left hand and didn’t catch a single word he was saying.

His hand. In mine. In public. I couldn’t grasp what was happening. I felt secure, fluttery, and nervous at the same time. He was holding onto me tightly, pulling me along. I was hoping my palms weren’t as sweaty as I feared they might be. Then his thumb started stroking mine and I just about passed away on the spot.

The moment was over much too soon. Noah let go when he found something that required both hands and I felt lost and whiny and it was embarrassing how much I had to bite my tongue so I wouldn’t beg him to put his hand back where it belonged.

Where it belonged. Was that it? It surely felt right it. My heart and the butterflies in my stomach were telling me so. Oh, I was in deep trouble.

Noah wandered away from me when he spotted the massive section of comics and mangas at the back and I left him to his own devices as he flicked through page after page before sorting some of them in a pile that I assumed he meant to buy. I went back through the section of little collectibles, trying desperately to ignore how many thoughts were still going through my head and how my hand still seemed to tingle where it had touched his.

I quickly made a little novelty purchase, stuffing it in my pockets before Noah would see, just moments before he joined me at the till with a stack full of comics that the cashier was only too happy to ring him up for. Armed with a bag full of his purchases, we left the store, slowly strolling down the street.

“You got plans tonight?” I asked, suddenly remembering him mentioning it earlier.

“Dinner with the lads. Like, everyone. Us and Bring Me. Do you want to come?”

“No,” I chuckled. “You go have your boys’ evening, I don’t need to intrude on that. Do you want to meet at the pub later though? Have a drink, a little chat, just get out for a bit?”

“Us and Oli?”

I studied Noah’s face for a second, trying to figure out if that was what he wanted or if he craved more time without him there, but I found nothing but excitement at the idea of getting together as a group again.

“Of course. Let him know at the dinner? You guys can text me when you’re done and we’ll meet up somewhere.”

He kissed the top of my head in confirmation.

•••

Being alone with my thoughts hadn’t been the greatest idea of the day. I had ordered a bit of room service, as a treat, but now I was left with nothing to do but get ready for later and ruminate about my life choices. If I’d been able to push my worries away before, spending time with Noah and him just going ahead and holding my hand had ruined all my plans of ignoring them further.

None of us had really talked about… anything. Oli had apologised for being a dick, but that had been absolutely unavoidable. His behaviour toward me hadn’t been acceptable and he knew. But the rest of it had remained unspoken. The kisses exchanged between us. The teasing. Oli and me crossing aboundary that had been in place for years now. Oli and Noah. I was sure they hadn’t discussed the night either.

What did it mean for either of us? For all of us.

I slumped back into the bed, still perfectly made by housekeeping.

In my head, I tried to start with Oli. The facts were the following: We’d been friends for a decade. I’d been crushing on him for probably just as long. Nothing had ever happened prior to this tour. Now he was flirty, pushing my limits, teasing me. I’d seen his cock (and fuck what a gorgeous cock that was). We’d kissed. He’d fingered me. But also: He was scared of intimacy. His last girlfriend had labelled him ‘emotionally unavailable’. He had tried to flee in the middle of the night. He didn’t talk about his feelings because ignoring them and lashing out was easier.

If only I had an idea what his intentions were. Or if he even knew himself. Because I wanted more of him, I wanted him in my life and in my bed, and even if I wasn’t quite sure in which capacity, I was aware that my feelings were making it harder and harder to bear the thought of losing him.

Noah. I’d only known him for a short while, but it already felt like a lifetime. There was so much I still had to learn about him but I was willing to spend whatever time necessary devoted to it. I wanted to know it all. Which was a problem considering he was also someone who kept to himself when it came to his thoughts. He’d shared little bits, but I could see there was so much more simmering under the surface. I knew he was scared of getting close to someone again. That accusations of being a bad boyfriend still plagued him. But then he kissed me and he held my hand and he made my heart flutter and that was pretty fucked up.

Was Noah someone who would sleep around? Get his kick, get his rebound from whatever he was or wasn’t over yet? It all felt so much more serious, but then he withdrew and I couldn’t quite tell anymore.

