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#my mind is still stuck in December
juicyyyboxxx · 1 year
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What if we just... didn't like 'em like that?
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redbullgirly · 2 months
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Can you do a Lewis Hamilton smau where she is basically like Barbie? I feel like since Barbie is a fashion icon and so is Lewis, it would be a match made in Heaven. I read your pinned post and tried to make a request based on your rules. Sorry if it isn’t good enough
HI BARBIE! HI KEN! [part 1, LH44 smau]
Lewis Hamilton x reader
Masterlist & Hi Barbie! Hi Ken! [part2, LH44 smau]
Summary: Lewis Hamilton is part-time Formula One driver and full-time fashion icon. And so is his girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N, who's also known as a real life Barbie.
Warnings: None... but a lot of pink XD. Also this story is set in December 2023, so no broken hearts over Lewis going to Ferrari... actually maybe just a little teaser.
Author's Note: Hi Anon! This request is great and thank you so much for it, it definitely is good enough! :) I had fun writing and creating this, even though at the end it's kind of different than what I firstly intended to do. The original idea was to make Y/N very Barbie coded, but at the end I'd say she's Barbie inspired and I focused more on the fashion icon part of the request. Though there's a sweet storyline about why her nickname is Barbie, so I hope you won't be disappointed! :)
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lewishamilton A lot happened in 2023 season and there was also a lot of outfits 🤞🏾✨
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user1 MY GOD THIS MAN IS BEAUTIFUL!
yourusername this was definitely one of my favs 💝
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lewishamilton What can I say... pink is the color of real men 🫶🏾
yourusername but do i still wear it the best?
lewishamilton Of course ma'am
user2 I love them sm 😭
user3 can we talk about the fact they're the best couple ever?!
user4 so sweet🥰
user5 And the fact she's literally the only person he interacts with in the comments...
user6 You are the best Lewis, can't wait for another season 👏
user7 🔥❤️
mercedesamgf1 Did someone say Barbie and Ken?💘
user8 YES
user9 admin you're so real for this... they literally ARE our barbie and ken 🤭
user10 The only question is who is the Barbie and who's the Ken? xd
user11 lol imagine barbie lewis💀
user12 GOAT ⬆️♥️
carmenmmundt Me and goergerussell63 when?
gourgerussell I don't really think pink is my colour...😬
yourusername don't worry honey, if he won't wear pink w you i will 😘
carmenmmundt Oh I knew why you're my favourite Y/N 😘
georgerussell63 No wait I changed my mind darling!!
carmenmmundt Hmm now I'll have to think about it 🤔
georgerussell63 Y/NNNNN
yourusername 😌😚
user13 i love how he always manages to get y/n into his posts
user14 The power boyfriend Lewis has over me😩😩
user15 RIGHT?!
user16 he's just so... asdgsagfsgd 😫
user17 I literally need this version of him to live!!!
user18 i'm weak for bf lewis🥵
user19 Y/N looks SO GOOD in that coat
user20 I need to know how she does it
user21 fr
user22 The best driver and a fashion icon... damn he's got some talent 🙇‍♂️
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yourusername great season and now it'll be even better winter break w my love 💋💞
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f1 Our own Barbie🤩
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user1 yeeeees
user2 Wait I'm new in formula one, why do we call Lewis Hamilton's gf Babrie??
user3 idk user2 she just gives off the energy 😆
user4 Actually I think Lewis himself once called her Barbie in an interview when there were rumors about them dating and then it just stuck with her 🤷‍♀️
user5 oh really?!! tbh i had idea he ever called he barbie himself... y/n is just iconic xd
user6 IT'S Y/N'S WORLD AND WE'RE JUST LIVING IN IT 🗣🗣
lewishamilton Can't wait to spend the winter break with you ✨
yourusername *mwah*
user7 pls I'm so excited for them!!
user8 the vacation photo dumps are gonna slay🤭
alexandrasaintmleux stoppp you're so pretty!🎀
yourusername nooo you are alex 🥹🫶
user9 they could never make me hate these two just 'cause they're dating the hottest drivers on the grid🫡
user10 The outfit in the second photo? HELLO?!
kellypiquet 🤍
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charles_leclerc I see you like the Monaco circuit very much👀
yourusername i see you're stalking my photo dumps very carefully charles leclerc 🤨
charles_leclerc Well I have a feeling we'll see each other more often soon so I have to get to know you better😉
this comment has been deleted by charles_leclerc
charles_leclerc Caught in the crime😂
user11 WHAT WAS THAT CHARLES?!
user12 omg I wasn't the only one to see it? I'm not delusional right?🫣
user13 idk what you saw 'cause i didn't but this interaction is so funny to me XD
user14 mommy- sorry... MOTHER
user15 ❣️❣️
user16 y/n & lew >>>>
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yourusername i'm barbie. he's just a ken (and he won some trophy for p3 in the championship... idk where it is) 💖💄
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user1 I live for Lewis leaving the trophy there💀
user2 and the way y/n basically confirmed this by saying she has no idea where it is😭
lewishamilton You're everything. I'm just Ken 🙏🏾✨
yourusername exactly... though you're the best ken ever 💞
sebastianvettel Isn't he more like Allan then?
yourusername ohhh true seb 🤭
user3 YOU WANNA TELL ME THE SEBASTIAN VETTEL SAW BARBIE
yourusername yeah we made him watch it and he cried during gloria's speech 💓
sebastianvettel I'm not ashamed about it.
yourusername and that's why i love u seb 🫶
user4 why aren't all men like sebastian???😩
user5 I love these three with all my heart y'all don't understand
user6 my fav driver watching my fav movie and crying during speech about feminism is my roman empire
user7 AAAHSDFHFGSDHSG😍
f1 If there was a prize for fashion icons, the Hamilton household would definetly win it! 🏆
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user8 not admin calling them hamilton household🥹
user9 Lol that would be the only fairly given trophy this year
user10 OMG I just realized that one day Y/N and Lewis WILL be both HAMILTON😭😭
user11 I'll tattoo the date of their wedding on my arm fr
user12 that's real dedication user11 💀
user13 TRUE DEFINITION OF A QUEEN... LOVE YOUUUUUU
kellypiquet Gorgeous darling!💖💖💖
yourusername we both babeee 💖🫶
user14 the IT wags casually supporting each other
user15 I love they're still friends even though their bfs are probably the biggest rivals xd
user16 not the shade about the trophy💀
user17 Waiiittt what happened?
user18 someone who was at the ceremony said lewis gave him the prize 'cause he didn't want it😭
user17 Oh and Y/N wrote in her caption she doesn't know where it is?
user18 exactly😭
user17 Whoops... I love her, she's queen for that
user19 and the fact fia tried to deny these rumors💀
user20 Absolutely love this look 🤍
user21 you and lew are just such a good looking couple
user22 THE DRESS I REPEAT THE DRESS🥰
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lewishamilton 🇲🇨 with the best company.
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roscoelovescoco Mom's look's so handsome's ☺️☀️
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lewishamilton Agreed
yourusername awww my boys are too sweet 🥹💕
user1 lewis complimenting his gf not w one but TWO accounts makes my heart melt
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user2 I want a man like him🤧
user3 WE LOVE ROSCOE CALLING HER MUM
user4 Lewis, Y/N & Roscoe are the best trio ever🥰
user5 parents and their son
user6 literally omg
yourusername wow who's that handsome boy laying on a couch 🥴😻
lewishamilton Handsome you say?😏
yourusername yeah, right next to u 🥰
lewishamilton Oh no, I should've seen that coming😒
roscoelovescoco Thank's mom's I'm handsome's boy's 😊👅
user7 these interactions give me the will to live
user8 I love the Hamilton family🥺
user9 lol y/n calling roscoe handsome xd
user10 The funniest part about this is that Lewis manages Roscoe's profile😭
user11 omg yes user10 not him playing being offended on his main and then being all sweet as roscoe...
user12 Love forever ❤️
user13 Y/N is so beautiful I can't believe my own eyes
user14 the two belong together forever 🙌🫶♾️💫
user15 fr
user16 If they ever break up I'll stop believing on love
mercedesamgf1 Mr. & Mrs. Mercedes
user17 pls give him decent car in 2024 to win another championship🙏
user18 The most iconic couple in history of motorsport 💅
user19 ❤️😍
user20 what's Ferrari doing in the likes?🤨
user21 lol calm down... he's literally lewis hamilton🤣
user22 No but it's weird... they never like other team's things
user23 and after the rumors during monaco gp too 🥸🥸
user24 I think this photo dump caused global warming... like daaammmnnn they're both so fine 🥵
user25 let's just say roscoe isn't the only one calling them mommy and daddy-
user26 lmao
user26 but true🫢
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yourusername barbie has a great day everyday... especially when she gets pink mercedes she wanted 🛍🤍
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lewishamilton Seems like Ken is good for something
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yourusername maybeeee
lewishamilton You want pink Ferrari too, don't you?
yourusername ☺️☺️
user1 ohhh to have a man like that
user2 OMG LEWIS PLS GET HER PINK FERRARI
user3 Yeah, Y/N will slay in that car😌
user4 i wanna be barbie too if she gets pink mercedes
user5 but first you'll need to have a ken like lewis hamilton
francisca.cgomes this barbie is so prettyyyy
yourusername love u! 💓
user6 Okay okay I NEED the bikini😫😍
user7 QUEEN
user8 Y/N looking gorgeous like always🫶🏼
user9 gold digger alert!!!!🤮
user10 Girl go away, you clearly know nothing about their relationship xd
user11 jealousy alert!!!
user12 the first pic does something to me 😩
user13 The most beautiful woman ever
user14 Lewis won lottery w her
user15 yes she's literally so pretty and they seem so happy together🥰
user16 fr I don't think I've seen him this happy before
user17 yeah he looks so much calmer and even younger when y/n is with him at event and gps...🥹
user18 Plus the OUTFITS?! I love them sm
user19 Where is Lewis 🙂?
user20 c'mmon he doesn't have to be in every post she makes🙄
user21 stunning as always 💘
user22 SLAYING AS ALWAYS
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Y/N’s interview
photo 1: Y/N: How did you and Lewis meet?
Y/F/N: Oh, you guys'll love the story!
photo 2: Y/N: It was actually in a toy store. Lew was there with his niece and I was there because... [laughs] Let's say I still like to collect dolls and lego, sue me.
photo 3: Y/N: Anyway, Lew's niece saw me, thought I'm a real life Barbie and wanted to say hi. [laughs] It was honestly so sweet that I didn't have the heart to tell her I'm just a normal girl.
photo 4: Y/F/N: So does she still think you're Barbie? [laughs]
Y/N: Yeah, I think so... She calls me Auntie Barbie! [laughs too]
photo 5: Y/N: But back to Lewis - I didn't recognize him and just thought he's really cute. We talked for few minutes, though then I had to leave and didn't have the courage to ask for his number.
photo 6: Y/N: But few days later he followed me on Instagram and I was just like - yes!
Lewis’ interview
Interviewer: Lewis, you recently followed a known influencer and model on Instagram. Is there something going on between the two of you?
Lewis: Are you talking about Barbie? Oh, shoot, sorry... [laughs] I mean Y/N?
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yourusername aesthetic life w the best man, cute son and lots of flowers 🌸💖
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roscoelovescoco I got's mom's the's flowers's 😊🌷
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yourusername thx roscoe baby!! 🫶 guess daddy will have to learn from you 😌🤍
user1 ... are we gonna talk about the fact y/n just called lewis daddy?
yourusername ... no please don't, you know what i meant 😭🙈
user2 Too late Y/N, the twitter girlies are going to go nuts about this (me included)
landonorris Awww look at that grumpy little dude 🥺
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pierregasly Mate are you calling the seven world time champion grumpy little dude?🤣
user3 lando tf-
user4 This is so funny for no reason😭
user5 Lewis being called grumpy little dude wasn't what I expected from this winter break tbh
landonorris ROSCOE
landonorris I WAS TALKING ABOUT ROSCOE GUYS
user6 💀💀
pierregasly Lol
yourusername why did you even think it was about lewis peirregasly ??🧐
landonorris YEAH MR. TRIPOD TELL US
pierregasly Goodbye...👋
user7 u and lew are so sweet
user8 MOTHER IS MOTHERING 😍
alexandrasaintmleux Shining like a star✨💖
yourusername and you're my sun ☀️💖
user9 I want a man who gives me so many flowers!!!
user10 yeah and they're beautiful and tasteful too
lewishamilton So lucky to have you darling! 🫧🫶🏾
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yourusername we're both so lucky lew 💗🫶
user11 and i'm lucky i was born in the same century as you so i can witness this love
user12 I LOVE Y/N & LEWIS🥰
user13 I'll ask again... When is he going to put a ring on it? 💍 C'mon Lewis you obviously love her sm
user14 Your guys love is so special ❤️
user15 if this is the content we'll be getting during winter break, i don't think i want it to end
user16 races are great... but boyfriend material lewis hamilton is better🤤
user17 REAL
THE END
Author's Note: Hi and thank you for reading! I'll be glad for likes, reblogs, comments, follows and any other ways of support. PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT PART 2! I really enjoyed this version of Lewis and Y/N... and perhaps I have a lot of pictures that unfortunately didn't make it to the story because picture limit isn't very friendly. Love you and have a great day! :)
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reiderwriter · 3 months
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Unhappy Holidays
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: You're unlucky enough to run into Spencer Reid at holiday celebrations four years in a row. In the New Year, you're resolving to rid him from your mind forever, but you never were one to stick to resolutions 👻🦃🎄🎆
Warnings: SMUT 18+ minors dni, enemies to lovers, low-key work rivals, semi-public sex, car sex, hate sex, fingering, thigh riding, creampie, unprotected sex (no condoms but contraceptive mentioned), slight spoilers for s4 of Criminal Minds (but not really).
Prompt Request: #50"You're so fucking obsessed with me.” #82"Really? Because your pussy is saying something different, sweetheart.” #93"Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”
A/N: This is my first submission for @imagining-in-the-margins November/December Office Party writing challenge! I'm sorry I've been so busy recently, but the holiday season really does take a lot of effort to get through at work lmao. Hopefully, I'll be able to post more over my vacation! For now, enjoy some very unserious smut~♡ (as if I write any other kind).
Here's a link to my masterlist, where you can find all my work!~☆
Working with the FBI was no walk in the park, which, from your desk at the opposite corner of the bullpen, Spencer Reid sure made it look like.
Working on adjacent teams for the last three years had become gradually infuriating. You were forever in the man's orbit, stuck dealing with the other women on your team sat giggling about him and his many stupid haircuts, and wondering just how far you'd fallen to have to stare at his stupid face 5 days a week.
If you were unlucky. His team did happen to be out on cases a lot more, whereas yours handled correspondence and consulting cases, a cushy and safe job.
It annoyed you to no end that you had multiple field-based qualifications, extensive fire arms training and were top of your class at the academy only to be relegated yo desk duty whilst boy wonder with his doctorates was allowed to trip over his own feet catching actual killers.
Other people wondered where your dislike of the man sprang from, and you could only let out a disgruntled squeak and tell them your horror stories.
A few months into your job, your been fresh faced and bushy tailed or however that saying goes, and overly eager to take any assignment that came your way. Even if the assignment was baby-sitting an injured Doctor Spencer Reid. He'd been shot whilst out on a case whilst trying to talk down an unsub, and you'd jumped at the chance to get to know him.
He was an office legend, of course, though those days it was more for his characteristic lack of social graces rather than the beauty he'd grown into. You'd been so eager to get to pick his brains, find out how he'd managed to score the position on the BAU at such an early age.
Reality had hit you square in the face when he'd spent a week ignoring you, making you run around like a headless chicken searching for hard copies of documents the FBI had digitised a millennia ago, and hadn't so much as spared you a glance.
The straw that broke the camel's back came as you were running back to him triumphant with a document he'd requested eight hours before and had let yourself into Penelope Garcia’s office quietly, only to hear him bad mouthing you.
“She makes me uncomfortable. I've had her out searching for useless files all day because I don't know what to do with her.”
“She's trying to help, Spencer, it's her job right now, cut her some slack.”
“Her job is currently getting in the way of mine. I even tried writing my own doctor's note so I could get rid of her, but Hotch wouldn't allow it.”
You'd dropped the file loudly on the table, watched the two spin around with horrified looks and turned silently and left the room.
He hadn't once tried to find you after that, and you let your apprenticeship under Doctor Reid quietly fizzle out as you got back to your regular work.
Your resentment still burned though.
Each time you'd been caught in the same elevator with him, you'd ignored him to an almost insane degree, enjoying the way he squirmed and tried to make small talk.
You'd been in contact with JJ and his Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner as well, through cases you'd recommended, but always maintained your cold shoulder.
The one place you could not ignore him, however, was a Penelope Garcia party.
After you'd slammed the file down on her desk, Penelope had guiltily sent you a gift basket filled with sweet treats and books, and had hounded you for a week to make sure your feelings weren't too damaged by her friend's stupidity.
You actually liked her, and found at least one silver lining to the storm that was Spencer Reid ripping through your life.
In the three years since the “incident,” you'd found yourself at three parties where Penelope in all of her heartwarming ways had tried her best to force a reconciliation between the two of you, to disastrous results.
The first was a Halloween party, and you'd been incredibly proud of your Princess Laia costume when you'd arrived. Only until you'd gone to the kitchen to top up your drink to hear Spencer Reid boring some guest or the other about how Star Trek was more advanced, and had a richer plot line.
Penelope had stepped into the kitchen just as he'd caught a glimpse of your (rather skimpy) outfit - yes, you'd chosen swimsuit Laia, yes, you were going to own it - and had immediately jumped into introductions, as if you weren't already intimately acquainted.
“Spencer! This is Y/N! She loves Halloween, too, she makes all of her costumes. You guys should talk.” She'd led the other guest away and left you there with Spencer as you'd awkwardly looked upon his own costume.
“Are you the Tenth Doctor?” You asked begrudgingly, noting his pin-striped suit and the shorter hairstyle he'd chosen.
“Are you a fan? I prefer the original show run more than the current stuff, but David Tennant has really been doing a wonderful-”
“I'm sorry, let me stop you there. I don't watch Doctor Who. I guess I prefer something with a… How should I say, richer plot?”
He'd snapped his mouth shut and didn't have chance to open it again before you turned dramatically and walked away from him.
The second party you'd been cornered into was just over a year later.
Having been stuck in the office over Halloween, Penelope was determined to get in one last celebration before Christmas steam-rolled every other holiday, and thus you'd been invited to her single-people-only-friendsgiving-potluck, and you'd found yourself having to navigate knocking on her door with a casserole dish in your hands.
Luckily a large hand had appeared from behind you and knocked on the door for you. Unfortunately, the sudden shock from the silent appearance of a man right behind you startled you so much that the dish fell straight from your hands anyway.
Penelope opened her door upon hearing the crash and you whirled on your would-be attacker.
It was Spencer again, eyes round in shock, hand still curled into a fist.
You took a calming breath as you gathered yourself, trying not to bite his head off. You wanted to scream and shout and rip his head out but you didn't, instead letting the fury drip into your voice as you finally opened your eyes again.
“That dish took me four fucking hours to make.” You huffed in anger once more as Penelope guided you into the apartment and poured you a glass of wine before you moved back to the entry hall to clean it up again.
Needless to say he didn't care to converse with you after that.
A few small parties in between had been blissfully Spencer-less and you'd lulled yourself into a false sense of security. That's when you accepted the Christmas party invitation.
As one of the unlucky few members of the FBI who had to stay out over christmas in case of some emergency or the other, you'd been grounded in Virginia, unable to travel home for the holidays. So Penelope Garcia's singles-only-Christmas-fun-time-Party was your last ditch effort to spend the holidays actually resting and eating good food.
Learning from last time, Penelope reassured you that there was no potluck, that she had prepared all the food herself, and all you'd need were a bottle of wine and a willingness to party.
You'd taken those recommendations as law and had immediately let yourself into a glass of mulled wine as you arrived, and - noticing that the party was Reid-free - had allowed it to raise your Christmas spirits slightly more than you usually would.
By hour two of the event, you were full of yuletide joy and swaying freely along to the tune of Silent Night.
Spencer’s late entrance really would have gone unnoticed by you had you not bumped face first into his chest as you spun yourself around in your dance, his hands quickly falling to your hips to steady you.
The few moments it took you to gather yourself were about as long as you needed to realised that he'd caught you in his arms underneath the mistletoe. And with your mind fogged by mulled-whatever-it-was-Penelope-mixed-into-that-punch, the part of your brain that objected to the very existence of Spencer Reid went silent, and the incredibly tiny and somewhat damaged part of your brain that instead saw him as attractive started shouting loud instructions.
Before your common sense could return, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss the very warm, very close man holding you upright.
“Mistletoe,” you muttered as you clawed his arms off of you and took yourself straight to Penelope's bathroom to throw up.