But what did I even want from him? I wanted to be close to him, yes. And I loved spending time with him. But where was this supposed to go?

And then there was this thing between the two of them on top of it. Oli constantly flirting with Noah. Noah blushing at everything. Oli and Noah kissing. Did any of us know what we were doing? Were any of us ever going to talk about it? Or would we just keep going, digging ourselves deeper into what we had gotten caught up in, until it swallowed us whole and spat us out, leaving us to come out on the other side better than ever or cut to the bone, shattered and ruined, with no point of return.

The latter was a nightmare scenario. And one I definitely didn’t want to experience. I was going to talk to them, tonight, I decided. Get whatever clarity we were willing to give each other. Whatever clarity we were able to give each other.

My eyes fell on my open suitcase, pieces of clothing spilling out.

Yes. I was going to talk to them. And I was going to look fabulous doing it.

•••

By the time Oli texted the groupchat with the name of a pub and an order for me to be there in 15, I had just finished applying my liquid lipstick. The red colour looked devilish on my mouth, in the very best way. I hadn’t bothered with the idea of eyeliner, convinced that my nerves would only cause me to mess it up completely.

Checking my outfit in the mirror one more time, I gave myself a nod of approval. The black velvet dress ended just above my knees where I showed just a little bit of flesh clad in see through tights before my heeled boots covered most of my calves. It was ever so slightly overdressed for drinks at the pub but it would serve its purpose.

I decided to walk, wrapped up tightly in my coat, to get some fresh air in the January cold and try to sort my head, but I arrived before I knew it and as soon as I had found the two of them sitting at a booth in the farthest corner from everyone else, I knew there was no point. I was going to have to wing it. Impossible to stick to any kind of plan as soon as I looked at them.

Both of them looked ridiculously handsome, relaxed from the day off, as if they didn't have a worry in the world. Noah was blushing slightly, again, but that could be the light, I concluded. They stared at me expectantly, Oli giving a low wolf whistle, Noah’s smirk more than self-serving, and I realised I had to decide where to go sit - they were on opposite benches, a table between them and questioning of who I would choose.

Somehow, this felt like more than just a seating choice and I didn't like it at all.

I realised that I was standing around looking as lost as I felt and ended up sliding in next to Oli.

“Guess I'm the favourite,” he grinned. Had he and Noah discussed this before?

“Maybe I just wanted a better view of Noah,” I bit back, causing Oli to gasp in mock offence as Noah grinned happily.

Suddenly, Noah's smile vanished and now he was definitely blushing. I felt some movement next to me from Oli, saw him shoot Noah a dangerous smirk. When it clicked, I was so fast in leaning down and putting my head under the table that I managed to catch him in the act. Not only had Oli toed his boot off, his foot was against Noah's knees, seemingly trying to push them apart. When I tried to come back up, I bumped into the underside of the table hard enough to make the drinks they had already gathered shake.

“That's what you get for being a nosy bitch,” Oli lectured, but his hand was already at my head  carefully feeling for an emerging bump. “You're a danger to yourself, you know that?”

“Not my fault you're horny again when I just wanted to talk to both of you,” I grumbled, pushing his hand away and rubbing the sore spot on my head. I really needed to take better care of it. That, and my heart.

“Is that why you came dressed like that?” Noah asked. I feared Oli was being a bad influence on him - he was growing more cheeky, at least when it came to me. I wasn't complaining though.

“Well, I thought I might still give you something to look at while I hold a monologue no one wants to hear.”

It was enough to sober up both of them immediately. My heart was beating a little too hard and I felt like suddenly I had no idea what I was going to say anymore. Quickly grabbing Oli’s glass, I downed the rest of his beer as if it would make any difference on such notice, but I could always pretend.

With another deep breath, I decided to just go for it and see what would come out of my mouth.