So yes, your acquaintance with Spencer Reid had never been good, and you were perfectly fine with resenting him from afar, privately.
With three years of bad experiences under your belt, you weren't excited at completing your yearly tradition of horrendous interaction. Which is perhaps why you immediately and loudly protested Penelope’s New Years Eve party invitation.
“Y/N, it's a party. What's the worst that can happen?” She pleaded as she followed you down the corridors of the office building.
“I could see Spencer Reid. I could be forced to converse with Spencer Reid. I could get absolutely wasted and kiss Spencer Reid. There, three options, please accept my resignation from partying.”
“Y/N we both know you don't drink anymore, so at least one of those is unlikely to happen. And Spencer might not even come, he has tickets for an indie theatre from 6pm onwards, they're playing some Russian movie from the 60s that's like 4 hours long or something. So u retire yourself and tell me you'll come?” She had to take three or four steps for each of your own, not that you were so different in height but because you were practically marching in order to avoid the topic.
But you finally stopped and let out a sigh as you turned back to Penelope who stopped just before she ran into you.
“You're sure he won't be there?”
“I'm sure he RSVP’d no.”
“Fine. But I'm not drinking and I will still be expecting the Penelope Garcia virgin punch experience.”
“Bring the party poppers and you have a deal.”
“Done.”
–X–
Over the week since you'd accepted the invitation, you'd made peace with it. For the most part, you did love a Penelope Garcia production. There was something wonderful about your friend and her ability to brighten anyone's mood, an ability that was only heightened at holidays. She was like a glittered goddess gaining power when worshippers used her altar, except the altar was her house and the worship was a range of hallmark-induced holidays.
You arrived at the party at 10pm, and though that was the start time you'd been given, you weren't surprised to see a full house of Penelope’s team mates already in attendance. Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss sat spread across the sofa in the living room area, and you noticed a few techie friends also grabbing drinks and chatting.
“Y/N, I'm so glad you're here! You remember everyone on the team, right?” She pulled you into a hug and then sat you down in the middle of the group, waiting for you to mingle and become comfortable before she ran off to more hostess duties.
“Of course, nice to see you guys.” You grabbed your promised punch and sat back comfortably, striking up a conversation with Emily about how bleak the dating scene had been recently.
“It seems like all the men around me are jackasses,” Emily muttered and you giggled along.
“I'm wounded,” Morgan shot back, a hand pressed to his chest in faux pain.
“Good. You're like a lion out there in the clubs stalking gazelles, it's like watching a nature documentary when you're out there.”
You almost snorted your entire drink up your nose as Emily finished, needing to compose yourself for a second.
“I guess the men on our team aren't great with romance,” JJ laughed and took a swing. “Hotch and Rossi have four divorces between them, and Derek here is a lost cause.”
“Our only hope is young Spencer. May he grow into a respectful young gentleman and break out curse,” Emily toasted.
“Oh that ship has sailed,” your laugh this time was bitter, your mood immediately growing sour with even the smallest mention of Spencer Reid.
“Ah, Penelope mentioned you had a problem with our boy wonder. Care to share?”
You opened your mouth to give your standard non-answer and move the conversation along, but you were interrupted.
“Yes, Y/N, care to share? I am slightly curious about that as well.” You turned around and there he was, and your stomach turned in disgust.
Just one time, just one party. You'd been having fun, and here he was to ruin it.
“What are you doing here?” you gaped up at him, unsurprised to see him still decked out in sweater vest and slacks even in his down time.
“I was invited.”
“You declined, Penelope said you had movie tickets.”
“Ticket, singular. And it was cancelled so here I am. What's your problem with me, Y/N?” His jaw clenched and he grabbed the back of your chair and leaned down. It was supposed to be intimidating, but you rolled your eyes. When he looked that attractive, veins in his arms popping out of the sleeves he'd pulled up, you couldn't see him as intimidating. His arms were distracting yes, but God that was nothing compared to his thighs. His pants were tight, and you thanked whatever Clueless tailor had sewn them, because you now allowed yourself a momentary lapse to enjoy the appearance of his lower body.
You tried to shake the thought of his attractiveness from your mind, reminding yourself where you were and in what company.
“I don't think I need to answer that. I think I'll enjoy holding it over your head instead,” you said, standing up and beginning to gather your things.
“Wait, Y/N, where are you going? New Year isn't for another 30 minutes.” Penelope scrambled over and grabbed your hand, pleading with you to stay.
“I'm sorry Pen, but there's just this very annoying bug buzzing around me, and I think I need to get away from it.” You said your goodbyes and excused yourself from the party, happy to have walked away relatively undamaged.
Fate had other plans, and as you stepped out of the apartment building ready to walk yourself home, a hand caught yours from behind as a voice chased you.
“Y/N, wait. I'll go. You go back inside.”
“And return with my tail tucked between my legs after making a grand exit? I'll pass, thanks boy genius.” You shook yourself from his grasp and made to walk away again, but he quickly matched your pace and stepped into your path, cutting you off.
“I can't let you walk home. It's like 40° out here, and your coat is more style than substance.”
“Get into a car with a stranger? I'm sure you of all people know how stupid that sounds.” You stuck a finger out and poked his chest, but he grabbed your hand and held it in place as he spat out his next words.
“I'm not a stranger, I'm the man you're obsessed with, Y/N. Big difference.” You laughed, mostly in shock at his indignance, but he stared at your face as serious as could be.
“Me? Obsessed with you? I'm not the one who followed a woman they're barely acquainted with out of a party filled with all of my friends. Sounds like you're projecting, Spencer.”
“Am I?” He questioned, stepping closer and grabbing your hip as he continued his questioning. “I wasn't the one who was sat there talking about me with all of my colleagues.”
“Well, I wasn't the one who turned up to a party I'd declined an invitation to.”
He was imperceptibly close now, hand gripping your hip so tight you wondered if it'd leave you with a mark.
“I certainly was not the one who initiated a kiss last year, Y/N. You need to face the facts, you're so fucking obsessed with me.” If his hands had you feeling dizzy, his words were completely knocking the sense out of you. Suddenly you returned to the person you'd been under that Mistletoe, and everything from his closeness to the rough edge to his voice begged you to do it once again.
“Go fuck yourself,” was about all the words you could manage as he finally let his lips fall down and crush into your own.
You should've pushed him away, but instead your traitorous body wanted to prove his point, opening up for him faster than you'd opened up to anyone else before.
His tongue flicked against your lips and you gladly let him explore your mouth, opening up to tangle your tongue with his.
He tasted sweet, like the punch Penelope had handed you earlier, only now you wondered if someone had accidentally laced it with how free you were being with your affections.
He resurfaced for air, but you didn't care if there was nothing in your lungs at all if it meant that his lips would engage your own in battle once again.
“Look how much you want me,” he smirked. “Look how needy you are after a single kiss, chasing my lips like that.”
“You and your big fucking mouth. I wish you'd shut up once in a while.”
“I'll make it my new year’s resolution.” His lips joined your own again, and you clashed hard, exploring as much as you could muster as he pulled you in the direction of his car.
“I'm not driving… home… with you,” you growled between kisses, trying not to put your teeth to his neck and bite down hard. You're not sure if that impulse was a murderous one or a kinky one.
“I'm not putting you in the front seat, Y/N, I'm putting you in the back. You should be familiar with the idea.”
Heat sparked between your legs, and you allowed yourself to be manhandled into the beat-up trash heap of a car.
He'd not taken his hands off you as he got you in, pushing himself in first and then pulling you by the hand that you'd unconsciously gripped hard. You immediately straddled his hips, skirt naturally riding up in the process. He noticed and looked curiously down at you, growling as you pressed your lips against his neck and grabbed you instead by the hair gathered in a ponytail at the back of your head.
“See, you're obsessed with me. Just admit it.” Without breaking eye contact, he dug his fingers into the material of your tights and pulled in opposite directions, leaving your underwear exposed to his wandering eyes.
“I'm not obsessed with you,” your voice needed conviction to land, but it came out as a lusty whisper, especially as he slipped his fingers inside your underwear and finally touched your aching cunt.
“Really? Because your pussy is saying something else, Princess.” He found your clit faster than you'd ever expected, rubbing slow circles into your skin as you began rocking your hips back and forth.
It was becoming hard to disagree with him, with each flick of wrist growing the heat between your legs. You attacked his neck again, hands practically ripping at his top buttons so you could muffle the sounds of your arousal against his neck, collarbone, chest, any stretch of that pale skin available to you.
He forced your hips to a stop with one hand as he slipped a single digit inside of your hole, gathering your arousal as he set a steady pace, thumb keeping your bundle of nerves occupied.
“Listen, Y/N, can you hear that?”
“I can't h-hear anything.” You had to grind your teeth together to get the words out with minimal interruptions of moans bursting from the pit of your stomach.
He leaned in close to your ear, nuzzling your neck and placing chaste kisses up towards your ear, finally pulling away just enough to whisper a single word in your ear.
“Liar.”
His hand stilled and pulled off you quickly and your eyes broke open, hands unconsciously fitting into his shirt as if you were worried he was going to leave you there like this, on the edge of pleasure but still so far away.
“Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”
“Jackass. You've only been here for like 20 minutes.”
“You can climb right out of this car if you want to, Y/N.” He tried to keep his tone light, but the death grip he had on your thighs, the very obvious tent pitched in his pants and the way his eyes couldn't go five seconds without undressing you told you you had more power in this interaction than he wanted to give you.
There was no way either of you were letting the other go unused tonight.
You relaxed your grip on his shirt and shifted your weight to one of his thighs. Lithe he may be, but lowering yourself down there was an unexpected strength there. He watched on curiously as you rocked experimentally against him. Back and forth you rocked, trying desperately to keep up his momentum or tempt him to help you out again.
It was time to let your voice back out, and you did, moaning without a care as you hummed his leg like a bitch in heat.
“You're enjoying this lot, huh, Y/N,” he muttered, and you watched as his hand worked his pants zip open, removing one of the barriers in the way between the two of you, as he began palming himself.
“What's that saying? Anything you can do, I can do better?” He growled at that response but didn't stop you. Instead he bought a hand down on your ass as you moved, so hard you jolted at the sudden pain. Your eyes shot open as your hips stilled, but you felt warmth grow between your legs.
“Yes, you definitely enjoyed that. Should I do that again, or do you think we should hurry this up and go back up for the countdown?”
You hesitated only a second before you pushed his hand off his lap, shifting your hips further towards his knees before letting your hand reach for where his had just been.
You didn't let yourself think about how big he was as you pulled his cock free, didn't let yourself wonder how he measured up against anyone you'd been with before. You didn't let yourself waste time thinking about how various office rumours were true, and definitely not a second was wasted feeling jealous about how those rumours were spread in the first place.
Instead you simply slammed your lips back against his, mouth opening to let your tongue engage his as you lifted your hips with his help and lowered yourself down on him.
You didn't have to rid yourself of sinful thoughts after that as he purged every single brain cell from your head, filling you so contently that there was simply no space for anything but him.
You locked up on top of him, clawing at his shoulders as you whimpered at the stretched, falling so he was balls deep inside you. You wanted to move, to use him for your pleasure, but your walls tightened every time you even thought about it as he stroked your hair through it all.
It had been some time since you'd last had a sexual partner, and you needed the few minutes to overcome the first uncomfortable bliss of it all.
“That good?” he whispered, but the harsh tone of earlier was gone, replaced only by unsure humour to break the silence.
“Been a while.” He nodded, kissing you again to distraction as he shifted your positions.
Cradling your neck and securing your legs comfortably around him, he lowered you against the backseat, pulling out slightly as you adjusted to the new angle.
“Better?” You nodded quickly, because it was. There was no more pressure on your legs, and despite the cramped space in the car, you had enough space to lie almost flat.
“Yes… thank you.” Just as his cutting tone had escaped him, you also heard your own tone softening, the sigh of contentment slipping past your lips almost sweet. Almost.
“Are you going to fuck me now, or what?”
He let out a shocked laugh, but lent down to shut you up with a kiss nonetheless. Bracing himself against the car door, his hips softly rocked into you, pace increasing until you were back to the edge of cumming, nails pressed hard into his skin until you were sure he was going to complain.
He didn't though, but kept up his thrusts, until your vision suddenly darkened and stars exploded in them, rolled back in your head as they were.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit, where should I…?” He panicked, but you wrapped your legs around him, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him down to swallow his moan as he shot his load inside of you.
“Birth control.” You whispered when you finally let him go, gasping for air. “Contraceptive pill. No need to get the car dirty.”
He collapsed on top of you then, forehead resting against your own as you both caught your breaths.
The moment was silent, and you found the synchronicity of your breaths almost calming. Eventually you had to break apart, and he helped you up to a sitting position, but didn't break eye contact as fell back into his lap.
His hands stroked your back, dipping to your ass at times, but he didn't talk. Neither of you did.
The eye contact between the two of you was possibly the most pleasant conversation you'd ever had.
“I'm sorry.” He blurted, just as fireworks erupted into the night sky. Your heart shook, and you weren't sure of it was the shock of the sound, or the way the rainbow of lights illuminated his sincere expression.
“You don't have to apologise for cumming in me, Spencer.”
“Not that. Before. The casserole and the mistletoe, and the Halloween costume.”
“Wow. Um, okay. Apology accepted, I guess, though I'm not entirely sure why you're apologising now.”
He took a deep breath just as another set of fireworks went up.
“I pulled you under the mistletoe. It was Penelope’s idea, she knew how stupid I was being around you and sent me over. I saw it and took the chance.”
“Fuck. Why?”
“Because I was pretty useless at being chivalrous the year before.”
You climbed off his lap in a scramble and sat on the seat beside him, mind racing, trying to figure out where the hell he was going with this.
He turned to you, trying to keep your attention as he stumbled over the words.
“You couldn't knock on the door, so I wanted to help you, but I didn't think I'd scare you so much you'd drop it.”
“You didn't scare me it was a momentary lapse in my observational skills.”
“You shrieked,” a smile threatened to pull his lips up, they twitched as you flushed red.
“And Halloween?” You looked at him again now, trying to figure out what the hell was going on between the two of you.
“You refused to look at me for a year after we stopped working together,” he shrugged quickly running a hand through his hair and expelling a breath. “I don’t really know how to talk to women.”
“You just know how to piss them off?”
“Morgan says it comes naturally.”
“Yeah, well, Morgan is very wise.”
A brief silence stretched between you, or as silent as a night full of cracks, pops, whizzes and bangs could be.
“I don't get it. You tried your best to get rid of me when I was there to help you. I wanted to impress you, and you kept sending me on meaningless errands, and now you're saying what? You wanted my attention?” There was a quiet anger to your voice, but you were surprised to find it diminished and tired.
“I wanted you gone because you were distracting me, Y/N, not because I hated you.”
“Well, what's the difference, Doctor Reid? Please indulge me.” You huffed a little but kept your eyes on him, trying not to seem too desperate for his answer.
“I have an IQ of 187. Emily says when I'm around a pretty girl it's more like 52,” he fidgeted with his pants, forcing the words out.
“You're a pretty girl. We had a case to work and all I could think about was how to get you to like me. Hotch chewed me out like three separate times for being absent minded.”
He was looking anywhere but you, trying his best not to appear like a fool but you were locked onto him.
“Oh my god you're an idiot.”
“When you're around, yes.”
“And that means I'm equally stupid.”
“No, you just jump to conclusions and hold grudges. There wasn't anything really that stupid about your actions, though it could be suggested that not thoroughly thinking through the wording of the conversation you overheard-”
You cut him off with a kiss, pulling him down again mlby his tie.
“Oh my god, shut up,” you whispered as you broke apart.
“Does that mean we can do this again? Because I'd like to do this again?”
“Stop talking, start kissing jackass.”
He finally didn't argue with that, pulling you back into him as you sat under the stars in his car welcoming the new year.
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thehighladywrites · 4 months
Text
I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater…
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Pairing: azriel x reader, the ic, lucien and elain, and helion mentioned
Summary: angst, no happy ending for him, a bit ooc azriel bc he’s an absolute ass in this. also I can’t make elain the villain bc I love her. bittersweet ending, cassian and feyre being the most wonderul people ever. some swearing, like a tiiiiiny nsfw scene, like it barely counts, but i’ll warn you anyways.
Author’s note: yeah, this was inspired by heather, so definitely listen to it while reading💔 i just think this was the perfect day👀 never again am i writing angst, plus i might have been a bit dramatic when said this was gut-wrenching, i don’t think this was very angsty, just a bit tragic. but i hate angst so any angst is gut-wrenching in my eyes🤷🏽‍♀️ also there’s no revenge better than rising above…
Word count: 6,5 k words
If you see any grammar errors or spelling mistakes, no you didn’t ❤️
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"Y/n, I practically hear your teeth chattering. Here, wear this." Azriel removed his sweater, passing it to you with a hint of concern in his eyes. You bit the inside of your lip to keep from smiling, he was always so thoughtful and observant. It was on of the reasons you fell in love with him.
"It's okay, Az, you'll freeze." You attempted to return the warm clothes, but he firmly pushed them back, fixing you with a stare that left no argument.
"I won't freeze. You know I'm used to this weather. Bet you miss your old home right about now." He alluded to your home court, The Day Court where the sun always shines, and standing on the balcony on a crisp December morning doesn't make your fingers feel like they'll fall off.
You arrived in Velaris to assist with document translations, given your expertise. Your services were in high demand across various courts. And initially, a month-long stay extended to two, then three. Eventually, enchanted by Velaris and its people, you asked Helion if you could make it your permanent home. The support of your friends added to the whole experience.
You slid into Azriel's warm sweater, feeling its comforting embrace. The fabric whispered tales of comfort and safety, an unspoken promise against the biting cold. As you adjusted to the newfound warmth, your heart felt a different heat—one that spoke against the unspoken feelings you had towards him. The subtle scent of his cologne lingered, intertwining with the softness of the fabric, creating a scent that seemed to make your heart flutter twice as hard. In that moment, you couldn't help but let the warmth of the sweater mirror the warmth within you.
“ Feel better?” You nodded, avoiding his eyes in fear that he’d be able to see the emotions portrayed on your face.
“ Thanks, Az. For the sweater and all. It’s really warm.”
The corner of his lips twitched as his eyes remained on you, “Keep it. It looks better on you than it ever did me anyways.”
He grabbed your hand before you could respond and walked back in, closing the balcony doors. Stuck between friends and something more, you felt lost. Wanting to confess your feelings to Azriel but scared it could mess things up, you were torn. The shared laughs felt like good friends, but those lingering looks sparked a longing for more. Balancing this act, you wrestled with risking the friendship for a shot at something deeper. In the middle of all this, you were standing there, not sure which way to go.
As you hesitated walking further with him, Azriel noticed you stopped walking and furrowed his brow. "Hey, what's up?" he asked, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.
You wanted to tell Azriel how you felt, but doubts held you back. As you looked at him, the sweater felt heavy with unsaid words. You wondered if it's better to say what's on your mind or keep it to yourself. Fear answered for you as you shook your head and gave him a reassuring smile.
——————
Later that day, during dinner, Azriel asked you to meet him in the upstairs library while your friends were distracted, to which you accepted, head spinning at the possibilities.
In the quiet sanctuary of the library, the air thick with unreadable energy, Azriel's eyes met yours. Without a word, he closed the distance and gently pressed his lips to yours, a silent acceptance of the feelings that had lingered in the unspoken spaces between you. The unexpected kiss marked a sweet transition between friendship and the uncharted territory of something more.
——————
For over a year, you and Azriel kept things under wraps, not really calling it a relationship. It was a secret, a kind of unspoken understanding. The stolen moments and shared looks formed the backbone of whatever it was between you. You regularly fell in each other’s beds and spent intimate moments together. There was however one specific night you’d always cherish.
You were in his bed, cuddling after he gave you yet another amazing time. Your legs were h thrown over his hips as you occasionally kissed his plushy lips. He held you tighter and ran his hand under your sweater. His eyes were lidded as he whispered intimately,
“ This sweater looks so fucking good on you, please never take it off. I’ve never given anything to another woman, but there’s something special about you. I love it when you wear it, like a reminder that you’re mine. No one else will wear it.” He pulled you closer and kissed your neck and collarbones. His hot breath made yours hitch as he fondled with your stiffened nipples.
Your attempt to come up with a response faltered as he brushed over another sensitive area, prompting a moan to escape your lips.
————————————
But as time passed, the lack of clarity started to wear on you. The hidden nature of it all was both a source of comfort and frustration. You yearned for more, a real relationship, a label to put on what you had with Azriel.
But with the war and Feyre's sisters entering the scene, everything got complicated. Your attention got scattered, and the chaos made the unspoken thing with Azriel less of a priority for a while.
————————————
After the traumatic and bloody war, you tried to seek Azriel for comfort, but he busied himself with Elain. His focus seemed to be on her, making it hard to find a moment to reconnect. The situation left you feeling unsure about where things stood between you two.