“I don’t want a day like yesterday ever again. I don’t want to panic about what I’ve done when all I did was follow my instincts of what felt right in the situation and both of you willingly participated and we still all felt like shit the next day because we never discussed boundaries and I don’t want anyone to lash out and I don’t want anyone to withdraw and I don’t want to get another headache trying to solve a puzzle that refuses to cooperate.” Oli and Noah both looked like deer that I’d just shot arrows at, frozen in place and just that little bit ashamed. “I know none us meant to hurt each other but we did and… I guess I just…”

I was losing my train of thought I knew it, walking the ever-thinning line between trying to speak my mind and still protecting myself and my feelings. I didn’t want to say too much, I didn’t want to corner anyone. I didn’t even know what I wanted myself, so I hid myself away by asking them instead.

“I guess I just wanted to know where we stand so none of us… none of us get hurt again.”

Noah was the first one who spoke up, staring intently at the contents of his glass as he talked. “I don’t think I have the capacity to commit to anything at the moment. I know my last relationship has been over for more than a year but I’m me and that’s what ruined it all last time and I don’t want to subject that to anyone.” Oli almost started to protest next to me, obviously not agreeing with Noah’s words, but my hand on his thigh calmed him down immediately. “I like being with you. And I like having fun with you. If we can agree on that.”

I wanted to tell him no. I wanted to tell him he didn’t get to hold my hand and care for me and be so sweet and then ask of me not to demand more. I wanted to push back on everything he had said, tell him that it was all bullshit and that he could be capable of so much more and did he really think we couldn’t see he wanted that?

But I didn’t.

Because I was a coward and I was selfish and I didn’t want to think about what all of this could mean for future me. I simply wanted Noah in any way he would allow me to have him, I’d take the crumbs if it was all on offer, even if it hurt. Because it was still better than not getting to have him at all, having to refrain from touching him, from kissing him. I simply wasn’t sure I could do it.

Oli coughed next to me. How long had we been silent after Noah’s words?

“Well, you know me,” Oli said in what I assumed was supposed to be a joking tone of voice. “Sucks as a boyfriend but always up for some fun.”

He bumped his knee into mine and then apparently kicked his foot against Noah’s, who gave him a bit of smile, but still seemed a little unsettled. Maybe because he’d just bared a bit of his soul, maybe because he was still unsure of how this would continue.

I put him out of his misery. Him and Oli both, probably. Grabbing one of Oli’s hands on the table and the reaching for Noah’s as well, who only just managed to pry it away from his cold glass, sending a shiver down my spine at the difference of temperature, I hoped I would seem genuine.

“Perfect,” I lied. “A bit of fun it is.”

•••

Noah wrapped me up in his arms as the three of us walked back to the hotel and I was torn between wanting to push him away because this was not the definition of fun we had agreed on and melting further into his embrace until it made it almost impossible to move just to have him close. Still, I allowed it.

We didn’t speak until we got back and then we ended up awkwardly lingering in the hallway in front of my room, as if all of us had an idea of what we wanted to do but none of us wanted to say it out loud.

“Do you want to come in for a moment? I have a present and- not like that, Oli, stop smirking. It’s stupid, it’s just something I picked up earlier today.”

They followed be into my room eagerly, even as I protested again that it was an actual present and not me in lingerie. It seemed to finally convince them when I started rummaging through my bag. A pair of hands was at my shoulders, shrugging my coat off me, and when I turned around and watched Noah put it on the coat rack next to theirs, their shoes taken off and tidily put underneath, my heart ached a bit for how domestic this scene was.

“This is pretty silly,” I admitted as I grabbed what I was looking for and sat down on the foot of the bed. “It's just because I overheard someone of the crew jokingly call us the Powerpuff Girls the other day and then I saw these keychain earlier and…”

I handed both of them their respective gifts, watching as their faces changed from confusion to utter amusement, both of them studying their new keychains.

“Buttercup,” Oli read out loud. “Personality ingredient: spice. Loves to get dirty, fights hard and plays rough. Does not plan and is all action.”

Noah had been trying desperately to hold in his laughter but towards the end of the description, both of us were a giggling mess.

“Yeah, you're laughing!” Oli complained. “Let's see what yours says!”

“Bubbles,” Noah announced when he had mostly gotten his voice under control. Oli barked out a laugh. “Personality ingredient: sugar. Seen as very kind and sweet but is also capable of extreme rage and can fight monsters just as well as her sisters can.”

Oli was still snickering to himself when NoahI grabbed onto the keychain I still had in my hand, eyes flying towards the description label. “Blossom. Personality ingredient: everything nice. Most level-headed and composed member of the group. Strong and determined. Exceptional leader, master strategist, apt planner.”

“Is that what you are?” Oli teased good-naturedly. “A strategist playing us like pawns?”

He didn't give me the chance to protest before he had pushed me back, climbing onto my now lying frame, a dangerous glint in his eye as he dragged me upwards, further onto the bed.

“Noo, not my boots on the blanket!”

Noah's hands were on my calves, carefully pulling down the zipper, taking the boots off, all the while caressing the flesh through the thin tights covering it. I was taken aback and thrown for a loop at the insane difference between Noah's soft hands and Oli's dominating nature.

“See?” I told Oli. “This is why you're spice and he's sugar!”

“And Miss ‘Everything Nice’ likes to have a bit of both, doesn't she?”

He wanted to kiss me, badly, I could see it on his eyes and in the way they flickered down to my lips, but he wasn't going to get away with having the upper hand again. With a rough push, I had turned us around, Oli now on his back as I climbed onto his middle. I knew fully well I had only managed this through the element of surprise - Oli would overpower me easily if he tried. Turning around a little, I waved Noah closer, who willingly climbed onto the mattress next to us.

So, instead of giving Oli what he wanted, I pulled Noah in for a searing kiss, all my anger about our situation, about him being the sweetest person that constantly led me to believe there could be more pouring into every single one of my movements as I buried my hands in his hair. Oli groaned in frustration but didn’t try to intervene. Not even when one of Noah’s hands trailed down my body, feeling along my neck, my breasts, my stomach, and ended on Oli’s. I let myself enjoy Noah’s lips for a moment longer, my whole being constantly craving him. When I finally pulled back for a breather, I saw that his hand was lazily playing with Oli’s shirt.

I grasped onto the fabric as well, roughly pulling him up into a sitting position. Noah’s hand fellt into Oli’s lap. He didn’t do anything, but he didn’t move it away either. I quickly attached my lips to Oli, who sighed into the kiss with a softness I hadn’t expected. It made me slow down, take more care of what I was doing and where my hands were, stroking his chest and ignoring how lovely it felt.

I let him go when I wasn’t sure my heart would take it anymore. When I slid off his lap, I made sure to shuffle closer to Noah.

“Kiss him,” I whispered in his ear. “Kiss him like you mean it.”

Noah hesitated for a moment. I figured that Oli had taken the lead last time, simply taking what he wanted the way he usually did, and there had been a significant amount of alcohol involved. Now all of us were mostly sober. It all seemed that little bit more serious.

Still. Noah leaned in, one hand remaining in Oli’s lap as if forgotten about, the other gently cradling Oli’s neck. Oli looked… ethereal. Completely lost in the sensation, even though Noah had barely done anything. His mouth was falling open, ever so slightly, his eyes darkening. It felt sinful to watch. Then Noah’s lips were on his and both of them sighed into the kiss as if it was the first time. They looked divine together. No teasing, no battle of dominance, no jokes. Just pure…

Pure what? I wasn’t so sure. I wasn’t sure if it mattered either. All I knew was that sugar, spice and everything nice were bound to wreck my heart and I would take it all.

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Thanks for doing this (modern!Aegon II Targaryen x reader, past Jason Lannister x reader)

synopsis: What are the odds of running into your ex at a random bar in King´s Landing on a random friday night? Well, apparently the odds are higher than you thought.

warnings: mentions of alcohol and drinking, Jason being a prick

word count: 1.8k

a/n: I am still working on requests and outlining my first series, but I wanted to put out something in the meantime. I´m sorry requests are taking so long. Any way, I hope y´all like this nonetheless. <3

What are the odds of running into your ex at a random bar in King´s Landing on a random friday night? Too many people to count in this goddamn city and you had to end up next to your ex- boyfriend, your ex-boyfriend who wasn’t even living in this goddamn city. How did he even get here?! You would have asked if you hadn’t wanted to avoid any form of conversation so badly. Looking the other way, you impatiently waited for the barkeeper to give you your drink so you could leave for the back of the bar, where you’d hopefully meet some of your friends. Unfortunately, you found yourself addressed in a posh voice only a moment later.