As the days went by, you noticed Elain entering Azriel's world completely, capturing his attention in a way that left you filled with jealousy and pit growing in your stomach. Her presence became a subtle intrusion, and the shared moments that were once exclusively yours now seemed to be scattered between you and her. The laughter and conversations, once intimate, now carried a different tone, a rushed tone to hurry away to Elain. A pang of jealousy crept into your heart, and the undefined nature of your connection with Azriel began to feel more fragile. The fear of losing him to someone else tugged at your emotions, leaving you questioning the unspoken relationship you had shared for so long.
You couldn’t even blame him. Elain was a sight for sore eyes, a beautiful girl with an even more beautiful soul. She had only treated you with kindness, giving you thoughtfull Solstice gifts and advice when needed.
You couldn’t justifiably be mad at her.
You’d pick her over you too.
—————————
Maybe you should just face your problems head on and ask him for some advice to break the newfound ice. His grunts were heard as he punched cassians face, getting some blood on his knuckles. Approaching him in the training pit, you hoped he wouldn’t dismiss you. “ Hey, Az, can we talk?”
Looking at you with an unreadable expression, he sharply replied, “Yeah, sure, quick. What's up?”
You tentatively asked, noticing his mood, “ Um, you wanna go for a walk? I haven’t seen you for a while. Also, we’re supposed to meet tonight, are you still up for it?”
He glanced around, eyes searching for an out, “Can it wait? I've got something I need to take care of.”
You felt dismissed as he didn’t even address what you mentioned and used whatever power you had left and asked, “ I just thought-“
"Look, I'll catch up with you later, alright? But yeah, I guess i’ll meet you tonight." After Azriel quickly walked off, you felt a sting from his unintentional rudeness. He had been acting like this for a while now and they way he hurriedly accepted your offer was making you feel like a second choice. But why? You did want to meet him and he did say yes, so why in the mother’s name did this feel so…?
Trying to shake it off, you found a quiet spot to gather your thoughts. Doubts crept in, making you wonder if his abrupt exit meant something more. Left alone with unanswered questions, you thought about having a straightforward talk about where you stand in his life.
“Hey, you okay? What was that about?” Cassian’s tone was so gentle and inviting and it almost made you spill everything right there, but he already had his own issues and problems with Nesta so you didn’t want to burden him further.
"It was nothing. I, uh, I'll see you later, Cas." You hastily departed, your eyes stinging with impending tears.
————————————
He was late. Again. This had happened seceral times before and despite agreeing to see him tonight, his prolonged absence weighed on you. Feeling a bit pathetic, you rose from your armchair and slipped under the covers, opting for a deep, dreamless sleep.
————————————
As war flashbacks filled your mind, and a suffocating panic took hold in the middle of the night, leaving you sweating. You threw of your sheets, gasping as you made your way to door. Desperate, you rushed to find Azriel, your heart beating louder than the echoing footsteps in the quiet hallways. You hoped to find comfort, a break from your horrors, as you hurried along.
Turning a corner, the world shattered around you. Azriel and Elain stood in an embrace, lost in a kiss that felt like a thousand daggers piercing your chest. The air in your lungs disappeared , replaced by a crushing weight that threatened to swallow you whole. Time was lost as you grappled with the horrible realization that the sanctuary you sought was crumbling before your eyes.
Your Azriel wasn’t yours anymore.
Your Azriel wasn’t ever truly yours, a taunting voice spewed in your head
Quietly, your broken heart mirrored the shattered moonlight, pain etched into you, stranded in heartbreak's silent hallway where quiet screamed louder than war's echoes.
He had chosen to be with Elain even though he promised you he’d see you.
———————————
Your heart was in your throat as you went downstairs for breakfast. The memory of Azriel shoving his tounge down Elains throat was still so fresh and it made something in you ache.
The dining room buzzed with the voices of friends and family as you dropped into a chair between Feyre and Lucien, saving space for more seats in front of you. Glancing to the right from your plate, you noticed Lucien, as he cut into his eggs. Oddly, you hadn't known he was back, despite being good friends. Ever since he learned about his father, he'd been curious about your old home in the day court, where his father ruled. You two became fast friends, and you promised to take him on an exclusive trip there anytime he wanted.
“ Hey, Lucien. How was your trip and when did you come back, I didn’t hear you enter yesterday.”
Yeah because you probably cried yourself to sleep, maybe that’s why.
He flashed his charming smile, tilting his head with playful eyes. "Missed me, Y/n?" he teased, laughing as you playfully punched his arm. Only he would crack jokes so early in the morning.
Deciding to tease him back, you couldn't resist digging into the details of his trip to the continent. You never got tired of his adventures, loving how he narrated them with grace and humor, making you feel like you were right there with him.
"Yeah, so what if I missed you? I enjoy having you around, Luc. But seriously, spill. Did you take down any monsters? Save any damsels in distress?"
Lucien chuckled, leaning in with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, I did fight off a swarm of overeager pigeons. Does that count as saving the day or just a triumph against feathery creatures?" he quipped, his laughter infectious.
You howled at the thought of a flock of birds surrounding your friend, pecking at him while he irritatingly tries to remove them.
The room fell silent as Azriel walked in with Elain, and your laughter faded.
A mix of hot and cold flashes hit you as you saw Elain wearing your sweater.
The sweater Azriel gave you a year ago—the one that meant a lot to you.
The one you had grown to love and was a reminder of what could be.
The one that cemented your feelings for him.
He gave it to Elain.
The one he was kissing last night.
The one he swapped you with and then got irritated when you tried to approach him.
The one who was mated to the seething male next to you.
The weight of everyone's stares bore down on you as Elain and Azriel took their seats in front of you and Lucien. Feyre and Cassian's eyes felt like lasers on the side of your head as you couldn't look away from your sweater now worn by Elain. Confusion gnawed at you – you'd tossed it into the laundry basket, yet there she was, flaunting it. The fact that Azriel didn't seem to care only added to the bewilderment, even when he knew what it meant to you. Irritation sparked in you as you got ready to chew him out, because who the hell wears something that doesn’t belong to them. And maybe Elain didn’t know but Azriel sure as hell did and you had enough of whatever bullshit this was. But before you were able to speak up, Feyre beat you to it.
“Elain, where did you get that sweater? I’m pretty sure it’s y/n’s.” Everyone looked back at Elain as red colored her cheeks, she meekly looked at you as she sputtered her explanation.
“ I hope it’s okay y/n, I didn’t know it was yours. I was in the laundry room with Azriel and I got… Well I, I um, got dirty, so he handed me this shirt and told me it was okay but I should’ve asked. Do you want it back?”
Numbness was all you could describe what you felt like. There was no way to miss the insinuation. They fucked and he gave her your sweater to wear after. And she didn’t even know it was yours, so you didn’t blame her. You found a new level of respect for Lucien, because you weren’t even mated to Azriel and you felt all this pain. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how he felt.
Not having the energy for this you gave her a sweet smile and said something that made Azriel’s eyes stay on you the rest of the meal.
“No worries, Elain. The shirt means nothing to me. Keep it. It looks better on you than it ever did on me, anyway.”
You casually picked up your fork, trying to eat away the tension that lingered in the air. Throughout the meal, Lucien remained tense next to you, his mate leaning against the shadowsinger, his arm around her. The gesture practically shouting that he didn't care about Elain's mate sitting across from him, much to Rhysand's dismay.
"Lucien, I'm full. Do you want to accompany me to town? There are a few things I need to get, and I could use some help carrying them." You extended your hand, and he took it, ever the gentleman, placing it so you held onto his arm with a smile.
————————————
Reaching the pathway to the town square, the open nature felt like a breath of fresh air. Despite you and Lucien being able to winnow, a walk through the cold December morning seemed necessary to clear your head. Glancing at Lucien, you sensed a shared need for clarity. Unable to contain it any longer, you decided to spill everything, the weight of unspoken words demanding release.
“I’ll be honest, I suspected something along those lines. I mean you weren’t being subtle about it. But the sweater threw me off.”
“Oh, I suppose our subtlety is not relevant anymore. Lucien, I just want you to know how much I appreciate you and hold you in high regard. Feel free to share anything; I'm here to listen. I can't even fathom how hard it must be when you're mated.”
His sad laughter echoed, tugging at your heartstrings, confirming that it wasn't an easy situation. As he opened up, every word he shared made perfect sense, resonating with what you were feeling.
After wandering around The Rainbow, sipping hot chocolates, and sharing your thoughts, you headed home. However, upon your return to The House, you were greeted by a pacing and visibly upset Azriel. Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked at Lucien who looked just as confused as you. Azriels pacing came to a halt as he quickly made his way over to you.
“ Where have you been? I looked for you everywhere. Why where you out with him?” Hot fury coarsed through your veins as you snapped at his tone. Just who the hell did he think he was?
“Where I am and who I'm with isn't your concern. Now excuse me, I'm going to my room. Lucien, I'll see you around. Thank you for your help.” You stood on your toes, giving Lucien a kiss on the cheek, and then briskly walked to your room, leaving Azriel with his thoughts. Though he certainly didn’t think very long as his footsteps inched closer behind you.
Azriel stood before you with a tense expression. “Why were you with Lucien?” he demanded, his eyes searching for answers.
As much as you missed him and ached for him, there wasn’t a single planet where you’d let him disrespect you and then demand answers like some jealous boyfriend. Anger took over as you stood tall and laid everything for him.
“Listen, I don’t know what you think you’re doing but you can’t talk to me like that. Lucien is a good male, you should know, your fucking his mate and he hasn’t murdered you yet.”
His face was back to it’s neutral state, the state of the shadowsinger and spymaster of the night court. He stepped closer, jaw tight as he spewed words that made your blood boil.
“I don’t want to see you around Lucien again. I don’t care that you’re friends because it looks like you want to fuck him. You belong to me and I don’t share.”
The possessiveness normally would’ve turned you on as it once did when a male tried to hit on you a few months ago. But this just made you want to punch him clean across his face.
“Azriel, I’m not sure you’re hearing me. I may see whoever I want because you’re not my father or mate or anything. And I’m not a thing, I do not belong to you so I will do whatever pleases me.” You stepped closer, interrupting whatever he was about to say.
“Unless you’re actually disturbed, then you’re capable of understanding that you’ve chosen Elain, you’ve neglected me and have chosen her. I don’t blame you, the heart wants what it wants. But atleast grow a pair and say it to my fucking face. How dare you come to me and demand I stop seeing my friend?”
“ Y/n, let me just-”
“ No, i’m saying what I’m going to say then me and you never have to talk unless it’s absolutely necessary.” The last bit of anger you had, fired up the question you had been asking yourself for a while.
“Why did you give her my sweater when you said you’d never give it to anyone. Why would you ever give her what’s mine? From my laundry basket? Are you truly heartless or just plain stupid? And why do you care about what im doing? You’ve made it clear we’re over.” You swallowed back your tears, determination winning over the burning behind your eyes, no fucking way would you cry in front of him.
His words devoid of any sense of emotion rattled you. He ignored everything you said as he gave his stupid answer.
“First of all, it’s just polyester. You’re acting like a child over a shirt. And you’re my mate, so I think I get some say in who you see.” As if his words triggered something, an obnoxious golden thread snapped itse in your chest. The weight of it heavy with sadness and betrayal.
He looked bored and uninterested as he stared you down. “I’ve always wanted a mated and when you first arrived, the bond snapped into place, hence why I fucked you for over a year. And I almost told you about it but then Elain came along and I realized I love her more than I want a mate. You know, The Mother is cruel, she should’ve just made me and her mates so we could’ve skipped this ugly little moment. Oh well-”
A grunt escapes as he staggered back from your punch. That arrogant, hypocritical piece of shit knew you were his mate, he knew it every single time he bedded you, he knew it when you cried and laughed, he knew it when you told him how much you wanted one.
He knew and he didn’t care.
A whirlwind of emotions hit you as the bond intensified. A headache crept in as you turned away and left in silence, your head filling with questions.
How could you face him without the urge to punch again? Did Elain know all this? Did anyone? How could you stay here without wanting to kill him? And why was your face wet?
You halted, a trembling hand reaching for your face. Tears flowed, and a humorless, empty laugh escaped you. You hurried back to your room, sobs breaking through. Collapsing onto the bed, waves of sadness, heartbreak, and betrayal overwhelmed you.
————————————
You stayed in your room, wallowing in self-pity for the next few days without eating or seeing anyone. The House put several plates of food on the table next to you but you just felt nauseous. Your friends had reached out and tried to talk to you only to be met with your silence, it speaking loud enough for them to understand you didn’t want to see anyone.
A knock made you snap your head up as the person persisted. Irritation sparked in you as the knocks kept up. Letting out a sound of annoyance you got up, letting your legs get adjusted from the days of not using them, before strutting over and throwing the door open only to be met with by Cassian and Feyre.
“ Oh, what are you doing here, I think I’ve made myself very clear. I’m really not inte the mood for this.” You sensed an intervention and there couldn’t possibly be a worse time. They ignored you, much to your dismay, and just stepped in and plopped down on one of the plush sofas that decorated your room.
“ Y/n, we haven’t seen you for almost a week. I’ve accepted you don’t want to see anyone but i’m starting to get really worried. Please know that whatever’s burdening you doesn’t have to weigh on your shoulders alone. We’re here for you and if you don’t want to talk to us then maybe Azriel? I know you like each other and have some connection.” Your stomach dropped when she mentioned his name.
"No, absolutely not Azriel. I never want to see that lying son of a bitch ever." They appeared alarmed and confused since you always spoke highly of him. Feyre and Cassian were the only ones aware of the true nature of your relationship with him. They had supported you, and were the only ones shocked about the sweater Elain wore, knowing its significance to you.
"What do you mean? What did he do?" They rose to give you a hug, noticing your eyes glossing over. Sitting on either side of you, they held you as you poured out the details. In the safety of your friends’ embrace, you told the painful details of Azriel's betrayal. The room echoed with the weight of your emotions as they listened, offering comfort and understanding.
"I feel so stupid. I know he's my mate, but I still feel betrayed. He made it clear we were just sleeping together, but there were so many mixed signals, and I just... I don't know. I have no anger left; I honestly don't care anymore. And I know it's not Elain's fault because she doesn't know we're mates, but I'm afraid I'll hurt her if I see her near Azriel. Gods, I really admire Lucien. I wonder how he's gone this long without breaking down." You shook your head as you looked to them. Their expression was laced with sadness and anger towards the spymaster.
“ I’ll kick his ass today at training, I’m so sorry honey.” Cassian was filled with conflict and anger at his dear friend being put through this. And Feyre didn’t look better as she glared at the door as if Azriel might suddenly appear. They were finally both mated and could imagine the pain of their mate doing something like this.
“ Y/n, do you want to come with me and stay at the River House? Maybe some time away from him will do you good. Lucien is also staying there and he has been down lately too. I’ve talked to him and your situations are very similar. Maybe you should talk to him.” Feyre held your hand, her voice gentle as she gave you a smile when you nodded, accepting the offer.
Cassian walked over to your closet and packed you a bag of clothes while Feyre led you to your vanity and brushed through your hair. She pulled it into one of the simpler styles you usually went for. You went onto the bathroom and took a quick shower. Cassian knocked softly and handed you a change of clothes. You felt an overwhelming gratitude for your friends caring nature as tears welled up in your eyes. They approached with laughter, and it sparked a genuine smile from you. Gods, you loved your friends.
—————————
Azriel flew back to The House after spending the day with Elain and dropping her off outside the River House. Though he loved Elain, she hadn’t reciprocated his feelings and it grated his nerves. He threw away a perfectly good mate. She should be loving him back too. As he entered The House, the unusual silence struck him. Cassian and Nesta’s typical noise was absent, and the absence of any sound from you heightened his worry. Azriel anxiously opened doors and searched every corner, looking for any sign of anyone.
He remembered that it was Sunday, the day of their usual family dinner. He let out a sigh of relief and changed before flying to the estate.
————————————
Your wineglass paused mid-air as Azriel walked in, placing a kiss on Elain's shoulder. She glanced at Lucien, subtly distancing herself. Despite her evident discomfort, Azriel nonchalantly put his arm around her. You felt bad for Elain. Maybe she wasn’t feeling Azriel anymore but didn’t have the heart to tell him.
A snarl ripped you from your thoughts as Lucien stood up looking murderous. Elain looked up at him with a hint of relief as Azriel simply pulled her closer and stared at him, face unreadable.
“Get your arm off her before I kill you.” Luciens voice came out gritted and you instinctively moved away a bit, not daring to get too close to the seething male witnessing his mate feel uncomfortable. Lucien was a levelheaded male and it took a lot for him to get really angry, so anyone with half a brain knew not to tread to closely. Rhysand next to him, stood up aswell, sensing that there probably would be a fight, ready to intervene.
“You’re going to kill me? I’d like to see you try.”
That was definitely the wrong thing to say because Elain frowned and pushed his arm away, making her way over to Lucien, calming him down by grabbing his hand shyly. He still held eye contact with Azriel, slightly smiling as Azriel grew angry.
“Don’t lay your hands on her again. If i ever see you making her uncomfortable, I’ll hang you with your own insides.” Elain looked at him with wide eyes and dragged him further down the table.
“Okay, what the actual fuck? What is going on and why are you looking at y/n like that?” Rhysand’s voice broke whatever trance was going on. Your interest peaked as your eyes slid over to Azriel’s only to find them filled with his usual boredom mixed with anger.
You let out a laugh, not being able to stop as you thought about how ridiculous he was being.
“ Well, let’s see. Azriel is my mate and he kept it hidden from me since the day I met him. Oh, and we fucked around for a year or so before he became a dick and started ignoring me, stopped coming to our planned meetings and I finally understood it was because of Elain. But I don’t blame her, I blame him. Hmm… what else? Right! He knew about us being mated and wished he was mated to her instead, and look how that turned out. The one you left me for doesn’t even want you anymore Azriel, how does that make you feel, mate?”
You bit out the last words with poison as you gave him a half smirk. Elain approached you, as everyone soaked up the information. She held your hands in her shaking ones and looked at you with a pained expression.
“ Y/n, please believe me, I didn’t know you two were seeing each other, let alone were mates. He told me you were just friends and nothing more. Had I known, I wouldn’t have ever been with him. And if i’m honest I thought i wanted to be with him, but I want to get to know my mate.” Before she could ramble on you pulled her into a hug, feeling bad for her. She hadn’t know and still apologized.
“Elain, I assure you, I don't hold any blame towards you. I'm happy you want to get to know Lucien. Trust me, he's genuinely funny and nice when he's not being a sarcastic ass.” Laughter filled the air as you and Elain shared a moment, lightening the mood.
You let her go as she got closer to Lucien. No matter how much you wanted to seek your mate out for comfort, you couldn’t let it happen. You knew there was only one thing left.
“ Azriel, I reject the bond. I don’t know how I can ever be with you after this. Not only did you lie to me, you lied to everyone. I’m never going to trust you completely and I think we need to work on ourselves. But it won’t be with each other.” With that you turned on your heel and left for your room, leaving behind a shattered bond and pleading a mate.
———————————————
Azriel's three-month-long begging for a second chance haunted you, likely triggered by witnessing Elain and Lucien's kiss in the courtyard. While you were happy for them, a lingering sadness stayed you, realizing you would never experience a shared bond. Azriel had robbed you of the beauty of a mating bond, and forgiveness felt out of the question. Suffocated by him, you made your way to Feyre and Rhysand's office, ready to ask the dreaded question that had lingered within you for a while.
“ Come in!” Feyre’s gentle voice probed you to open the door as you slithered in. They both looked at you with caution. After breaking the bond, you had been bedridden for three weeks. The physical and mental toll it took on you was overwhelming and some days you questioned your decision. But then you remembered what led you here and just powered through.
“ Guys, I promise I feel much better, so please no more mother-henning. Especially you Rhys.” Feyre let out an amused giggle as Rhys just narrowed his eyes in mock irritation. The weight of what you had to say hung heavy on your shoulders, but you knew they'd support you. Opting for honesty, you decided to rip off the bandaid.
“ I want to move back to the Day Court. I love it here but I miss my home, my siblings, my parents, my friends. I wasn’t supposed to stay this long and even though I love velaris, I can’t live here so close to… him. Not only that but I’ve been sending letters to Helion and he is very eager to meet Lucien and has asked me to check if he wants to come.” You decided to drop the last bomb, asking them for a huge favor.
“I also wanted to see if you could erase my memories of Azriel. Not everything, just the whole fiasco. I genuinely want to move on, and I feel like I won't be able to if I keep dwelling on it. Believe me, I've tried to avoid him and the situation for the past months, but the thoughts still linger.”
They were silent for a moment, likely speaking to each other through their mind. You met their saddened eyes as they nodded.