“What a pleasant coincidence to meet you here!” Jason Lannister had obviously recognized you and was now moving in for a kiss to each cheek.

You gave him an awkward smile. The two of you hadn’t had the healthiest of relationships, followed by a messy break-up, and you had sincerely hoped to never see Jason again when he moved back to Casterly rock.

Accordingly unenthusiastic was your reaction to his attempts at making small talk, which he didn’t seem to mind, placing a hand on your arm and going on about his vacation plans. He was in King´s landing on vacation, staying in some expensive hotel, for three weeks, one of which was already over, and considering prolonging his stay.

His breath was hitting your face, smelling of the cigarettes he’d already smoked when you’d been dating, making you shift away uncomfortably.

“No, we were not. You didn’t give a shit about my wishes and feelings.” You deadpanned.

“Some nights I wonder what would be if we had not split up. We were good together.” His hand had slipped from your arm to settle on your thigh. You grabbed it and put it back onto the counter.

“Don’t lie to me. I loved you.” He reached out to brush a strand of hair out of your face, causing you to flinch away.

Instead of taking the hint Jason softly stroked down your temple, letting his fingers linger at the bare skin of your neck above the thin strap of your dress.

Under other circumstances, had anyone else, any random stranger gotten this close to you and touched you like this, you’d told them to fuck off, and maybe even punched them in the face if necessary, but with Jason it was different. Too many memories were being washed up to the surface. Some pleasant, many not so much.

Memories of soft touches like these, growing harsher the more you became filled with lust.

Come on, get me off.

Of course I care about you.

Memories of the same hands that’d held onto you scrolling through a phone, eyes fixed on the screen more often than not.

Memories of words whispered into your ear after every fight, after every make-out-session, at the end of every rushed phone call.

I love you.

Abruptly, you grabbed Jason´s wrist and again pushed his hand onto the bars countertop.

“Stop that.” you insist harshly.

“Why? You’ve always liked it when I touched your neck.” Gods how you wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face.

“I don’t want you to touch me anymore, Jason. We’re done. We’ve been done for three years now, get a grip.”

“No. I’ve moved on.”

Jason leaned in again, smiling charmingly like a shark. “We could go again. You’ve gotten hotter.”

“Oh?” He raised his eyebrows. “And who is the lucky one?”

You opened your mouth to tell him that it was none of his business when a deep, smooth voice beat you to it.

The stranger leaned in for a hug, whispering into your ear. “You looked like you could use some help. Don’t worry, I got you.”

“Hey babe. Sorry, I’m late, Arryk almost burned down our kitchen.” Both Jason and you turned around to the speaker, a muscular, pale man with short hair of an even paler blonde than Jasons.

Aegon pulled back and turned towards Jason, keeping one of his hands resting protectively on the small of your back.

You felt like a stone had been lifted from your chest, may the seven bless this man. Smiling, you reciprocated the hug. “Hey, nuha jorrāelza. It’s alright.”

“Keep your hands off my girlfriend, will you.” It wasn’t a question.

“Jason Lannister.” He sounded like he had tasted something foul but couldn’t spit it out anymore, pointedly passing over Aegon’s challenge.

Jason looked the other up and down, taking in his bulk, obviously considering his chances in case the situation escalated. Jason was a bit taller than Aegon, but Aegon was decidedly more muscular and had an air of badass on him that Jason´s based-on-money confidence just couldn’t match.

“Aegon Targaryen. I’d say ‘pleasure to meet you’ but my mother taught me not to lie.” Aegon scowled.

You nodded, that was the perfect excuse to ditch your ex.

Then he directed his attention back to you. “The others are outside having a smoke, you wanna check in with them?”

“Bye, Jason.”

The chilly night air of King´s landing hit the two of you when you stepped outside, a welcome contrast to the stuffiness inside the bar. Aegon let go of your waist as soon as you were out of Jason´s sight, but kept up the protective demeanor.

“Are you alright? He didn’t do anything real bad, did he?”

“Don’t worry, no need to explain yourself. It happens.” He smiled at you, a warm glint in his lilac eyes.

You gave him a wry smile and a nod. “No, I’m fine. Thank you. I’m not normally that… helpless… That was my ex and… yeah…”

“What’s your name, by the way?” You felt your cheeks heat up. Right. You quickly tell him your name. “Alright. Do you wanna leave here? Want me to call you a cab or something?”

“No, actually, I’d like to go back inside. I’m not going to let that jackass of an ex-boyfriend ruin my friday night. Would you care to accompany me? In case he tries something again?”

He sounded genuinely concerned, it made your heart jump. If you were being saved from Jason by a kind, handsome stranger, you'd absolutely use the chance for a flirt. And maybe even more? You grinned.

Aegon gave you a look, then smiled. “Alright.”

Aegon nodded and offered you his arm, which you happily took. By now the bar had gotten fuller, people were filling up all of the booths along the walls and some had begun to dance in the free space towards the back.

“Do you want a drink?” You felt Aegon’s breath brush your ear as he leaned in so he’d be heard over the music. It was a nice sensation.

You shook your head though. “Later, let’s dance!”

“Thanks for doing this.” Your voice is so quiet it's barely audible over the music.

You were not only drop-dead gorgeous but also an amazing dancer as Aegon would soon realize. The two of you were moving perfectly in tune with the music, hips swaying, a wide grin on your face, and your eyes on Aegon. It was almost hypnotic, the mischievous spark in your gaze that pulled him in. Then the beat dropped and you broke out the raddest dance moves he’d ever seen in his life. You knew he was staring but he just couldn’t help himself. That was impressive. You obviously noticed, and laughed, raising an eyebrow and dancing up on him. Aegon shot you a smirk and a wink, leaning in and placing his hands on your hips. Your hands travelled up his arms, coming to a rest behind his neck.

His is as well. “Pleasure.”

Jason Lannister was annoyed. He’d been watching his ex and her new boyfriend dance for the last hour or so (don’t you even think about calling him pathetic!) and while he definitely wasn’t jealous, the two of them did seem to have an awful lot of fun together. They were alternating between ridiculous breakdance battles and basically dry-humping each other like horny teenagers, taking up the center of the dancefloor where people had formed a circle around them.

“Look me in the eye or otherwise we’ll have seven years of bad sex, don’t you know the saying?”

By the time the couple returned to the bar, Jason was sipping his fourth Solero, still watching them from across. The new guy had a hand resting on your lower back, holding you close, while you were laughing at something he’d said.

Picking up their drinks, they clinked glasses.

“Can’t risk that, can we?” they laughed at each other as they sipped their drinks. Your eyes were sparkling bright enough for Jason to notice from his spot, in a way they never had when the two of them had been together. Aegon was smiling like someone from a toothpaste commercial, teeth bright against his flushed skin. Jason rolled his eyes. He caught you shooting him a smug glance, then whispering to your boyfriend, who laughed and pulled you closer. You bit your lip, glancing down into your glass, and Jason knew that if he’d been closer, he would have been able to see the other’s blush.

When Aegon tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, Jason downed the rest of his drink and left. He should have gone on vacation to the Riverlands. Or Essos.

You stayed at the bar until long after your ex had left, talking about life and the world, and taking dance breaks again and again. It was the wee hours of the morning when you stood at the subway station, about to finally part ways.

“Thank you for helping me out, Egg.”

He smiled and pulled out his phone. “No problem, really. ‘Twas a pleasure. Can I have your number?”

“What?”

“Yes. Definitely.” The phone screen was putting a strange blueish lighting to your face as you saved your number into Aegon´s phone. You looked up and grinned.

“Huh?” Aegon felt his cheeks heat up from having been caught staring.

He went to take his phone from you, but ended up grabbing your hand instead. You were standing way too close. This is awkward, he thought, but didn’t let go.