“I'm sorry you feel this way, Y/n. I genuinely wanted you to feel at home here, but of course we won't force you to stay. We'll erase the memories, but only if you promise to visit someday. Perhaps even let us come to you? I've heard the Day Court's sun is not to be played with, almost rivaling the Summer Court.” You giggled and nodded at Rhysand's words, tears streaming down your face – a mix of happiness and sadness. Overwhelmed with emotions, you embraced them as they gave you a big hug, one of the last you realized.
————————————
You surveyed your now empty room, memories of passionate moments and heartfelt kisses with Azriel lingering in the air. It felt like a distant past, a different life, a different version of you. Shouldering your bag, you descended the stairs. Rhysand had winnowed all your belongings back to your old quarters in Helion's palace. Lucien and Elain, already packed, awaited you at the breakfast table. It was time to share one last meal as residents of this house.
After announcing the news, Lucien and Elain asked if they could join you, insisting on the top-class tour of the court you had promised him. Delighted, you agreed, more than happy to bring your friends along as you all headed back home.
The table was filled with your friends as you shared one last meal, Azriel's seat empty as he was out on a mission. Unable to face him in fear of lingering emotions, you insisted on leaving while he was away.
Feyre stood at the head of the table, a mix of emotions visible in her eyes. She cleared her throat, capturing everyone's attention.
“Today marks the beginning of a new chapter for Y/n, Lucien, and Elain. Though farewells are always bittersweet, we must embrace change and growth. Y/n, you've been a cherished member of our court and a life-long friend, and while your path diverges, our bonds remain unbroken. Never forget that you will always have a home here.”
She smiled warmly, addressing each one individually, “Lucien, my first and dear fae friend, Elain, my kind older sister, your presence has brought joy to our home. The Day Court awaits, and I have no doubt that your light will shine brightly there.”
She raised her glass, “To new beginnings, may your paths be lit by the stars that connect us all. Safe travels, my friends.”
The room echoed with the clinking of glasses, a heartfelt farewell lingering in the air.
————————————
After tearful goodbyes, Feyre and Rhysand exchanged a glance, understanding the weight of your request. Pulling you aside, Feyre spoke softly, “Are you ready for this?"
You nodded, feeling Rhysand place a gentle hand on your forehead as Feyre held the back of your head. Together, they wove their magic, erasing the memories of Azriel and the pain attached to them. As the magic settled, you blinked, a new easiness in your eyes.
Rhys offered a reassuring smile, “May this bring you peace on your journey, Y/n.” You gave them a final hug, walking back to Lucien and Elain and winnowed back to your home.
—————
TWO YEARS LATER
At Helion's annual grand ball, you moved through the crowd, the vibrant atmosphere alive with laughter and music. You glanced around as you spotted your friends.
Approaching your dear friends, you hugged and greeted all of your friends, updating them about your life as you heared the uptade of theirs. Then, unexpectedly, you found yourself face to face with Azriel. His expression revealed a mix of confusion and curiosity. This was the first time you had met him simce you moved. Your friends told you that he was often gone on long missions, only staying briefly to report to Feyre and Rhysand before heading back out. Unbeknownst to you, your friends had slowly decreased their conversations and meetings with Azriel and he was now more of an employee than a friend. They loved both of you but there was no way to just let him back in as a dear friend after what he did.
“Hi, Azriel. It’s been a while. How’s everything going?”
He nodded, "Indeed. I must admit, I'm surprised to see you here."
You chuckled, “Really? I mean it is my home after all. Why is it shocking?”
Azriel furrowed his brows, "I thought... after everything, you hated me."
Your eyes widened in confusion, “Hate? I don’t know what you mean, Azriel. Why would I hate you? You’re a dear friend of mine.”
Realization dawned in Azriel's eyes, “Your memories...” But before he could continue, Rhysand pulled him away.
Azriel's realization hit him hard. The weight of the moment pressed upon him, and he felt a deep sense of remorse. Seeing you free from the memories, both good and bad, brought a profound ache.
He swallowed hard, the truth settling heavily in his chest. He had caused so much pain that you chose to erase him from your mind. A sickness crept over him, the regret of his actions piercing through as he watched you move through the ball, blissfully unaware of the history you once shared. Surrounded by the festive atmosphere, he felt a deep loss and the haunting echo of an irreversible mistake.
You looked happier and healthier than you had ever been. Deciding to not disturb the peace you created, he simply disappeared into his shadows, seeking out their comfort as he always had.
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latetaektalk · 6 months
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love to hate you | jjk [vii, preview]
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“when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.”
— genre: sexual themes, angst, fluff, fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, rich kid! AU, enemies to lovers! AU
— pairing: jungkook x female reader
— word count: estimated 100k for the series, 1618 for this preview
— warnings: none for this preview
— playlist: to be added
— a/n: hi. im here to deliver a new chapter and banner for my favourite two idiots. im thankful to everyone for waiting so incredibly patiently and being so nice. i hope this snippet can satisfy you guys until the actual chapter drops (10k+ so far) !! oh and for anyone who might have forgotten the timeline of the story, the characters are stuck in December!!
— find it here
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“Is everyone going home for Christmas?” Namjoon asked, wiping his mouth before grabbing his glass of wine, holding it up to his lips, speaking into it. “I know Kook is for sure.”
Jungkook nodded. “Got me there.”
And even without looking at him, you knew he was smiling and more than excited to go back home. He squeezed your hand, and you could tell he did so unconsciously. You squeezed back, happy for him that he was happy.
“Oh, right, I’ve been meaning to ask!” Jimin gasped, turning rather dramatically towards you. You blinked, unsure of what was about to spill from his lips.
“Is it true that you’re going back home with Kook, Y/N?” 
What?
Everyone turned to you, Chaeyoung raising her brow at you because were you? You stared back at her, mouth opened and closing because no, right? You weren’t, or were you? Your eyes lifted to Jungkook, and he had that same look on his face. Neither of you knew what to say or do. This wasn’t something you had discussed. And why would you have? It’d be ridiculous to assume that you’d be going back home with Jungkook to meet his parents for Christmas.
“Uh-?”
“I’m just asking because Kook’s parents have been asking me if I knew if he’s actually gonna bring you,” Jimin continued, shrugging. And maybe you would have focused on how much you wanted to strangle him right now and needed him to shut up if your mind wasn’t reeling from the fact that Jungkook seemed to have not only told his parents about your existence but also that you would be spending Christmas with them.
What?
“Okay, yeah, no, wait,” Jungkook interjected, a clear panic in his voice, turning fully to you. “I can explain.”
You blankly stared at him, unable to even make a single sound. He dug a hand through his hair, looking even more panicked the longer you said nothing.
“So, uh, my brother saw my posts and stories online and might have told my parents… that I’m dating you. And so they’ve been really curious and asking about you a lot, and it was a little annoying, so I just told them that I might bring you around for Christmas to shut them up. But—” He held out his hand as if to get ahead of you saying anything. “—I didn’t promise them anything. I just said it to get them off my back, you know?”
You continued staring at him, unsure of how to react or what to say because well, you hadn’t thought that either of your parents were ever going to get involved in any shape or form. You hadn’t even played with the idea of telling your parents. And why would you? All of this was fake! A ruse, so Jungkook could win his stupid bet!
“It wasn’t planned, or anything, okay? I wasn’t going to tell them about you-”
“You weren’t?” Jimin blurted out, brows pinching together. He seemed to have lost all ability to read the room, just a glass or two of wine enough to dull his brain. “Ow-!”
He glared at Taehyung, rubbing his arm. It still wasn’t enough to shut him up however. 
“What was that for? I’m just saying I’m a little surprised that Jungkook, the definition of a mama’s and papa’s boy, was planning on keeping his girlfriend a secret when he hasn’t shut up about Y/N for months-”
“No, wait it’s not like that,” Jungkook quickly scrambled, gesturing wildly. “It’s just that my parents, you know, can get a little much. And, I don’t know-”
His sentence didn’t find an end, and Jimin seemed to just take that as a sign to go on, 
“Didn’t Narae meet-”
“Okay, how about you finish your food, huh?” Taehyung interrupted, taking Jimin’s fork and picking up a big piece of meat before shoving it into his mouth. Namjoon and Seokjin exchanged glances, cringing. Yoongi lowered his head, and Jennie slid down on her seat. Chaeyoung looked at you with big empathetic eyes and Jisoo even gave your hand a squeeze. 
If there was anything genuine between you, this would have been devastating. Luckily, there wasn’t. So it couldn’t hurt. And yet, your heart felt like it was bleeding in your chest, a dagger shoved in, a dagger with Jungkook’s name. He was staring holes into you, but you couldn’t look at him, settling on the edge of the table instead. You weren’t hurt. You weren’t hurt that Narae with her perfect smile and manicured nails and beautiful hair and glossy lips got to meet his parents and you didn’t. It didn’t bother you at all! That was what you told yourself at least. Because you couldn’t possibly be hurt. Not when your relationship was transactional and just an act. And yet, to your misery, you were hurt, deeply. You hated it, how you weren’t all that unbothered as you wanted and more importantly, should be. 
You were pulled out of your thoughts though when you saw the glare Hoseok was looking at Jungkook with. It dawned on you how awful all of it had to sound to your friends then. Narae, who never even was Jungkook’s official girlfriend, got to meet his parents, but you, who was officially (at least to them) his girlfriend, he not only didn’t want to introduce to them but also planned on keeping a secret?
“Oh my God, you guys!” you laughed, loud and light, like it was all so very dumb and stupid. With a big swoop, you grabbed Jungkook’s hand on the table, hoping no one saw the shake in your fingers. Everyone looked at you.
“You’re misunderstanding. We had agreed from the beginning that we should take it a little slower, and not tell everyone immediately. I knew he wasn’t going to tell his parents. I told him not to.” You put on your most convincing smile, swallowing the knot in your throat, hoping desperately it was enough. Everyone was looking at you, and you looked right back at them, at everyone except for Jungkook. Your vision almost blurred, hazy at the edges, feeling your composure threaten to slip.
“It’s nothing.”
There was a slight shake in your voice, the tiniest of a waver. You couldn’t tell if your friends noticed, their faces unreadable to you. A moment of silence stretched across the room, the food long forgotten about. In the end, it was slightly tipsy Jimin, the one who started it all, to break the awkwardness.
“Okay, well, do I text them… yes or-?”
You wondered if Jimin was this stupid, or trying to put you through hell on purpose. His question made Taehyung next to him sigh and shake his head, lips pressed together as he stared daggers into the older one.
“What?” Jimin whispered, offended. Maybe you should have taken the wine from him sooner. 
You looked at Jungkook finally. He didn’t seem to have an answer at all, his eyes big and wide like a child’s. There was something in them that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It almost seemed like he wanted you to agree, say yes, of course, you’d meet his parents. You had to be imagining it. As quickly as it had come, you squashed the thought.
It was up to you. The decision was in your hands. Everyone was waiting for your answer. Jungkook would have to go with whatever you were saying, whether or not he liked it. 
A lot of it was probably spite, spite that Narae met them already and you hadn’t. And how would it look if you weren’t there when Jungkook inevitably made a post about being back home with his family and you weren’t there in the pictures? What would Narae think? You could already see a backhanded Instagram story in front of your eyes, how there was trouble in paradise. It was something you wouldn’t put past her at all, seeing as she had done so before, posting just an hour after Jungkook celebrated your one month anniversary about how cringe some couples could be. Anyone doubting your relationship might just lead to Taehyung doubting your relationship and then to Jungkook losing his bet and all of this would have been for nothing. That couldn’t happen, right? You had to do something against it!
“They probably won’t stop bothering you until you tell them yes, right?” 
You tried your hardest to sound casual, nonchalant, chill as some might say. This was no big deal, you told yourself.
It wasn’t what Jungkook had expected. He thought you’d give some roundabout answer that in the end summarised that you needed to keep things slow and easy. But you agreed. You were going to meet his parents. He searched for something in your features, anything to tell him how you genuinely felt about it. He was trying to read you, but it was like he had the wrong dictionary. 
“If that’s alright with you-” Maybe it was to hit the nail on the head, finish it off, you couldn’t say. But the urge was strong right then, just once to say it. “—babe?”
You turned to him and looked at him almost confidently. It was both your face and the pet name, but Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh. Of course, now you were going to call him babe. A grin spread across his lips.
“Okay, yeah.” He held your hand firmer and tighter. “I’d be more than happy for you to meet my parents. They’d be thrilled.”
He was a great liar. It sounded oh so very genuine.
You squeezed his hand and turned to Jimin. “I guess you can text them I’m going.”
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find it here!!
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troubled-mind · 4 months
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1st Year in This Corner of Tumblr: (Some of) My Fav Reads (so far)
This list was supposed to be a part of a very simple round-up but then I got stuck on a plane with some time to kill and decided to expand it with a commentary. It's the festive season after all, let's spread gratitude. I limited myself to 10 pieces, each by a different author in no particular order.
#1 Asian Honorifics & BL - a quick & dirty guide, with examples by @absolutebl
After the revelation of December '22 that brought me here, I spent the better part of January educating myself on Asian BLs. Honestly, where better to start than this master post. In particular, I want to mention the Asian honorifics guide, without which I would be so so lost. Thanks for maintaining the BL syllabus P'ABL!
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#2 BL and it’s Shoujo grandma by @nieves-de-sugui
Now digging deeper, this piece along with any follow-ups like A Quick History of BL is straight-up fascinating. I am quite familiar with the evolution of genres in music but never knew how literary genres are building off each other. And it all has been happening not so long ago!
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#3 The Eighth Sense and Missing Pieces by @ranchthoughts
Oh, the times when T8S was airing were wild. The post Ranch wrote seems almost academic and I love it for that. Apart from the obvious logical arguments on the topic, it encapsulates the joy of collective experience where everyone can chime in. Every voice and take is valid and you can source your friends like a reputable scientific magazine - now that's just too cool.
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#4 This isn't about Wang by @respectthepetty
We all know and love the author for colour analysis but my favourite of RTP's posts is the 180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us meta. After watching the series, I desperately needed someone to unpack it for me. It was such a blessing to have those key moments and analogies broken down and explained in words. I yelled yass! after every paragraph. I do not want to go into details (spoilers!), but the bridge metaphor is still fresh in my mind.
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#5 Turtles Catches Up With Old GMMTV: I Told Sunset About You (ITSAY) Edition by @waitmyturtles
If there was a Spotify wrapped but for reading meta Turtles would be my number one artist, that's for sure. And I still haven't read half of the stuff she made for the GMMTV challenge. The sheer amount of words she produces is shocking. How does she write so much? so cleverly? while being so busy? The ITSAY piece gave me so much context on Phuket's communities, their history and the setting in which the story is told. It enriched my experience twofold.
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#6 The Knowing: Being Queer in BL by @bengiyo
Now this one, this one is very precious to me. After reading the piece and looking through the collection of characters presented there I realised that I've always been drawn to the characters that experience the Knowing. Or at least since I watched C.R.A.Z.Y. all those (16!) years ago. The need to fit in but feeling distinctly different was always something I empathised with a lot. Maybe that's actually why queer stories tend to move me so much. So thank you Ben for my 'oh' moment.
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#7 Moonlight Chicken is For the Queers by @wen-kexing-apologist
MLC is my favourite series of this year for various more or less objective reasons and one of them is tackled in this text. No other trope in any drama gets me more than found family / friendship group that suffers together through thick and thin. The way WKX presents these themes through a queer and very personal lens is deeply moving, and honestly, a privilege to read.
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#8 To My Star - Music by @iguessitsjustme
I have a thing for music in general, and above all else, I love discovering new songs and genres. And if it's through dramas? Even better. But I could never dissect the whole soundtrack the way Rae does. Everything clicked when I read the post on To My Star music. It was delightful to revisit the series and catch all the references with a new set of ears, so to speak. I also recommend the Old Fashion Cupcake analysis which was the final push for me to watch the show.
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#9 10 Things I Love About 3 Will Be Free by @lurkingshan
I would watch an absolute garbage of a series if Shan pitched it to me. I love it when she writes in the list/short paragraphs format, where each part has excellently laid out arguments. It's always such an easy and insightful read! The piece mentioned sold me on 3 Will Be Free and I am VERY grateful. My second fav out of Shan's pitches would be this kdrama recommendation list because she made it based on my parameters *blush*.
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#10 The Biting Spectrum: Ranking QL Chomps from Cute to Sexy to Feral by @sorry-bonebag & Office BLs Ranked by Their Ability to Maintain the Veneer of Appropriate Workplace Behaviour by @itsanidiom
Ok, so most of the posts mentioned before were on a serious note so let's finish up with something that just made me cry with laughter. Both of these rankings are the only ones that matter this year. I love how half of fandom content is essays on important topics and the other half is just unhinged analysis, wild theories and snarky comments ��
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Obviously, what I mentioned is only a small and very biased sample so I want to reiterate - big thanks to all the writers out there for giving me so much to read and think about. You made my year better!
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55sturn · 1 month
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ SWALLOWIN’ MY PRIDE
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↳ series masterlist!
↳ summary: in which chris is forced to swallow his pride as he comes to terms with the new that y/n has shared, realizing it’s not just her fault. however when he mentions the alternatives, he fails to see how much it hurts his girlfriend.
↳ pairings: boston bruins player!chris sturniolo x fem!reader!
↳ warnings: swearing, angst, chris not wanting a kid, verbal arguments, big talks about abortions and giving the kid up for adoption, mentions and descriptions of vomiting, a loooot of angst tbh.
↳ important things to note: this is a heavy chapter so please keep that in mind if you choose to keep reading, i’ve done my part and have warned you about what this chapter entails so please do yours and close out of this fic if you cannot handle those topics. i am not your mother i cannot stop you, but if you choose to keep going despite being uncomfortable with the things i’ve warned you about, you are not allowed to get upset with anyone but yourself. enjoy<3
THIRD PERSON POV
chris was left utterly speechless as he stared at the thin plastic stick in his hand. the only thing running through his mind, was “what am i going to do? i just signed the contract today?” he felt guilty being so absorbed in his doubts about his career but it was something he had worked for his entire life. he knew his concerns were selfish, he knew that, but he couldn’t stop worrying about them.
the words “we’re pregnant, chris.” rang in his ears like a bell chiming, he felt his breath get stuck in his throat and he wasn’t able to breathe. he quickly shifted y/n off his lap so he could begin pacing, he held his head in his hands as his skates clunked against the padded locker room floor.
“what the fuck are we going to do y/n?” chris spits, his voice broken and unsteady as he looks at his girlfriend, her eyes red with unshed tears as she shook her head softly and shrugged.
“i don’t know chris.”
“why weren’t you careful?” chris exclaims, unintentionally putting all the blame on her as her head snaps up, her brows furrowed tightly as she breathes out a listless laugh.
“how is this all my fault?”
“i’m not saying it’s your fault. but why didn’t you just get an abortion?”
“in case you forgot what you were taught in fifth grade health class, it takes two people to make a baby, chris. you were the one that wanted to hit it raw and you promised to pull out but clearly you didn’t. and i didn’t want to abort it without your input because this child is half of you, too. and i would not be able to sit through that alone!“ she scoffs, tears dripping down her cheeks as she stares up at him, guilt and regret chipping away at the slight glimmer of hope that chris would be okay with it that she held.
“i just signed a good contract baby, i can’t miss my games for this shit.” chris sighs, his heart rate slowing down, but his mind was still racing, leaving him blind to the internal battle his girlfriend was facing.
he felt sick, he had everything mapped out for the next five years and this baby completely threw a wrench in everything that he had meticulously planned. there was no way a baby this early in his career would look good, it’d make him look reckless and uncaring about his job.
“do you not think i’ve been thinking about that, chris? that’s the only thing i’ve been thinking about since i found out or even had the slightest idea i was pregnant, i have been terrified of derailing the life plans you’ve set up for yourself and i don’t know what the fuck to do but what i do know, is that we’re pregnant and we have to make a decision about this. so until you’ve processed this, you can stay with one of your brother’s, i will be waiting at home.” y/n replies, her voice gradually getting quieter and breaking even more as she finishes. wiping her tears, she quickly exists the room, the need to vomit overcoming her.
her mind wouldn’t stop racing. it brought every possible scenario to the surface and she was beyond scared. what was she going to do? chris sure as hell didn’t seem to want the baby, and she thought she didn’t either but talking about it to chris had her realizing that she wants a family more than anything.
as she knelt in front of the toilet , she couldn’t help but laugh internally. finding out you’re expecting a child was supposed to be a joyous and happy time. finding out that you’re carrying a life that is half of yourself and the person you’re in love with, the person you’re fully committed to for life, was supposed to have you feeling over the moon. and instead, it had y/n’s stomach twisting with guilt, regret, heartache, and distress.
ash she wiped her mouth and flushed the toilet, she sat on the edge of it, letting her tears fall as she let the feelings of hopelessness and loss fully consume her heart. would she really see this pregnancy to term if chris didn’t want anything to do with her and the baby? if she did, would she let chris back into her life when he decides he wants a family? or would he seek a family somewhere else?