He looked up to find you staring at him. At his lips, to be exact. Aegon swiped his tongue over them reflexively. “You know…”

Whatever he’d been about to say was cut off by a pair of soft lips being pressed to his. The kiss was warm and sweet, tasting slightly of the liquor you’d had earlier. Aegon used his free hand, the one that wasn’t still awkwardly holding yours and the phone, to pull you in a little closer, placing it gently at your waist. He could feel you smile against his lips before deepening the kiss.

When you pulled back, you were both slightly out of breath and smiling like idiots. A subway entered the station, making a whole bunch of noise.

You looked up. “That one’s mine.”

“I’ll try.” You grinned, stepping back. “Call me!”

Aegon nodded, biting his lower lip. “Get home safe.”

“I will!” He assures you and then the subway doors close behind you.

[nyctophiliq]

𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 — abby anderson

— “they messed you up but i can set you free.”

content warning/s — DARK CONTENT, female reader, mean/toxic jock gf! abby anderson, reader wears skirts/dresses, kinda deranged abby?, violence, manipulation, a door gets broken down, masochist/sadist duo, pre-established relationship, suggestive end

a/n — if you know you know, enjoy !!!! also there was just no way for me to not to use y/n in this, sorry.

“YOU CARVED OPEN MY HEART, CAN’T JUST LEAVE ME TO BLEED.”

there is hardly any air in your lungs, you can barely take a full breath as you run towards your dorm room. you want to take a peak over your shoulder so badly, but trying that would result in you tripping and her catching up to you, losing being ahead of her by only a few seconds. you shut the door behind yourself as quickly as you can, turning the lock even faster before sliding down the inside of your door.

“y/n!” BANG BANG BANG!

abby shouts angrily as she slams her fist against the wooden door, bending it from the hinges slightly before she takes a brand and tries to calm herself down. “open the door please, baby please open the door.” she rattles the handle, first with only one hand then two, clicking her tongue quietly when it doesn’t budge but abby is determined, trying again. “y/n can we not fight anymore please, can we not fight anymore?” her voice cracks, it’s forced, not that you can tell.

as you stand on the other side of the door, tears running down your cheeks as you listen to your girlfriend shouting, pleading, and trying to break down the door that is separating the two of you. this fight… you can’t remember how it started, just that it was about something important to abby and everything has been going downhill since then. 

“baby, sure you’re scared i’ve been there, i can set you free!” abby starts again, “i swear you will change your mind if you simply come with me tomorrow.” there is a few beats of silence, you can only hear your heart beating and her heavy breathing. “just.. baby, open the,” her voice cracks once again, she takes a deep breath and sighs out.

“open the door please, sweet girl please open the door. i promise this can all be fixed, just open the door.” she tries the handle once again, still nothing and now she is done playing the nice guy, if it won’t work then this will. “y/n, don’t make me come in there, i’m gonna count to three!” abby shouts once again, banging even harder on the door, splintering the side she as on. there is still no answer.

“one!” she stars counting down, “two!” she continues, hoping that you would get what she is suggesting but when there is no answer and the handle is not turning she has no choice. “fuck it!” she screams before kicking the handle, once, then twice, then a third time before it opens and you jump away.

the door opens abruptly, more like is broken down by abby, before shutting it close behind her, or rather just trying to but it will be needing a fix later, she couldn’t care about it tho. she stomps her way over to you, rolling her sleeves up on her arms, her eyes burning with rage as her combat boots hit the wooden flooring and making the room shake the slightest.

she stares at you for a second, without a word before crouching down next to you, taking your cheeks between her grip. her look frightens you and it takes you less than two seconds to collide with her, hug her, have her arms around you, and have her kiss the top of your head while you apologize profusely for ever becoming upset.

“it’s alright, baby.” she murmurs into your ear, a smile spreading over her lips as you sob into her shoulder, “good girl.”

and as you are under her like this, so vulnerable and pathetic, crying, begging for her forgiveness, she cannot stop her urges as she pulls away and pushes you up on the bed. abby’s mind is already there as the tears roll out of your eyes. “you were so stupid, weren’t you?” you nod as she talks, biting the inside of your cheeks as you try to hold back your sobs.

“we can- you can fix it… what do you think?” she asks, her hand gliding up your legs as she kneels between them. you nod, eagerly so. oh how pleased she was, all those stupid lies that the other student stuffed into your head in the morning long gone, only abby was on your mind and the things she wanted to do to you… you were a freak, just as deranged as her, aren’t you? “please, i want to fix it.” you say with your fragile voice, pulling a sickening grin on abby’s face as the hand from your thigh snakes around your throat and she leans down to kiss you.

she is rough, just as always, biting your bottom lip and sucking your tongue just to tease you, her knee between your legs and hitting it against your clothed cunt. not like you were gonna complain, you liked her being this cruel.

[scarletmultiverse]

your girlfriend is... | elizabeth olsen characters x reader

Hey people! New blog over here!

I've wanted to do something like this for a while, just with Lizzie's characters, because I feel like all my blogs always have pictures with them, but it's never enough...

Anyway, I'm starting here too and if you want to follow me on the other half inactive account, I think I'll write there again. @sawyercomfort is the user!

This is a preference that will kind of introduce the characters I'm going to write imagines about, so if you have any story suggestions, send me an ask!

Hope you like it!

----------------

your girlfriend is... wanda maximoff.

ok, we know that wanda is the sweetest of girlfriends.

she would literally move WORLDS (and multiverses) for you.

wanda certainly loves to pamper you in the best way.

occasionally she uses her abilities on you, but it's so rare because she's afraid she might hurt you by accident.

kisses and cuddles when you need them.

the fights between you are intense, but wanda loves you so much that it's impossible for her to really let you go all at once.

you are like best friends with each other, the ones you would trust with your life.

your girlfriend is... taylor sloane.

taylor is clearly a total dominatrix.

she LOVES the control she has over you.

to the point where she does drama to get what she wants.

but at the same time, she's a caring girlfriend and would probably drop any project just to pay attention to you.

she also likes to post pictures and show off your relationship to the world. She makes sure that the moments between you are always saved somewhere.

the fights between you are usually pretty hot too, and it's always the same reason: exaggerated jealousy and the pressure she puts on you.

but you always end up working out one way or another.

your girlfriend is... zooey kern.

personally, for me, zooey is the best on the list.

she may seem extremely laid back at first, but when you least expect it, she's capable of anything to surprise you.

and when I say anything, it means anything at all.

you guys love to drive around aimlessly, just enjoying the music on the radio and the ever-changing landscapes.

by the way, music is something that surprisingly involves your relationship almost completely.

zooey knows she can't fight you, but it's her instinct to be extremely overprotective of the things you do, and that can get pretty annoying.

your girlfriend is... jane banner.

you can expect jane to be controlling.

this is bad, but it's good at the same time.

in fact, she would equally move worlds for you.

including facing people who might treat you badly or criticize your relationship.

she is still a little afraid of losing you, because there were too many personal reasons for her to come to terms with who she was.

jane has her romantic side and makes a point of showing it to you when she feels like she needs it.

the fights between you are fervent and usually end up in a breakup or a night out.

but she always ends up admitting that she overreacted and promises that she won't raise her voice at you anymore, even if it seems impossible.

your girlfriend is... leigh shaw.

leigh has been through a lot to get here.

and she doesn't want that to happen again with you.

she has issues too strong to deal with alone, and you have become her safe haven since she appeared in your life

that's why she's sure you're the one.

leigh will do anything to make you feel loved, from sightseeing to places where you both have a story.

even cuddling in bed and secluding in your room.

a lot of music.

and you wouldn't dare fight with leigh, ever. she's too good for you, and you couldn't imagine a world where she wasn't by your side for your whole life.

hope you really enjoyed this short preference. just a note here, i don't know if i'm going to write about lizzie because i'm afraid i'm forcing something and that it might misunderstand me. but anyway, if you have requests with her, send them to me too, I can make an effort!

and if you feel comfortable, please specify the reader's gender in your request as well. there will be gender-neutral stories here, luckily!

thanks for reading!

(won’t be writing for candy as well, obv!)