“how the fuck am i going to survive this without him?” she whispered to herself, quickly exiting the public washroom and making a beeline for the front entrance.
chris on the other hand, was stoic as stared at the wall opposite of him, the thin plastic stick beside him taunting him and his mind, almost as if it was telling him that he was acting selfishly. instead of comforting his girlfriend, who was as equally terrified of their recent news as chris, if not more? he blamed her. he yelled at her.
he callously told her to abort their baby to be. to get rid of the life growing inside her as if it meant nothing. as if it wasn’t the product of two people that loved each other deeply. even if it wasn’t planned or considered, that child to be was still the result of chris and y/n’s love. of the fact that they held each other so closely that they made love without any preventative measures. but chris couldn’t look at it that way, he didn’t want to.
his focus was on his career, hockey was everything to him. it made him everything he is. but was hockey really the only thing that mattered to chris? as he mulled over the answer, images of y/n sobbing as she held the freshly positive test, of her sobbing and scared in front of him waiting for him to pull her into his arms in the middle of that locker room flash through his mind. he felt guilty, he hadn’t even hugged her as she sobbed, he so badly wishes he could rewind the clock a few minutes so he could react differently but he couldn’t.
he knew he wanted a family at some point in his life, but now? it was so early. he wanted to bask in all the glory of being the newest and youngest star on the bruins without the responsibilities of his personal life hanging over his head. but that wasn’t possible.
as his team made their way down the hall, chris shoved the test into the side pocket of his hockey bag and plastered a fake smile on his face. the team cheered and hollered as they had won the game. chris joined in on the festivities, briefly forgetting the decision he had to make as the team got dressed in their suits and dress clothes, deciding to hit the bar in the lounge above the rink nd celebrate their win and landing bracket in the playoffs.
y/n was in the complete opposite state, she sat at the table, the meal she had prepped hours ago as soon as she got home after leaving the game early sat on the table in front of her. it had grown cold and stale as she tried to bring the urge to eat to life but she couldn’t bear the thought of choking back her food. she hated eating without chris. she knew he wasn’t going to join her after she told him to stay with one his brothers, but out of pure muscle memory she made a plate for him and it sat across the table from her, taunting her, as if to say “this is what your future will look like if chris decides he doesn’t want the baby.” and it broke her heart into a million shards.
could she really handle a life without him? they’ve been together for so long as it is. was it worth it to go through everything that they have already, just for a child to tear them apart? she didn’t know the answer to that and she didn’t want to. she hoped that somehow, chris’ mind would change and he would have this great epiphany and realize he wants this, the family life with y/n.
she knew how important this spot on the bruins’ team was to chris, she knew that more than anybody else. but was it more important than a life with the woman he called his soulmate? was his career more important to him than his relationship?
y/n, truthfully, had began to believe it was. he would call off dates and anniversary dinners to go hang out with the team, he would come home late the nights he promised to be home early. he put so much of their time together on the back burner, and maybe this child was the wake-up call she needed. maybe she wasn’t cut out for the life of dating a superstar hockey player.
sighing, she cleared the plates off, putting the leftovers in an air-tight container and leaving them for her or, hopefully, chris to eat another day. she quickly loaded the dishwasher and started it before cleaning the rest of the kitchen. as she had finished, she flicked off the main kitchen light, leaving the light above the stove on so that when chris came home, if he had made up his mind yet, he wouldn’t be surrounded by complete darkness. but she knew in the back of her mind, chris coming home tonight was just wishful thinking.
as she laid in bed, she scrolled through instagram, chris’ story updates catching her eye. pressing down on his profile circle surrounded by a pinkish purple ring, she was met with the sight of chris and john shot gunning beer in their suits, leaving her slightly hurt that instead of talking about things with her or his brothers he chose to party with his team. she knew that making an appearance at the after parties was important, she had just hoped their situation was more important. but refusing to let herself dwell on what she meant to chris, she rolled over and willed herself to sleep.
it had been a few days since her confession to chris and she had yet to hear even just a single word from him. and the silence was killing her. after her doctors appointment, which confirmed that she was in fact two months along, she had received texts of congratulations and more from his family so she assumed he had said something and maybe he wasn’t completely ashamed of what was happening, but she had a gnawing feeling of doubt in her stomach telling her that wasn’t the case.
“matt i don’t know what to think.” chris sighed, looking to his more level-headed brother for advice in this situation.
“well chris, do you really want her to abort it? like can you live with the fact that you’re putting her through that, you know that she’s completely all for it, but it’s different when it’s the one going through it. so would you be able to live with the fact that you’re pushing her to take away this chance, both of yours and hers, at a family right now?”
“well when you word it that way-“
“and who’s to say that you won’t be looking at having a family the same way down the line if, let’s say, she aborts the baby now and this entire thing happens again? would you put her through it twice? when you could just as easily implement all the later plans with your career that included a family into your plans for now. it would be much easier to maneuver things around right because the ink on your contract has barely dried yet. you do it later down the line and shit could go up in flames. but if you’re still dead set on pushing her to an abortion, by all means do it. it’s up to you man but from the way you’ve talk about it, y/n wants to have a family so what you’re doing is most likely killing her, and if you pushing her to do this wrecks your relationship, you won’t find another girl to love you the way she does. and i know you didn’t actually ask for it, but my opinion is that you’re being a fucking idiot. you and i both know that all you’ve wanted with y/n is to raise a family. you talked about your future kids’ names with her two months into the start of your relationship. so i’m not sure why you’re doing all this shit, chris.” matt rambled, his words cutting directly into the flesh of chris’ heart, he knew matt was right. every word he spoke nothing but truth clinging to it. so why was he putting both him and y/n, mainly y/n, through all of this? sighing, chris nodded and thanked him for the advice before plucking his keys off the counter of matt’s kitchen before heading out the door and climbing into his car.
chris made quick work of driving home to y/n, he felt so unbelievably guilty for leaving her alone with her thoughts for as long as he had. as he stepped into their shared home, he felt like an intruder, he didn’t feel like himself, because in what world would chris, the same chris who is so unbelievably and irrevocably in love with y/n, push her to terminate their child? chris should’ve been ecstatic and sobbing over the news. instead he let his job cloud his judgement and focus, and he felt terrible.
“baby?” chris calls out, quickly climbing the entryway stairs and standing in the main hallway, waiting for y/n to answer.
“in here.” she calls back, her voice tired and strained from all the crying she had done. as chris rounds the corner into their room, his heart breaks at the sight of her curled up on his side of the bed in his hoodie.
“i am so sorry y/n, i’ve been an asshole.”
“i’ll say.” she whispers, shifting back to her side of the bed as chris climbs in beside her.
“i want to apologize for blaming you, it’s not your fault. and for suggesting an abortion without actually hearing what you want. if you want one, i’ll support you. i talked to matt and he made me realize what a jackass i’ve been. if you genuinely want this baby, then i do too. i love you, and i want you to be safe and happy. and if having a family makes you happy, then i’m willing to raise this baby with you because in all honesty, i do want this baby.”
“what about your career?”
“we’ll figure that out when we need to.”
“okay. i love you.”
“i love you forever and a day, y/n. i’m so sorry i’ve been so shitty, i was scared and lashed out on you when i should’ve acknowledged that you were scared too, i shouldn’t have let you deal with it on your own.” chris hums, wrapping his arms around her as she dries her tears and rest her head against his chest.
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↳ taglist: @dylsdunbar @verosivy @soursturniolo @4sturns @sturnsclutter @spencerstits @meanttomeet @bluesturniolo333 @graciereid @abbie13sworld @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @mylifeisevenstranger @bethsturn @ifilwtmfc @themattgirl @lovingmattysposts @lacysturniolo @freshsturns @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @cupidsword @strawberrysturniolo @lustfulslxt @sturnifyed @carolsturns1 @teapartyprincess4two @mangosrar @querenciasturniolo @pinklittleflower @cutenote @ellie-luvsfics @strniolo @junnniiieee07 @33sturniolo @heartz4chris @hearts4chris @evie-sturns @nicksmainbitch @gnxosblog @sturniolopepsi
© 55STURN 2024 ! REBLOGS NOT EXPECTED BUT GREATLY APPRECIATED ! [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]
↳ this story is far from over, let me know if you want a part three <3 there’s gonna be so much angst i actually feel bad which is crazy bc i never feel bad for writing angst
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bruhstation · 3 months
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it’s been a hot while! I’m busy with uni and maintaining my grades, med school studies, and life in general, but in the midst of it all…..
BRUHSTATION HAS REACHED 1000+ FOLLOWERS!!! WOAH!!!!!!!!!
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WHAT‼️
truth to be told, this blog reached exactly 1000 followers back in early december 2023. I was planning on making a one shot comic, but ran out of time and energy and my follower count kept going up and up! so I decided to come forward about it now.
thank you all for your support for the one and a half year bruhstation has been operating! it’s still a bit shocking to me how much people take interest in this unofficial spinoff of mine through your asks, submissions, reblogs, and comments and how so many of you has made fan content like fanart, fanfic, and playlists while casa tidmouth develops. I can’t thank you all enough for your love and interest, and despite me getting busier everyday, you all still stuck around. I cannot express my gratitude enough for you all.
I’ve met a lot of amazing people in this community who kept supporting me and my friends even before I joined the ttteblr community also shared many joys as well! what I initially thought to be a quaint blog that’s not gonna last long has now garnered so much support and love!!! it’s been really fun!!!!
one thousand and forty people!!! that’s insane!!!! also reaching 1k followers in one and half a year….. heh…. (rubs the back of my head)
but here’s the thing! this little drawing of the 156 trio isn’t just what I have in mind! think of it as a starter for this 1k followers celebration because I want to give the followers of bruhstation something special.
so here’s my plan! I’m planning on holding a casa tidmouth popularity poll in commemoration of this four digit milestone.
the poll will be held through google form. it’s more of a questionaire if anything — the questions will be divided into categories like which character you like design wise, personality wise, etc… and you can vote for the character(s) present! not only characters — you can also vote for stuff related to the story (related to the questions given, of course!) there’ll also be other questions related to the blog itself (outside of the cstm universe) as well. yannow, blog improvisation and stuff. I won’t spoil much of my idea here, but I just want to see the public’s reception.
but before I go through with my plan, I’m holding an interest check to see how many people are interested in this popularity poll idea! so —
once again, thank you for your support, and I await your response!
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bloody-bee-tea · 3 months
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We have to match
This fic was entirely inspired by by this amazing art by @jjks-dodo
The first time it happens, Suguru doesn't know what to do with the present Satoru shoves into his hands.
“It’s not my birthday,” is the first thing out of his mouth, because it’s the first of December, so it’s actually closer to Satoru’s birthday than his own.
“I know that,” Satoru gives back, bouncing on the balls of his feet as if he’s vibrating out of his skin with excitement.
It’s kind of his default state whenever he does something, though, so it doesn’t really clue Suguru in on what’s going on here.
“What is this, then?” Suguru asks, lifting the present slightly. It’s wrapped, though haphazardly so, and Suguru knows that Satoru must have done it himself.
“If you’d unpack it, you’d know,” he snaps out, slightly on edge so this must be important to him.
Still, Suguru can’t help but to want to know more before he unwraps it.
“I’d like to know the occasion first, if you don’t mind.”
He’s wrecking his brain, trying to figure out if he missed some important date, some anniversary he wasn’t aware of–he wouldn’t put it past Satoru to remember the first time they shared a popsicle or something and then make a big deal out of it–but nothing comes to mind.
“It’s Christmas,” Satoru informs him, and it only serves to make Suguru frown harder.
“It’s really not,” he gives back, because it’s December 1st. Christmas is still far away, and it’s not even as if Suguru celebrates it anyway.
He didn’t think Satoru would, either, what with his family and all but clearly he’d been wrong about that.
“But it’s the Advent Season,” Satoru almost whines out, clearly bothered by the fact that Suguru didn’t open his present yet. “Will you just open it already, goddamit.”
Suguru hesitates for a moment longer, mostly just to annoy the hell out of Satoru, but he sees how the bouncing slows down, sees how Satoru worries the hem of his sleeves with his fingers and Suguru just knows that this is important to him, no matter what is in the present.
It’s important enough to Satoru to make him nervous about this and Suguru doesn’t have it in him to let him wait longer.
“Fine, fine, relax, would you,” he mutters, even as he rips the paper wrapping apart and he momentarily goes still when he finds a sweater.
A Christmas sweater to be precise.
It’s red and green with little reindeers all over and it’s kind of hideous if Suguru were to be honest, but he can’t be. Not when Satoru looks at him with so much expectation written on his face.
“Thanks?” Suguru finally manages to say, still unsure what he’s supposed to do with this, when Satoru suddenly whips out a matching sweater.
“The time leading up to Christmas is the best time and we’ll have to match, so I got you that one to match mine,” he excitedly says, clearly reassured by the fact that Suguru didn’t immediately throw the sweater in his face.
“We have to match,” Suguru repeats slowly, and the corners of his mouth twitch when Satoru nods vigorously, making his hair flop around.
When a strand gets stuck in Satoru’s eyelashes, Suguru reaches out without thought to push it away. He briefly feels panic lick up his throat when Satoru goes still under his fingers, but Suguru pretends as if nothing happens and takes his hand back as if it didn’t mean anything.
“You sure you got my size right?” he asks to break the weird tension between them and it’s enough to jolt Satoru back into action, though he can’t quite hide the faint blush on his face.
“A size  bigger than me, because of your stupidly huge shoulders,” he huffs out and Suguru laughs.
“I keep telling you, if you’d actually train like at least once a weak you wouldn’t be all noodle-limbed.”
“I’m not noodle-limbed!” Satoru huffs and puffs with outrage and Suguru laughs even louder. 
They both know it’s not true anyway; Satoru is good enough at hand-to-hand combat to best just about everyone they know, except, of course, Suguru.
“If you and your stupidly jacked arms rip this sweater apart, I’m not getting you a new one,” Satoru hisses at him when Suguru takes of the shirt he’s currently wearing to try the sweater on.
It’s a nice thought, not having to wear this hideous thing, but Suguru just knows that for all his faked outrage Satoru would be devastated and Suguru couldn’t stand it. So he slips into the sweater and lets out a relieved little sigh when it actually fits him.
He only feels slightly stupid when he turns around and he gives a pointed look at Satoru’s own shirt.
“Where’s yours then,” he wants to know and Satoru lights up like a Christmas tree.
“I have it right here, wait,” he rushes out, magicking out a second sweater from god-knows-where and he slips it on without hesitation. “Now we match,” he laughs out, bright and happy and for that alone Suguru would wear much worse things than a stupid, cute, matching Christmas sweater.
~*~*~
The second time it happens, Suguru is kind of expecting it. He knows Satoru too well to think he’d let something like this go, would only do it for one year and so when Satoru hands him a slightly better wrapped present, he accepts it without complaint.
“Cutting it a little bit close, huh?” he asks, because it’s already late in the night of the first of December and it’s not like Satoru to miss out on even a day of this.
Last year he made Suguru wear the sweater almost constantly, only allowing him to take it off to get it washed and for missions and so for him to almost miss an entire day is uncharacteristic.
“Yeah, well–” Satoru trails off, clutching his jacket more tightly around himself and Suguru narrows his eyes at him.
“What did you do?” he wants to know because it’s clear as day that Satoru is up to something.
“Nothing,” Satoru easily gives back, too fast and too smooth and Suguru’s fingers still on the paper. 
“I don’t think I want this anymore,” he says, shoving the parcel into Satoru’s chest who shoves it right back.
“You have to, though Suguru, we have to match, remember?” 
“I’m not so sure I want to match with you anymore,” Suguru lies straight through his teeth and a painful stab of regret is all he gets for his trouble when hurt briefly flashes over Satoru’s face.
“But–it’s tradition, right?” Satoru asks and Suguru shakes his head.
“One year doesn’t make a tradition, Satoru,” he tells him, though he does get back to unwrapping the sweater.
This one is thankfully only red as far as Suguru can see so far, and so that already makes it better than the last one, at least in Suguru’s opinion.
That thought only holds for as long as he needs to fully unfold the sweater though, because of course it wouldn’t be that easy, not when it comes to Satoru.
The words ‘I’m the naughty one’ are stitched into the front in white and Suguru lowers it just enough to be able to glare at Satoru.
“What the hell is this?” he demands to know only for Satoru to grin brightly at him as he takes off his jacket, revealing a matching red sweater underneath it.
Except his says ‘I’m the nice one’.
“Absolutely not,” Suguru whispers under his breath, even as Satoru laughs right in his face in his glee but he gets the wind knocked out of him when Suguru throws his own sweater in Satoru’s face and then uses that moment of distraction to tackle him to the bed.
“Absolutely not!” Suguru repeats louder this time and starts to wrestle Satoru out of the sweater.
“Hey, hey, what are you doing, Suguru,” Satoru shrieks out, laughing so hard he can barely breathe when Suguru tries to distract him by tickling him but even like this it takes him a long time to finally, finally get Satoru out of the sweater.
“If one of us is the naughty one, it’s you,” Suguru pants out, sitting across Satoru’s legs and looking down at him, his hair falling around his face, bun having come undone somewhere in their tousle.
“But everyone expects that,” Satoru pouts at him, still breathing hard from screaming and laughing and his face is flushed red.
He’s absolutely beautiful.
“And besides, don’t act as if you don’t encourage me at every turn,” he adds and it’s not as if Suguru can even deny that.
Enabling Satoru is a bit of a bad habit of his but not everyone needs to know that.
“Do not,” he says, just to be contrary, and pulls the ‘I’m the nice one’ sweater over his head, so that there’s no chance of Satoru taking it back.
He stills when it settles around him.
“That’s my size,” he says, fixing Satoru with his eyes and Satoru blinks up at him.
“We have the same size?” he tries, even though they both know that’s bullshit and Suguru proves it to him by reaching for the naughty sweater and checking the size there.
“This one is one size smaller, though,” Suguru says and shoves the sweater almost into Satoru’s face.
“My mistake,” Satoru says, still not able to admit that he did this on purpose it seems and there’s only one possible punishment for that.
Suguru flops down on top of him.
“Uff, you oaf, don’t you know you’re heavy as fuck?” Satoru breathes out but his attempts at pushing Suguru off are half-hearted at best.
“I’m also tired as hell,” Suguru easily gives back and dares to nuzzle his face into the crook of Satoru’s neck. “I think I might sleep right here.”
“Hey, hey, Suguru!” Satoru squeaks out, though of course he’d never admit to that and Suguru huffs out a laugh.
Satoru is warm under him and kind of poky with his sharp edges but it’s the single most comfortable position Suguru has been in, simply because it’s Satoru, and soon enough he really gets sleepy.
“‘m gonna sleep now,” he whispers out and the last thing he knows is how Satoru scratches at his scalp as he breathes out a soft “Okay”.
~*~*~
Suguru is already holding his hands out when Satoru steps into the room.
“Let’s see what horrible thing you brought this time,” he says, making grabby hands at Satoru, who seems to have frozen right in the doorway.
“Uhm,” Satoru says, looking down at the present in his hands before he looks back up at Suguru.
He’s more nervous than he was even the first time he did this and it instantly puts Suguru on edge.
“Is it that hideous?” he wants to know, simply snatching the present out of Satoru’s hand, who tries to get it back but ultimately fails because he still can’t best Suguru when it comes to anything even resembling close combat.
“I just–” Satoru cuts himself off, clearly unsure of himself and Suguru fights the urge to soothe his nerves.
He fails miserably, because he always does when it comes to Satoru.
“You want me to give it back?” he asks, offering the present to Satoru, who doesn’t reach out for it. “If you don’t want to, we can skip this year,” Suguru goes on, even though it’s clear that some part of Satoru at least must want because he did get the sweater after all.
“No, it’s just–you might hate it.”
Satoru hasn’t been that unsure since the very first week of them knowing each other and Suguru hates it with a passion.
“Why would I?” he carefully asks but Satoru only shrugs. “Can I unwrap it?”
“Sure. Just remember that it doesn’t–you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.”
Of course I want to sits at the tip of his tongue, but Suguru bites it back. It’s not going to help if he reassures Satoru with meaningless words right now, so instead of saying that he busies himself with unwrapping this year's sweater.
This one is green for a change but by now Suguru knows to wait until he sees the front before he forms his decision on this, so he quickly unfolds it, holding it out in front of him.
In stark white it says ‘Family Christmas’ on the front and Suguru is glad that the sweater is hiding his face for the moment because to think that Satoru was nervous about this hurts him acutely.
“You hate it,” Satoru grumbles when Suguru takes a moment too long to say something. “I knew you’d hate it, that was such a dumb idea,” he goes on, his voice barely above a whisper and Suguru lowers the sweater so fast, Satoru flinches.
“Of course you’re my family, you idiot,” Suguru breathes out, instantly honing in on what made Satoru so nervous because he knows him after all. “It’s a great sweater.”
“It–is?” Satoru wants to know, clearly still not convinced and Suguru doesn’t hesitate to slide it over his shirt. 
“Of course it is,” he vehemently says, because it is. 
Satoru doesn’t quite seem convinced though, so Suguru pulls him into a hug. 
“You are my family, idiot,” he says, more fondly than maybe necessary, but Satoru doesn’t call him out on it and instead slings his arms around him.
“You sure?”
“I’ve been wearing stupid matching Christmas sweaters with you for the past two years, you really think I would do that for just anybody?”
Satoru doesn’t need to know that that really has nothing to do with being family and all with Suguru being stupidly in love with him. At least not yet.
Though a plan is slowly starting to take form in Suguru’s mind.
“I should hope not, actually,” Satoru gives back and Suguru rests his head on top of Satoru’s.
He doesn’t move away, and he doesn’t protest about the hug as much as he normally does–however feigned his protest usually is–and so Suguru knows that this really means a lot to him.
It means a lot to him, too, and so he’s more than content to stay right where he is.
~*~*~
Suguru barges into Satoru’s room at the tail end of the last day of November.
“I’ve got a present for you!” he calls out, throwing the wrapped gift right into Satoru’s face when he’s not quick enough to sit up and catch it.
Nerves are licking up Suguru’s spine but like this he can’t talk himself out of it. Not again. He talked himself out of it so often during the last year–years, really–and he thinks it’s time that one of them man’s up. He thinks he knows what Satoru’s answer is going to be, has seen it in the lingering stares, has felt it in the prolonged touches but there’s still that small chance that it’s all just because Satoru sees him as family.
As just family, and nothing more.
“What’s this?” Satoru wants to know, turning the present in his hands and Suguru rolls his eyes at him.
“If you’d open it, you’d know,” he shoots back, not sitting down next to Satoru because he needs to be able to read Suguru’s own sweater once he unpacked his.
It doesn’t help with the nerves, when Satoru has to look up at him like that, though.
“Is this–a sweater?” Satoru asks, squeezing the package in his hands. “Did you get me a Christmas sweater?” He almost sounds accusing and Suguru raises an eyebrow at him.
“What? You can do it, but I can’t?”
“But I have ours picked out already!”
“Yeah, well, shucks. It’s my turn, this year,” Suguru decides and he closes Satoru’s mouth when it drops open.
“Wow, didn’t know you could be so rude,” he mutters, Suguru’s hand still under his chin and Suguru gives him his best grin.
“I learned from the best. Now, if you would?”
“Now, if you would,” Satoru repeats mockingly under his breath, but he does rip into the paper, quickly unveiling the sweater.
At first glance it’s simply red, but of course there’s something written on the front and Suguru’s heart beats in his chest.
“I have everything I want for Christmas,” Satoru reads out loud and Suguru can see the frown on his face. “That’s not even funny, Suguru,” he then whines out, turning his gaze back to Suguru, who feels as if he could die on the spot.
His mouth his dry, his heart is beating so fast he’s afraid it might jump right out of his chest and the butterflies in his stomach make him a little bit sick.
“It’s not supposed to be funny,” he still somehow gets out as he opens his jacket and shows Satoru the matching sweater he’s wearing.
It’s green and the words “It’s me, I’m everything” are written on the front.
Suguru watches how Satoru’s eyes go wide as he slowly takes in the words and he knows it’s all going to be fine when Satoru blushes a furious red.
“What does that mean? Suguru, what does that mean?” he demands to know, almost shouting out the words in his urgency and Suguru smiles at him.
“Take an educated guess,” he replies, though he doesn’t torture Satoru–or himself–any longer.
He bends down, briefly pressing his lips to Satoru’s to make it abundantly clear just what this all means and he knows Satoru finally goes with the program when his hands fly up to tangle in Suguru’s sweater, keeping him right where he is, keeping him close.
“Does that mean I don’t get any other Christmas presents this year?” Satoru pouts out, though Suguru can see how his eyes shine with happiness. 
He leans in to taste that smile once more.
“Maybe if you’re being good, I have one or two for you,” he breathes out, and this time it’s Satoru who leans in for a kiss.
“But everyone knows I’m the naughty one,” Satoru mutters against his lips and Suguru laughs.
Satoru steals the sound right from his lips.
“Maybe I’ll part with that sweater just this once,” Suguru muses but Satoru shakes his head. 
“Not a chance in hell, we’re never going to take these ones off. I love you.”
Trust Satoru to still be the first one to say it, Suguru fondly thinks as he’s almost drowning in his love. 
“I love you,” he quickly gives back, peppering Satoru’s face with kisses until he’s laughing with happiness.
“I want everyone to know,” Satoru eventually says, once they are cuddled close on the bed and Suguru snorts out a laugh.
“Kind of inevitable if you don’t want to take that sweater off ever again,” he gives back and Satoru beams at him.
“Best way to tell everyone. Best way to tell me, actually, “he adds after a moment and Suguru simply has to kiss him again.
“Thought you might like it,” Suguru nods, pulling Satoru closer. “Glad you like it.”
“Love it,” Satoru immediately corrects him. “Just like I love you.”
“Love you, too,” Suguru mutters, getting sleepy now that all the adrenaline is out of his system and he’s warm and cozy in bed, with the love of his life safely in his arms.
He nuzzles his face against Satoru’s shoulder and breathes one more kiss on his skin before sleep slowly drags him under.
The last thing he hears his a muttered “You think there are sweaters for proposing?” and Suguru falls asleep with a smile on his face.
He really wouldn’t mind a sweater like that.
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racing-men-are-better · 4 months
Text
FLURRY OF FICS DAY THREE!!!!!
NO PRE-READ COMMENTS JUST ENJOY!!!!!!!!
Trope: Team Principal's Daughter
Driver: Danny Ric
Summary: You met in 2018 while you were paying your mandatory visit with your Dad. Daniel just so happened to be the rival team's driver, so naturally you blew off some steam with him. Five years later you're having to plan for Christmas in the next coming weeks and still seem to have some steam to blow off.
Warning: smut
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A large huff left Y/n's mouth as she looked once more at her calendar. So many people to see and only thirty-one days. Take into account everyone's other conflicts and you had utter chaos. For Mercedes being in her blood it certainly looked like Ferrari had come through with their bright ideas trying to plan the month of December. Thank God for Daniel's side of the family arranging all the parties and get-togethers on the Australian side of things. People pleasing came from her Mom, wanting to be there for everyone when they needed it. Y/n was always telling people yes only to realize days later her schedule was full, pleading Daniel to cancel the plans for her. Which of course he did anything to make her happy so he was quickly dialing numbers to erase the panic from her face.
One singular chime rang from her phone, the message she dreaded every year.
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"Fucking hell." Y/n yelled slamming her phone back onto the kitchen table. Face shoved in her hand she paid no mind to the man who had peaked his head out of their bedroom.
Daniel gently approached the woman running a comforting hand across her back, "what's wrong?"
"Oh just my wonderful father inviting us to dinner."
A pause suffocated the room, "I'm missing something, Love. He's trying at least."
A muffled sound left Y/n's mouth at Daniel's sad attempt, "no he's not. Toto Wolff is stuck in a position where he has to invite his illegitimate child to Christmas dinner to still look like he didn't just stick around to pay child support. Not to mention everyone wants us somewhere at some point in December and it's driving me crazy."
The scrape of a chair brought Y/n's eyes just above from where they had been hidden behind her forearm, meeting a soft gaze from her boyfriend, "come here." He simply offered a hand at first to tug up, using the other to slip around her hip, guiding Y/n onto his lap. Now sat perpendicular to his legs she lay her head softly against his shoulder. "How about you tell a few people no?"
"But then people will get butt hurt."
"And?"
Another groan left the lips of his girlfriend making his blood flow to the wrong area at the wrong time, "I don't want them to feel like I don't want to spend time with them."
"Y/n." Daniel began slowly.
Head perked up in response to her name she now met the eyes of a man she never in a million years would have believed would be discussing Christmas plans with. "Yes."
"Are we going to your Mom's?"
"One-hundred-percent. On the twenty-third."
"My parents?" Continued Daniel, a slight tease in his tone starting to slip up.
"Whatever we are doing in Australia has already been planned by your Mom." A sigh of relief came out of Y/n at that revelation being shared out loud, "thank goodness for Grace!"
"Grandparents?"
"Mine will be at my mom's and your's are again up to your mom."
Daniel placed a finger underneath her chin to guarantee he had Y/n's full attention, "so who else do you need to worry about? We are at a point in life where not everyone is going to get to see you for the holidays."
"But-"
The finger he had previously placed on her chin now rested against her lips, "but nothing. Stop worrying so much, my love."
"I can't just leave people hanging like that." Not a moment passed before Daniel was throwing his head back in annoyance, then chuckling at his poor girlfriend's predicament. Every year she panicked over plans and every year they went to fifteen different places to have the save five conversations. Only for Y/n to beat herself over every word on the car ride home. As much as Daniel enjoyed the backseat sex he got out of it there was nothing worse in his mind than watching Y/n unravel piece by piece.
"Shush." Began Daniel once he had gained his composure, "no more talk of family for the next hour. Take a break, please." His last words were spoken so painfully that not even Daniel recognized the tone in his voice, "I hate seeing you like this."
"Take my mind off things then." A tiny smirk had appeared onto Y/n's face by the time Daniel had scanned her features for the meaning behind her words.
Another miniscule laugh from the man, "like old times?"
"Someting like that." Whispered Y/n leaving all but a narrow gap between their lips, not even a breath could escape the pair as they played an unspoken game of chicken. Who was going to cave first? Who craved the other more?
After five years, it was no matter of who went first but of when they went together. Once they ceased the game when their lips embraced lightly. At some point in their relationship Daniel had given up trying to get inside her as fast as he could, taking the time to ensure she felt cherished every second he touched her. He wasn't sure when it turned into making love, but though they spent more time apart now than ever before it seemed sex wasn't just a way to get off anymore. Except for the off chance one was pissed off and it became a distraction. Much like now, but Daniel knew he had to move with more purpose. Y/n needed to see that not everybody needed to approve of where she was in December, she needed to see that those who put in the effort year round were the only ones who got to see her come time for the holidays.
Daniel hoisted the woman's body up onto the table, setting her down just off center. The kissing didn't cease, not for breath, and certainly not for words. Other couples talked during sex, but not them. Actions spoke louder than words so roaming hands and nips at the ear said plenty. Y/n found her lips trailing down his neck, leaving a teasing lick atop Daniel's adams apple. One petite hand slither down to the fastned button of Daniel's jeans while the other staying behind her back to make certain she wouldn't go tipping backwards. Y/n slipped the metal clasp between her fingers tugging to get it undone, only for it not to budge.
"Help." She pleaded quickly before placing her mouth back onto his in a fiery kiss.
For a moment Daniel, hesitated to undo his jeans, diving right into the motions with Y/n but her impatience was showing in the way she began to slow down. "Sorry, new pants."
"They look good, now off."
A low chuckle left his mouth as he took three steps back. One for personal viewing as he watch Y/n's eyes explore his body. Two to give him enough space to get rid of the pair of jeans. Three to make sure the first step wasn't for nothing. He wanted Y/n to watch him discard the clothes he wore. In his mind her eyes were never more beautiful than when she was being pleasured visually. Ranging from pride nearly tearing through the room when she watched him race to the down right darkest gaze imaginable when Daniel became that night's entertainment.
Y/n took the time to shimmy the pair of pajama shorts she had been wearing down her body, never once taking her eyes off of Daniel. Not even once as he took those three steps back in between her legs, softly removing her shirt from her body. Daniel, pushing his own shirt off his body gripped the side of Y/n's thigh, dragging her onto the edge of the table. At this point his lips had reached every part of her body, currently focusing all attention to her breasts. Every few seconds he was swirling his tongue around Y/n's hardened nipples, each flick of his tongue was met with a whimper of desperation from Y/n. He knew there was always time for teasing, but today he felt himself leaning more towards giving into Y/n's every need, ignoring his throbbing cock tucked uncomfortably inside his boxers. In a swift movement Daniel dragged lingering kisses down the length of Y/n;s torso, kneeling in the process.
Once he was happy in with Y/n glowing above him, Daniel pressed feather light kisses on either leg, pressing more in more frequent succession up the inside of her thighs until he finally reached her core. Y/n was dripping at this point, warm and ready for whatever he had in store for him. Daniel pressed a sensual kiss against her clit before peaking up only to meet her eyes already staring at him in anticipation. Another peck had her rolling her eyes in annoyance not in pleasure which was the opposite of Daniel's goal.
Two seconds later it seemed there would be no slowing him down, a single finger caressed her folds as his tongue entered in and out of her, massaging every inch he could reach. Y/n's trembling legs were the first indication she was close to her peak, as her sounds became more frantic and needy so did his motions. And all at once the pleasure erupted throughout Y/n's body leaving her panting loudly unable to make any other sound. Being the gentleman he was Daniel only dialed down the contact in slow increments, assuring no nerve in Y/n's body would feel left out as her orgasm cascaded over her body.
As he rose back to his feet, shaking slightly at the excitement of being with the woman he loved, two hands tugged the black boxers down his legs, at last realising his hard dick into the cold air. Daniel laughed at the eagerness of his girlfirend, expecting her to switch positions. Waiting to see her on her knees once again. However, when she shoved him into the chair he had sat in only moments ago a new wave of arousal filled him.
Y/n took all of five seconds to compose herself, still sopping from her last release as she straddled Daniel. One hand pressed against his face rubbing her thumb back and forth in appreciation of his features. Damn good genes he had, those honey coated eyes bore into her soul to find the warmest of feelings. Not even of the sexual kind, she felt wanted with him at all times. Y/n was loved with Daniel and that was all she needed in life. Despite the incredibly intimate moment they had post orgasm Y/n reached between the two of them, pumping her hand up and down Daniel's cock haphazardly, taking the beads of precum with her. He was always the noiser one, curses slipping out casually.
If anyone ever questioned if she truly was related to Toto then they had never seen her impatience especially when it came to men. For years she had tried the teasing and foreplay but when she was in control there was no stopping her. So naturally she sank down onto Daniel, a soft moan escaping her as she stretched herself. Daniel's hands found his way to the woman's hips, gripping her so tight, hoping when she woke up tomorrow there would be bruises. She loved being marked, but hickies were only appealing for so long, Daniel had to find ways to get creative. When he had first given her five finger sized contusions he had apologized profusely, claiming it was all an accident and he would never do it again. Yet, one look at her eyes in the mirror that morning told him a different story, it turned her on more than he had ever seen her.
Now as she bounced rhythmically up and down on his cock he tugged her body down more aggressively than she was moving herself. The combined friction of their fluid movements began to wear on them, sweat fell from Daniel's forehead, grunting with each slap of skin. How did he go years without this woman? Her minute sighs were the most heavenly sound, ranked far above the screaming of a formula one car. Few and far between were the moments where she would scream out, only when she was completely obliterated by their actions. Apparently she had stimulated herself enough, of course Daniel's added handedness was a perk.
"Daniel!" Y/n shrieked as she once again found herself slumped over and spilling out. Though she had finished Daniel took a few more selfish seconds to himself, thrusting in and out until he too was coming undone inside her.
Bodies shuddering with adrenaline Daniel scooped up Y/n, careful to not agitate her lower body, carrying her to the couch as that was as far as he felt he could go without having her fully wrapping in his arms.
Time passed and eventually the shaking subdues. No longer was the couple attempting to catch their breath, they lay in complete silence as Y/n was finally able to think clearly. Daniel sensed her change in mood, poking at her stomach to get her attention.
"What?"
"Feel better?"
She thought for a moment, "I think so."
"And who are we telling no?"
Another groan of irritation left Y/n's lips, "no one."
Daniel could say he was shocked but it would be a lie, "I figured."
"I'm sorry, I just can't"
Abruptly Daniel sat up, bringing his girlfriend up with him. "Y/n, I don't care, as long as you are happy. I will driver you to whoever's house and act all domestic in order to fill your heart." He paused pondering whether or not he should be honest or not. "You go because you don't want others to feel how your Dad makes you feel. You just want everyone to feel wanted because you didn't."
Y/n sharply inhaled because in some way Daniel had found a way to word those empty emotions she had carried around for years. The entire reason she forced herself to sit through fifteen rounds of twenty questions every december. He knew her better than she would ever know herself. "You're good, Ricciardo." Giggled the woman, "but just so you know I feel pretty wanted now."
"That's what I'm here for, Love."
120 notes · View notes
punkshort · 7 months
Text
Chapter warnings: language, descriptions of violence, death, graphic description of dead bodies, angst, smut (m masturbation), sexual tension x a million
A/N: please tell me if I should use any additional tags/warnings on this story. Also this is the longest chapter yet, I knew when I wanted it to end but I kept adding more detail and more scenes as I wrote and it just got away from me oops
Chapter Eleven
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Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak
AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)
Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.
Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters
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December 2003
Chicago, IL
The cold, bitter wind blew off the lake as you trudged through the snow. You had three layers underneath your thick jacket, but you were still freezing. You had forgotten just how cold it felt this close to the lake, but you kept eagerly pushing forward.
"I think I know where we are," you said excitedly to Joel, who had been unusually silent the past few miles. "There's this golf course a couple miles from my house, I think this is it."
"Can hardly see a thing out here," was all Joel said in response. You frowned, annoyed that he was bringing you down when you were finally starting to feel hopeful.
"What's wrong?" you asked, putting an arm out to stop him. He sighed and you watched as a puff of air leave his mouth then dance away on the wind before he turned to look at you.
"I'm just -" he stopped, rethinking his words. "I'm worried. If they ain't there, we need to go to the QZ, and I don't know if it'll be as easy to get out once we're in, like it was before." He paused before adding, "And I'm worried about you... if we don't find what you're expectin'."
"Don't be worried, I know it's a long shot. But I have to try. What else do I have?" You looked up at him through your eyelashes, dusted with snowflakes. You looked so beautiful that it took his breath away. He had to jam his fist into his pocket to keep himself from reaching out and cupping your face.
"You got me," he said, looking at you softly with his heart hammering in his chest. You inhaled sharply. He didn't mean it like it sounded. "We can go out west, see if we can find Tommy. It'll be warmer out there, too," he added nervously.
You could tell he was really trying, he looked anxious as he shifted his gaze to your surroundings, his hands fidgeting deeply in the pockets of his coat. You weren't even sure where you would even begin to look for Tommy, if that plan was even possible, but if he was willing to take you all this way to find your family, the least you could do is agree to try to find his.
"Yeah, okay," you said quietly. His fidgeting stopped, and he made eye contact with you again. "If I can't find my parents, that's a good plan. We can do that." You smiled reassuringly at him now, trying to ease his mind. He gave you a small smile in return and a quick nod, then looked back down at the snow, brushing his nose with the back of his gloved hand.
"Can we get moving, now? I'd like to get out of this cold soon," you said, stomping your feet lightly, trying to get more blood to circulate in your legs.
"Yeah, sure, let's get goin'," he said, and you headed across the golf course towards a wooded area in the distance. If this was the golf course you thought it was, then your neighborhood was just on the other side of those woods.
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You made it to the outskirts of your neighborhood just before dusk. The familiar tree lined streets just a few blocks away from your house made your heart flutter in anticipation. You knew you shouldn’t get excited; you knew it was unlikely they would be there, or even leave any type of note telling you where they went, but you couldn’t help it. This was where you grew up, this was your home. Your memories were etched in these streets: learning how to ride a bike, falling out of the tree and breaking your arm in your best friend’s backyard, trolling the streets at night as teenagers thinking you were tough and cool. A part of you was excited to show your home to Joel, but you quickly stopped that line of thought. He was not your boyfriend you were bringing home to meet your parents. He was your boss who agreed to help keep each other safe these past few months.
You both approached your street as darkness wrapped around you. Joel insisted you survey the street for a while to see if there was any movement before giving away your position. You reluctantly agreed, ducking behind a house on the corner, until you saw light moving inside a house. Your house.
“Oh my god,” you said breathily, “that’s my house. Joel!” you latched onto his forearm, dragging his attention onto you, “My parents!” you gasped.
You lurched forward, but Joel’s hand yanked you back. You angrily spun around to face him.
“I know you’re excited,” he began, clenching both his hands on your shoulders, “but we don’t know if that’s them, it’s been a long time. I think we should wait- “
You cut him off, saying, “It’s got to be them, what are the chances? C’mon, Joel, please!” you begged, clutching his wrist. His gaze bore into yours as you held onto him, and again you whispered, “please,”.
He groaned, unable to deny you when you looked so sweet and adamant. “Alright, just give me a few minutes, let me think of a plan,” he replied, at which your face broke out in a huge smile, still grasping his hand in yours as you bounced on your heels.
“Sure, whatever, I just want to see them,” you replied, looking back at the lights moving around your living room. You couldn’t believe it; your parents were alive! Joel had tried to curb your expectations, but it wasn’t even necessary, they were there. They were right there!
You approached your house in the darkness, unable to keep the smile from your face as Joel led you quietly across the street. He rapped his knuckles three times on the door and pulled out his revolver as he stepped to the side, ready for hostility.  When the door cracked open, it was not what either of you expected.
A man you didn't recognize peered out from around the corner. All you could see was his eye, but he looked terrified as he feverishly looked back and forth between you and Joel.
"Who are you?" he asked, the door still cracked.
"Who am I? Who are you?" you replied before thinking, "this is my house, what are you doing?"
The man faltered a moment and Joel stiffened on the other side of the door. "Are you armed?" the man asked nervously, unable to see Joel's revolver at his side.
"Goddamn right we are," Joel spoke up, his grip on the gun tightening, "you better start explain' yourself."
The man went to slam the door shut but Joel was anticipating it, shoving his boot in the doorway to stop him.
"Alright, alright, I don't mean any harm," the stranger said, opening the door up more and walking backwards with his hands in the air, "come in, I'm not armed, but please don't hurt us."
Us. You entered your living room. It looked the same, except some pieces of furniture were pushed closer together. You glanced up at the wall above the fireplace by habit, seeing your high school graduation photo still prominently displayed, then your eyes settled on a woman cowering in the corner of the room. She was taller than you and blonde, with wide blue eyes and bangs that brushed her eyebrows, and she was shaking with fear. You held your hand out to Joel and pushed his revolver gently towards the floor. He resisted until his gaze met the girl in the corner, and his arms went limp.
The man who answered the door stepped forward, and you noticed now he seemed much younger, maybe around you age. He kept his arms up in front of him as he stood in front of the woman, his eyes pleading.
"Please, we don't mean any harm, we are just looking for a safe place to stay." He repeated, his brown eyes anxiously shifting back and forth between you and Joel.
Joel met your eyeline, and you sighed. Obviously, your parents had moved on, which left you distraught, but these people were harmless.
"It's fine," Joel said, tucking the gun in the back of his jeans. "This is her house," he gestured towards you, "we're lookin' for her parents, you know anythin' about that?"
The man lowered his hands now that Joel put his gun away, and drifted backwards to stand next to the woman, who still looked shaken.
"No, I'm sorry, I don't know who used to live here. We just needed someplace safe to stay for the winter, and this neighborhood was abandoned. We just picked your house randomly, I'm so sorry." the man apologized again, truly looking upset he couldn't help you more. "I'm Tim, this is Lucy," Tim rubbed Lucy's back affectionately, trying to ease her nerves.
You both introduced yourselves and they relaxed a bit, sitting down on the sofa and chairs surrounding the crackling fireplace.
"You think havin' a fire is a good idea? What if someone sees the smoke?" Joel asked, rubbing his hands together.
"Hasn't been a problem yet," Tim replied, "until you two."
You shook your head. "We didn't notice the smoke, but we saw your flashlights."
Tim smacked his palm against his forehead. "The one day I forget to pull the curtains closed, dang it!"
Joel shook his head and learned toward to Tim, "You need to be more careful. You're lucky it was just us," he said, swinging his thumb between the two of you. "You need to be better prepared, you gotta protect her," now motioning towards the Lucy.
Tim's face paled and he gulped nervously, reaching out and clutching Lucy's hand. "Can you give us some pointers? We just left the QZ two weeks ago, we are doing our best out here but," Tim gave Lucy a tight smile, "we could use all the help we could get."
Joel's eyes shifted between Lucy and Tim, then back to you. He didn't want to waste his time helping some kids who clearly were in over their heads, but the look on your face when you turned to meet his gaze changed his mind. He was finding it impossible to say no to you.
"Yeah, alright. For starters, close the damn curtains and put out the fire," he told Tim gruffly.
"How will we stay warm?" Lucy spoke up for the first time, nervously casting her gaze between you and Joel.
"Blankets. Keep your bedroom door closed. Body heat. Set up tents to sleep in inside when the temperatures really drop," you replied curtly. "Only when absolutely necessary should you risk a fire. It's still November, there's a long winter ahead of you."
Joel smiled at you proudly as you spoke, Lucy catching his look. You had been picking up tidbits from him over the past few months, and he was happy to see you've been paying attention.
Tim got up to close the curtains as Joel began to put the fire out. Lucy turned to you, shooting you a nervous smile.
"Tim and I are already in the master bedroom, do you and your boyfriend mind taking the other one?"
"Oh, he's not my boyfriend," you replied quickly. Too quickly. Joel's shoulders tensed over the fireplace. "But no, that's fine, we're used to sharing a bed, and that's my old room anyway."
Lucy smiled at you politely before shifting her eyes between you and Joel curiously, her eyebrows scrunched together as if she was trying to figure something out, then relaxed her brow when Tim returned to her side.
"Alright then, we're going to get some sleep. Obviously, help yourselves to whatever's in the cupboards. It is your house, after all." Tim said, glancing at you with a quick smile.
You nodded and wished them good night as they headed towards your parents’ room. It was just as well: it would have been weird to sleep with Joel in their bed.
The door shut behind them and you got to work rummaging through the familiar cupboards, pulling out some canned food you could eat and without having to think, pulled open the drawer that housed the can opener, and then the silverware. Joel eyed you warily as he sat down at the kitchen table. He knew he wasn't your boyfriend, but the way you quickly corrected Lucy still bothered him.
You ate in silence, leaving one flashlight on between you. Joel looked around your kitchen, trying to imagine you growing up here. His eyes landed on the fridge that had some pictures stuck to it with magnets. Once you were finished eating, he picked up the flashlight and went to take a closer look.
"Oh, those were taken so long ago, I hardly even look the same," you said, noticing where his attention was drawn.
Joel tsk'ed, zeroing in on a picture of you when you were little and drawing with chalk on the sidewalk, then another where you were on a field trip with your 8th grade class, and a third picture where you were in a sparkly red dress for a homecoming dance with some boy's arm around your waist.
"As I said, those were taken a long time ago," you whispered, suddenly appearing beside him. He turned to look at you, really look at you: he could still see the similarities from the pictures in the way you smiled, the shape of your eyes, and the curve of your mouth.
You yawned and reached out to grab your backpack. "Follow me," you said quietly, not wanting to disturb Tim and Lucy.
You led Joel down the hall towards your bedroom and pushed the door open. You were pleasantly surprised that your parents left it exactly the same. You still had posters hung on your wall of the Backstreet Boys, Britney Spears, and Destiny's Child. The pictures that decorated your dresser mirror were the same ones you shoved in the frame from high school: pictures of you and your friends at dances, at a restaurant, the mall, and a couple with the same boy who was on the fridge.
"Who's the guy?" Joel couldn't help but ask.
"Oh, that's Matt. He was my first boyfriend. We broke up right before college," you said coolly as you pulled out some more comfortable clothes from your backpack and left to go change in the bathroom down the hall.
Joel took the opportunity to look casually through the items on your dresser, sniffing a few different half used perfume bottles and flipping through some CDs. It was strange to be here in your bedroom. He had never considered actually being here before, too focused on the journey and not really thinking about the destination. You returned to the bedroom with a couple of extra blankets in your arms.
"My parents kept these in the hall closet, I already made sure Tim and Lucy had enough," you explained, spreading the blankets over your twin bed. You swallowed nervously, realizing this bed was smaller than the beds you've previously shared. Joel excused himself to go clean up and change as you slid into the sheets, your eyes closing in relief at the familiarity of the room. You didn't realize you had nearly fallen asleep until the mattress shifted, and your eyes snapped open. Joel's leg and arm brushed up against yours as you tried to keep your body from going rigid at the contact. It was unavoidable, your bed was too small, so you forced your body to relax and tried not to overthink it.
"Tomorrow, I'll ask ‘em about the QZ. If they can share any details about the place, then I think we can go there lookin' for your folks," he whispered in the dark.
"Mhmm, sounds good," you whispered back, still struggling to control your reaction from being so close to him. Your whole body felt hot. You told yourself it was just the extra blankets, but you knew better. Whenever he had been this close before, it was in your sleep, your mind was unable to process his touch until he was already pulling away from you. You squirmed a little, trying to get more comfortable.
"You need more room?" he asked, about to move before you stopped him.
"No, I'm fine, thanks," you said quickly, and turned to your side, finally getting a few more inches between you.
Joel stared at your back longingly. It seemed like every day something reminded him of what he would never have. The way you shirked away from his touch and how you made it perfectly clear you were nothing more than companions to Lucy felt like a punch in the gut. It's been months, and he still couldn't get his mind off you. You were becoming a burning need and it was driving him crazy. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing sleep to come so he could find some peace.
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You woke up the next morning feeling well rested and warm. Really warm. With your eyes still shut, you burrowed into your bedsheets deeper to enjoy the warmth a little longer before having to wake up and face the frigid Midwest. You nuzzled your face forward and froze when your nose and lips met skin instead of a blanket. You slowly opened your eyes and found yourself face to face with Joel’s chest. You must have shifted around and ended up facing him at some point overnight. You stared at the exposed skin of his neck, taking in the little details of his tanned and pebbled skin, examining every birthmark you could lay your eyes on, then leisurely allowed your gaze to travel upwards where his prickly beard scattered over his neck, jaw, and upper lip. You inspected the patchy spots in his beard, seeing a few grey hairs sprouting up on the corners of his jaw. You noticed one bald spot resembled a heart, making you ache with the desire to press your lips there. His lips looked soft and plush, and you remembered how good they felt pushed against your own as they maneuvered your mouth open. His nose was sharp and angular, your favorite feature after his eyes. You were caught up in examining the wrinkles developing around his face when he woke up suddenly and his gaze immediately fixated on you.
You now realized you had your arms tangled around each other. Even your leg was wedged in between his under the blankets. You both lay on your sides, faces inches away, as you continued to stare at one another silently. Joel's eyes flicked down your face, examining you the same way you had just done to him. You felt your cheeks flush under the scrutiny, and you parted your lips to take in more air as your heart thumped wildly in your chest. Joel noticed the movement, his gaze fixed on your lips before flicking back up to your eyes. He exhaled softly through his nose, the puff of air blowing gently over your face. The air around you was thick with tension, causing you to shiver involuntarily. Joel lifted his hand from your hip to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your lips. You sighed and your eyes fluttered shut, unable to resist leaning into his touch this time. He took a moment to appreciate the gentle features of your face while your eyes were closed. He ran his thumb over your lips again, marveling at how soft they were. He swallowed nervously, moving his thumb from your lips to rest on your cheek, then leaned forward, closing his eyes when his nose tenderly nudged your own.
A sharp knock on the door made you gasp and jump away. You sat up in bed, clutching the blanket to your chest and Joel laid back with a frustrated groan, roughly running his hands up and down his face.
"Yes!" you yelped; your voice high pitched. Lucy's quiet voice on the other side of the door answered.
"Just checking on you, we have breakfast and coffee whenever you're ready!"
"Be right out!" you replied, voice still too high, no doubt the result of your nerves short circuiting. You stared down at your hands, unsure what to say.
"Did you sleep alright?" you finally asked, a question he usually was asking you. You fidgeted with the edge of the blanket and turned to look at him, anxiously waiting for his answer. He dragged his hands down from his face and let them rest on his stomach, then shot you a grin.
"Slept fuckin' great," he said, grinning wider as he watched your face heat up from embarrassment, and you bit your lip to hold back a smile of your own. It took everything he had to not grab you and pull you back into his arms as you stood up and walked to the door.
"I'll see you in a minute," you said shyly, and closed the door behind you. You headed to the bathroom first, giving yourself a moment to catch your breath. You hovered over the sink and stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your hair was a mess, and your face was flushed. You looked completely wrecked. What were you thinking? The tension was beginning to be too much, and maybe if you just had sex and got it out of your system, just one time, it would help clear your head. It doesn't have to mean anything. If that was all he was willing to offer you, would that be so bad? You could separate the physical from the emotional, right? You sighed, raking your fingers through your hair to tame it, and went to meet Tim and Lucy in the kitchen.
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"Fuck," Joel whispered out loud to himself after you left. He palmed his erection over his sweatpants, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. It had been so long since he last jerked off. It was risky, you could come back in here at any moment, but he was convinced he would be hard half the day if he didn't take care of himself.
He pushed his sweatpants down just enough to pull out his cock, squeezing his eyes shut as he gripped himself firmly, setting a fast pace right away, knowing it wouldn't take him long. He let out short, quick gasps as he replayed the events from that morning: the way he caught you looking at him when he woke up, the sound you made when you sighed into his hand, your soft lips. "Shit," he groaned through clenched teeth, his hips thrusting into his fist as he imagined those lips wrapped around his cock, looking up at him through your eyelashes, your face all flushed as you brought him into your mouth as far as you could before stifling a gag.
He frantically reached out to the bedside table where he saw a few scarves piled near the lamp, snatching one and catching his release just in time before he made a mess all over your bed. He laid there for a few minutes catching his breath and then tucked himself back into his pants, shoving the scarf deep under your bed. He reluctantly stood up to change his clothes and ran his fingers through his hair before heading towards the kitchen.
"Oh my goodness, that sounds awful!" Joel heard you saying as he walked into the room. The three of you sat around the table with mugs of coffee, some oatmeal and pop-tarts. He sat down in a chair next to you and poured himself coffee before digging into the food.
"It got really bad there, we just couldn't risk sticking around. From what others were saying, it was just as bad in any other city," Tim had finished saying. You turned to Joel, faltering for a split second when your eyes met, before explaining.
"They just told me the QZ is a shitshow. People are having their food rationed, they're doing grunt work for hardly anything in return, and some people are being attacked for their supplies and the soldiers don't do anything to stop it," you said, listing each item off on your fingers as you spoke.
"Well, it could have been worse. We heard stories about soldiers going to neighborhoods and filling up trucks with people, telling them they'll go to the QZ, but the trucks never arrived," said Lucy, eyes wide. "Rumor has it, there wasn't enough room, so the soldiers shot everyone and left them on the side of the road."
"Why would they do that?" you gasped, a hand over your mouth.
"Dead people can't turn into infected," said Tim sadly, "that's why we stuck it out in the QZ as long as we could."
"How long were you there for?" Joel asked, pausing to take a sip of the piping hot coffee. He looked around, frowning, wondering for the first time how they heated up food, and then he saw the fireplace roaring. His eyes flicked back to Tim angrily.
"I know, I know, we're gonna put it out, we just wanted to warm up a bit and make something to eat," he waved off Joel's glare with a chuckle, "besides, you couldn't even see the smoke last night."
"We were distracted, anyone else walkin' up this street will see it. I'm warnin' you right now," Joel scowled and pointed his finger menacingly at Tim, "if you get her hurt 'cause you ain't listenin' to me, I'm gonna make the QZ look like a fuckin' playground." The whole table was silent while Joel stared daggers into Tim's paling face. You were confused why Joel was so protective over Lucy, a stranger by all accounts, until the coffee kicked in and it clicked: Joel wasn't referring to Lucy. He was talking about you. You could feel the tips of your ears getting red.
You cleared your throat, trying to break the tension at the table. Then a thought occurred to you. You got up quickly and snatched a picture off the mantle over the fireplace, bringing it back to the table and slid it between Lucy and Tim.
"Did you ever see those two people in the QZ?" you asked desperately, your gaze bouncing between them as they examined the photo carefully. They frowned as they stared into the faces of your smiling parents, then slowly shook their heads.
"I'm sorry, I don't think so. But it was a big place," said Lucy, "it's possible they could be there, and we just never saw or noticed them!"
You sighed, thanking them anyway, and pulled the picture back towards you. Joel could see the disappointment in your eyes, and he wanted to take your mind off it. His gaze traveled to a corner of the kitchen where he saw a bow leaning up against the wall with a quiver of arrows. He nodded towards it.
"Where'd you get that?" he asked, standing up to inspect it. You looked up and gasped.
"That's mine! Oh my god, I had no idea my parents kept it."
"Yeah, we found it in the basement. We didn't have any weapons, so we figured it was better than nothing. I've never even used a bow before," Tim said. Joel picked it up and pulled on the strings a few times, then picked up a couple arrows and flicked the tips to test their sharpness.
"You mind if we borrow it? I wanna try to get us something substantial to eat. Looks like it's gonna be a nice day," Joel said, peeking out the window up at the sun, watching the icicles on the gutters drip.
Tim agreed, since it wasn't really his to begin with. You insisted on leaving your pistol on the counter with them, in case of an emergency. Lucy shuddered when she saw the gun, and Tim picked it up to put it in the cupboard next to the sink.
"She hates guns," he explained quietly to you as you and Joel got ready to head out to hunt. "After seeing so much brutality in the QZ, she can't stand them. I'm just trying to keep her calm and happy, so I do as she says." He smiled at you both as you walked through the front door. Before you walked away, Joel turned back to Tim and just simply said "Fire," in a forceful tone, to which Tim nodded and gave a thumbs up, closing the door behind you.
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The two of you walked silently down the street back towards the woods you came from, your heads swiveling every so often to make sure no one else was around. The sun was bright, and it was bouncing off the white snow, making you wince. You could tell as you walked that the few inches of snow that was on the ground was breaking up under the warmth. It would probably mostly be gone by nighttime, leaving muddy and dead grass to admire.
Once you reached the woods, Joel did his best to track any animal prints that looked fresh. He wasn't exactly an expert, but he knew enough. You followed closely behind him and kept your eyes on the trees for any movement. You had been walking around the woods for almost an hour before you stopped to rest. You found a fallen tree trunk elevated a bit from the ground that you could both comfortably sit on. You took a sip from your canteen as you glanced around. The forest was so still and quiet, it felt peaceful. You closed your eyes for a moment to savor it, unaware Joel was watching you closely.
Neither of you had mentioned anything about this morning. Joel felt a glimmer of hope inside him that maybe not all was lost, that maybe you could feel the same way he did. He wanted to talk about it, but he didn't want to scare you off and ruin the progress he had made. He cleared his throat, the noise grabbing your attention and making you open your eyes to look at him.
"So," he began, fiddling with the bow in his hands, his eyes cast downward, "I guess when we get back, we oughta ask 'em how they escaped from the QZ, then we can make a plan, get in and see if we can find your folks."
"Mhm, that sounds good," you said, watching him pick at the bow. "Maybe we should stay one more night, then leave early tomorrow."
He looked up at you now, unable to hide the shock from his face. He expected you would want to leave right away, eager to find your family. He scanned your face, seeing a small, playful smile, and he swallowed roughly. You wanted to stay another night for a reason.
His breath caught in his throat, and he could feel the warmth spreading across his cheeks. He hoped you would think the cold air was to blame as he shifted his weight on the log, dragging his gaze from you and onto the trees.
"Yeah," he finally squeezed out, "that's fine, we can leave tomorrow."
You bit your lip and turned your head away from him so he wouldn't see the smile that threatened to spill across your face.
You heard a snap of a twig nearby, drawing both of your attention as you fixated on the location of the noise. You froze when you saw a fat rabbit about 10 yards away, happily munching on some grass that had been exposed by the sun. Joel slowly reached down for the bow, but without looking you reached your hand out to place on top of his, stopping him. You motioned with your fingers to hand over the bow. You were more familiar with it, but it had been a long time. It was like riding a bike, right?
You loaded an arrow slowly into the bow, and drew back the string silently, closing one eye and aiming straight ahead. You let out a slow breath, then held it for half a second before letting go of the string. You cried out in happiness when the arrow made contact, killing the rabbit instantly. Joel swiveled his head towards you with a huge grin plastered on his face, beaming with pride.
You held the rabbit by the feet as you made your way back to the house, explaining you used to shoot archery in middle school but lost interest. The adrenaline from the kill combined with the excitement of what lied ahead for you and Joel was making you dizzy with happiness. You should have known something was going to ruin it.
You were a few doors down from your house, still smiling and teasing Joel about how much of a better hunter you were when his eyes fell on the front door of your house, and he froze. You stopped automatically, following his gaze to the front door of the house that was wide open. You both stood there for a minute, waiting to see if Tim was going to appear walking back inside with a bucket of snow to melt, but he never did. You turned to Joel, your eyes filled with worry.
"Did he leave the door open?" you asked shakily, hoping there was a reasonable explanation. Joel slowly shook his head, eyes still trained on the house. You looked around you now, trying to make out any footprints in the snow that may have been foreign, and Joel looked around at the houses on the street for movement. When it appeared to be quiet and still, you both begrudgingly approached your home, afraid of what you would find.
Joel stepped through the door first, his face immediately contorting in a grimace. He held his arm out to keep you back, but you refused, dropping the rabbit and pushing past him, gasping at the sight before you. Tim and Lucy were slaughtered, laying lifeless on your living room floor. Blood seeped into the beige carpet, making it spongy and red. Their eyes were open and staring up at the ceiling, their mouths agape as blood slowly trickled from their multiple stab wounds.
You bit back a sob, turning away to focus on literally anything except them. Joel desperately wanted to comfort you, but he first needed to know the bandits were gone, so he advanced into the small house, clearing each room before returning to find you standing in the kitchen, tears streaming down your face.
He briefly noticed the cupboards were left wide open, all the food taken, as well as the pistol you left for Tim, before he reached out to envelop you in his arms. You sank into his embrace, sobbing quietly into his shoulder. His eyes flicked back to the scene in the living room.
“That fuckin’ fire, I told him to put it out,” he said, staring at the small flames still licking at the embers.
You tried to argue with Joel about burying them, but he didn’t want to risk it. He wanted to get back into the forest behind the shelter of the pine trees. You had packed up your things quickly while Joel draped a couple sheets over their bodies. He made sure to grab the rabbit you killed before hurrying you out the front door and back towards the forest, not stopping until you were miles away and you begged him to take a break. He relented only when he found a secluded spot where he felt safe making a small fire to cook the rabbit. As you ate, he examined his map, trying to figure out where you were in relation to the QZ. He was fairly certain you were heading in the right direction, his eyes lifting up towards the sun and then turned the map around in his hands.  
“I think we’re here,” he told you, pointing to a green area on the map. “If we hook up with this road here,” he dragged his finger over to a thick line on the page, “then that will take us right into the city, and we can find the QZ.” You nodded, cleaning off your plates in what little snow remained on the ground. “You doin’ ok?” he asked you hesitantly. You stopped cleaning the plates to look up at him.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you assured him, “just… that could’ve been us. It scared me.” You held his gaze for a moment, trying to express how much he meant to you with a look. Joel shook his head and leaned forward to grip your hand.
“It ain’t gonna be us, we don’t make stupid mistakes like that, you understand me?” You nodded, your eyes raking over his face, wondering if your luck will eventually run out. He gave your hand one more squeeze before standing up, urging you to pack up so you could make it to the QZ before nightfall.
The road Joel had pointed out to you on the map was deserted, surrounded only by thick forests and a few abandoned cars as you made your way slowly towards the city. You kept your gaze on the ground in front of you, absentmindedly kicking a stone here or there as you walked beside Joel, who was on high alert for raiders and gripping his rifle tightly in his hands. The road curved and steered you towards an open field, where you could now see buildings not too far off in the distance. Suddenly, Joel stretched his arm out across your chest, stopping you both. You looked up at him, confused, then followed his gaze. Not far ahead, you could see a pile of bodies on the side of the road, just like Lucy had warned. You held your breath, unable to fathom how evil those soldiers must be to execute all those innocent people. He looked down at you, and you nodded to him, telling him you were ok, to keep walking.
You continued down the road, both of you unable to keep your eyes off the bodies as you got closer. You couldn’t tell how long they had been there, the harsh winter had likely preserved their bodies, but with the snow melting today, you could make out most of their exposed faces and clothes. Your eyes scanned over a few of the bodies on top and that’s when you saw them: their bodies twisted and lifeless, laid next to one another on the side of the pile.
You dropped to your knees in the middle of the street, not even registering the pain from the impact. Then your vision went blurry before blackness creeped along the edges. You forced out a choked cry, unable to control the volume of your voice as sobs shook your body. Joel’s arms were around you instantly, cutting off your view from your parents, and kneeled down in the street with you, holding you to his chest to muffle your screams, rocking you back and forth until your breathing slowed and you ran out of tears.
Chapter Twelve
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Taglist: @chiogarza, sparklejumpropequeen-777
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235 notes · View notes
cherry-holmes · 10 days
Text
Glimpse of a life with Javier Peña
Chapter 15
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MAIN MASTERLIST
Summary: Six months ago you spoke with Javi for the last time. Now, you tried to continue with your life without him.
SERIES MASTERLIST
Previous chapter
Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader
Word count: 6.9k
Warnings: Angst. Talk of depression. Mention of daddy issues. Brief description of reader’s body. I decide not to give more warnings to avoid spoilers, so keep the reading under your own responsibility, but in general this contains +18 material.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
I knew you
Leavin' like a father
Running like water, I
And when you are young, they assume you know nothing
But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss
I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs
The smell of smoke would hang around this long
'Cause I knew everything when I was young
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Finally, on December 2, 1993, Pablo Escobar died in Medellín, bringing an end to years of violence and fear to the country. Of course, the ghosts of evil would linger over for a long time. The narcoviolence was a vicious cycle that corroded everything it touched. But for now, the police of Colombia and the DEA had shown that there were still good people and hope. Even if ir wasn't completely true.
When you saw Steve's photo in the newspaper, you felt proud of him, of course, but you knew that Javier deserved to be there too. He had given many years of sacrificing his own safety and personal life to fulfill his duty. There was no other American who had done as much for his country than Javier Peña. He deserved recognition, he deserved to be decorated and rewarded for his years of service.
But instead, he was being judged for using unorthodox methods to do his job. It wasn't ideal, but it was effective in the end. Who hasn't looked for alternatives in their most desperate moments? They didn't deserve a man like him. And now he was paying the price.
You hadn't heard anything about him since that last call, six months ago. You didn't know if he had been judged or sentenced yet. And you weren't sure if you even wanted to know.
Days turned into weeks, and before you knew it, weeks had turned into months. While everything around you seemed to continue its normal course, you felt stuck in Bogotá. Memories of warm nights with him, hurried breakfasts in his truck, and cozy dinners at home lingered, haunting you like ghosts of a past life. You tried to distract yourself, to focus on the routine of daily life, but thoughts of Javier lingered like shadows in the corners of your mind. You wore the necklace he gave you on your birthday like a charm. It was your most precious treasure, the three pearls representing the love he had for you and you for him. Your fingertips sought it out every time you felt down, sometimes unconsciously.
You found it difficult to concentrate on something else, your thoughts constantly drifting back to him, to the uncertainty that clouded his future.
You started to think that maybe the problem lay within you, that you were somehow unworthy of having the man you loved beside you. Doubts ate away at your confidence, questioning your worthiness of love in any form. In the late hours of the night, you grappled with the echoes of your past, recalling the pain of your father's abandonment when you were just a child. That trauma left a deep hole of abandonment in your heart, a wound that never fully healed. And now, facing Javier's absence, it felt like history was repeating itself. The two men you had loved the most had left you, leaving behind a trail of broken promises and shattered dreams. Yes, you still had your beloved grandfather, José, but in those moments of anxiety and depression, you couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with you to not been worthy of love.
Your mother wasn't very helping either, as she wasn't very kind towards you. She never asked you how you were now that you came back or told you she missed you. And when everything with Javi happened, she made cruel comments, hinting that for him you were just another woman and that it was your fault for sleeping with him and not respecting yourself.
However, you had your sisters who supported you through the grief, and the love of your abuelo meant everything.
He was a lawyer, and he offered you a temporary job on his independent buffet while you find a job that suit your requirements.
Losing your dream job as a translator in a foreign country, enduring very difficult situations that put your life in danger, and losing the love of your life—all the trauma and heartbreak left a hole in your chest. It felt as though a part of you was missing, as though you were navigating the world with a piece of your soul torn away.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
The Saturday sun bathed the cobblestone streets in a warm, golden glow as you emerged from the church, your heart still echoing the hymns of worship. Beside you, your beloved abuelo walked, his arm linked with yours, his weathered face radiant with the peace of faith.
"What do you want to eat, papá?" You asked him.
"Sarita told me about a new restaurant," he answered as your mother joined his side, "She said they have delicious barbacoa and consomé."
"I don't think you should eat that, papá," your mother intervened, her brow frowned. From the look on her face, you knew she was going to confront Sara for craving such food for grandpa. "The doctor said..."
"The doctor said many things, María," he replied firmly. "I'm going to die anyway, so I'm gonna eat my birria!"
You smiled to your abuelo's stubbornness, and although you knew that your mother could be right, you just couldn't help but want to fulfill his cravings.
"Okay, papá, we all going to have barbacoa," you promised.
Before your mother could say anything to you, your nephews and nieces ran by your side, pointing towards the churro seller.
"¡Tía, cómpranos churros!" they shouted, and you found yourself outnumbered by them.
"Okay, okay!" You smiled as you watched them bouncing in front of you. "Everyone line up by height and ask the señor de los churros nicely for yours."
Your nephews and nieces cheered at unison and ran towards the vending cart. Both your sisters insisted on pay for their own children churros, but you told them that you wanted to buy churros for everyone.
As your sisters and their husbands agreed with your grandfather and your mother to all go to eat to the restaurant Sara propose to your abuelo, you tried to help the churro's vendedor not going crazy with all four children. All of them were under ten years old, so you can imagine how noisy and playful – and troubling – they can be.
As the kids devoured their churros, you juggled between keeping an eye on them and ensuring they didn't wander off too far. Their laughter filled the air, echoing against the cobblestone streets as they ran around in playful abandon.
Guiding your nephews and nieces back to your family, you barely noticed the bustling activity around you until a familiar voice pierced through the chaos. "I've always known that you look even more beautiful around kids."
You froze in disbelief, your heart skipping a beat at the sound of his voice. You turned around and saw Javier standing there. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you took in the sight of him. He looked different, yet somehow the same—the same rugged charm, the same warm gaze that had always captivated you. His mere presence was like a jolt of electricity, sending shivers down your spine and stirring emotions you thought long buried.
As the reality of his presence sank in, a whirlwind of emotions swept through you. Part of you wanted to run into his arms, to hold him close and never let go. Another part wanted to push him away, to confront him for leaving without a word, for breaking your heart with his silence.
But as you looked into his eyes, you saw the pain and regret reflected in his gaze—the same pain you had been carrying in your heart all these months. And in that moment, all your anger and hurt melted away, replaced by a flood of overwhelming love and longing.
"Javi?" your voice cracked, eyes inevitably flooded with tears. ''How...?''
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "I shouldn't have left you like that."
Without another word, you closed the distance between you, your heart pounding with anticipation. Javier's eyes softened as you reached out, your arms trembling as they closed around his torso. The touch was electrifying, sending a surge of warmth coursing through your veins.
You couldn't understand exactly how he was right there, what happened during all those months?, how the hell did he found you? But he was there, he was between your arms again... His warmth, his scent, his beating heart beneath your ear, were things you thought you would never feel again.
"¿Tía?" you heard the little voice of Ana, the youngest of your nieces, as she pulled the skirt of your dress. "Is this Javi? The boy you always cry for?"
You glanced down at her, innocent eyes wide with curiosity, and then back at Javier, uncertainty clouding your thoughts. How could you explain the complexities of love and loss to a child?
"Ana, come here," Silvia, her mother, approached to grab her. She looked at Javi and then back at your watering, reddened eyes. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah," you answered, a smile prompting on your lips, blush coloring your cheeks. It was the first time in a long, long time that you felt a genuine sense of emotion and happiness since you arrived in your birth-town. "Silvi, this is Javi. Javi, this is my sister."
Javier extended his hand towards Silvia, a warm smile gracing his lips. "Nice to meet you, Silvia," he greeted, his voice gentle and sincere.
Silvia's expression changed upon recognizing his name. Her eyes softened as she shook Javier's hand. "Likewise," she replied, her eyes flickering with curiosity. Of course, she had memorized his name and appearance through the photos you had shown her and Sara of your time in Colombia with Javi. Your sisters had wiped your tears and listened to your heartbreaking cries for him.
You saw your family approaching you, everyone seeming curious and expectant. Your hands were shaking, your heart felt like it could punch through your chest. So had so many questions, so many things to say to him. Suddenly, you felt overwhelmed.
"Buenas tardes," your abuelo approached to you. You recognized that look on his face, the same he had every time you or your sisters met a new boy. Your abuelo had always been the jealous kind, but in a sweet way.
Javier greeted your abuelo, extending his hand in a gesture of respect. "Mucho gusto, Don José. Javier Peña," he said, his voice resonating with genuine warmth, remembering your grandfather's name.
Your abuelo's eyes twinkled mischievously as he shook Javier's hand. "¡Ah! So you're the famous Javier," he replied, his tone tinged with playful teasing.
Javi looked at you with a playful arched brow, causing your face turned completely red, like a tomato. You were the most gorgeous tomato he had ever seen in his life.
"Everyone, I want you to meet Javier," you said, gesturing towards him with a smile. "Javier, this is my family."
Your sisters and their husbands exchanged glances, their eyes bright with curiosity as they greeted Javier warmly. "Nice to meet you, Javier," Sara said, extending her hand.
Javier shook her hand with a polite nod. "You too. You must be Sara."
Sara chimed in, her excitement palpable. "Yeah, it's great to finally meet you in person."
Your mother, who had been observing quietly, offered a reserved nod of acknowledgment, her expression unreadable.
As the greetings subsided, Silvia turned to Javier. "Hey, why don't you join us for lunch at the restaurant? We'd love to have you."
Before Javier could respond, you interjected gently, "Actually, if you don't mind, I'd like to have a private conversation with Javier first. We can catch up with everyone later this afternoon at home."
Javier's stomach churned at your words. "Have a private conversation" sounded like you were about to have a serious discussion. He wasn't expecting you to receive him as if nothing happened, as if he hadn't broken your heart. He was surprised and relieved when you hugged him upon seeing him, but he thought it might have been just a quick reaction, an impulsive action prompted by the heat of the moment.
Silvia's eyebrows raised in surprise, but she nodded understandingly. "Of course, hermanita. We'll see you both at home then."
With a collective agreement, your family bid you and Javier farewell, dispersing toward the church's parking lot with chatter and laughter trailing behind them. You turned to Javier, a mixture of anticipation and nerves swirling in your chest, ready to finally have the private conversation you'd been yearning for.
"So, shall we take a taxi?" you said finally.
"Actually, I brought my truck," he said, pointing at the park across the street, where you saw a red 90s Chevrolet Silverado.
"You drove all the way here?" The thought of him driving three hours, crossing the border, just to see you stirred a whirlwind of emotions within you. It was both overwhelming and heartwarming to know that he had gone to such lengths to be with you.
"Of course, from Laredo" he confessed.
As you walked across the street towards his truck, the atmosphere between you felt familiar, bringing back a flood of memories. Javier unlocked the truck and held the door open for you, as you settled into the passenger seat, the scent of his cologne enveloped you, filling you with a sense of comfort.
Once you were there, feeling overwhelmed by his return, after everything you had been throgh being away from him, thinking he was even in jail. It was too much, you barely could process it... You finally broke, as soon as Javi closed the drivers door, you started crying.
Javier's heart ached as he watched you cry, his own emotions swirling inside him like a tempest. He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering over yours, unsure if he should offer comfort or give you space.
He called your sweet name in a way only he could. You felt shivers just hearing it, reminding you of the power he had over you.
You turned to him, tears streaming down your cheeks, your eyes filled with a mixture of sadness, relief, and confusion. "Why, Javi?" you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "Why did you leave me?"
Javier's heart clenched at the pain in your voice, the anguish etched into your features. He took a deep breath, steeling himself to face the truth, to lay bare his soul before you.
"I thought I was doing the right thing for you," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was trying to protect you."
You wanted to ask again "why?" but you knew it was unnecessary because you understood why. He was trying to shield you from becoming attached to a convict, a man who was not physically free. It had taken you a long time to grasp the magnitude of the situation and his sacrifice. Javier Peña wasn't a selfish man.
"It's important to me for you to understand that at that moment everything seemed to be against me," he continued, his eyes staring at you with longing and desperation, as he feared you wouldn't want to hear him or wouldn't believe him. "Don Berna betrayed me and forced Judy Moncada to leave Colombia and spill everything about the DEA agent who was foolish enough to trust them. I was told that I had committed a federal crime by getting involved with Los Pepes."
For a moment, the gravity of his words left you speechless, grappling with the enormity of what he had endured. You knew firsthand the dangers and complexities of his work, but hearing the details of his ordeal sent a chill down your spine.
"I had to make a choice," Javier continued, his voice tinged with regret. "I couldn't risk your safety, not when everything was falling apart around me. I thought I was doing what was best for you, even if it meant sacrificing my own happiness."
New tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to him, your hand trembling as it touched his. In that moment, words seemed inadequate to express the depth of your emotions, the overwhelming rush of love and forgiveness that flooded your heart.
"I missed you," you confessed, your voice barely contained. "I was devastated. Not only for how things between us ended, but for thinking about what would happen to you..."
Javier's gaze softened as he listened to your heartfelt words. He reached out, gently brushing away your tears with his thumb, his touch sending a wave of warmth through you.
"I missed you too, every moment," he admitted, his voice filled with raw emotion. "Not a day went by when I didn't think about you. Te amo, y te juro."
"Javi?" you spoke softly, wiping your tears and turning your body to fully face him.
"Yes, bonita?" he said, and your stomach fluttered with thousands of butterflies that had been sleeping, waiting to hear that word he used to call you. Bonita, you'll always be his bonita.
"Kiss me already," you whispered, the words escaping your lips before you could hold them back.
With a tender smile, Javier leaned closer, his gaze softening as he brushed a stray tear from your cheek. The air between you crackled with anticipation, the weight of months apart dissipating with each heartbeat.
As his lips met yours, a surge of warmth washed over you, igniting a fire that had been smoldering deep within. You let out a shaky moan when his tongue met yours, sending electricity to your core.
Javi growled at your reaction. He was so needed of your touch, your kisses; that skin-to-skin sensation he sink in when he made love with you. Cause even during the darkest moments when he feared he might spend the rest of his life behind bars, he couldn't bring himself to be with anyone else. He was yours, in body and spirit.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
You and Javi were hungry and had so much to talk about. So you guided him through the city, searching for somewhere quiet to eat and converse. As he sat across from you at the table, perusing the menu, you still couldn't believe he was actually there—free and as handsome as ever. It felt like years had passed since Bogotá, the last time you saw him. Or maybe you suddenly died, your heart finally giving up missing him, and that was heaven.
Javi finally looked up from the menu, his gaze meeting yours. "Everything okay, sweetheart?" he asked, concern evident in his eyes as his broad hand reached across the table to touch yours.
"No... I mean, yes!" you said, your voice trailing off. "It's just... I'm so, so happy you're here, but I still can't process what happened."
Javi smiled, his eyes reflecting a mixture of tenderness and longing. "I promise, mi vida, I'll never leave you again," he vowed, his words a silent promise to cherish and protect you for as long as he lived.
The waiter approached, and you both placed your orders. After she left, you spoke again. "How did you find me?" you asked with genuine curiosity.
Monterrey was a sprawling metropolis, and in the '90s world, finding something or someone without an address or a phone number was no small feat.
Javier leaned forward, his expression radiating warmth. "It wasn't easy, but I remembered when you told me about going to church every Sunday with your family," he began, his voice low and intimate. "I recalled the name of the church and the municipality, so as soon as I arrived in the city, I searched for it. It took me all day yesterday, but I managed to get a lead, and it paid off. I found the right one."
You nodded, deeply impressed by his determination and resourcefulness. He was a proper DEA agent who spent years looking for and taking down sicarios. Of course, he was going to find his girlfriend on the first try. It was very sweet how he would do anything just to be with you, though, to have you back.
"I was fuckin' terrified that you were angry with me for leaving you like that," he continued, his voice tinged with regret. "Or worse, that you may have someone else already."
You looked at Javier, sensing the vulnerability in his eyes, and felt a pang of empathy. The thought of him fearing your anger or the possibility of you being with someone else touched you deeply.
"Javi, I could never be angry with you for trying to protect me," you said softly. "I was angry and devastated at first, I'm not gonna lie," you confessed, your chest aching with memories of those endless nights of overthinking and tears. "But it wasn't directed towards you, but towards life. I couldn't accept the decision you had to make, but with time, I came to understand that you only wished the best for me, and it was very sweet and unselfish."
You reached your delicate hand across the table to grasp his. "And as for someone else, there's never been anyone else for me. It's always been you."
His eyes softened, relief flooding his features as he squeezed your hand gently. "You're the only one for me, too, bonita. You're the best thing that could ever happen to this son of a bitch."
You leaned forward to kiss his lips. The familiarity of his touch was overwhelming and comforting at the same time.
When the meal was over and both of you were back in his truck, you asked him where he was staying.
Javier glanced at you, his expression thoughtful as he considered your question. He mentioned a hotel downtown, and you recognized it from what you had heard.
"You can stay a couple of days. I want to show you the city and introduce you properly to my family, if you don't mind," you proposed.
"Me encantaría pasar todo el tiempo del mundo contigo, mi vida preciosa," he said, and you flushed at the sweet nickname. "Actually, I was thinking about moving to a hotel closer to your house."
"That won't be necessary. You can stay with me," you offered without hesitation, feeling a rush of warmth at the idea of having him close again. "I'm living with my abuelo y mi mamá."
"I don't want to be a bother," he began, but you took his hand gently and looked into his puppy eyes.
"You're family now, and family never bothers," you assured him. "My abuelo has a spacious house, and you can stay in the guest bedroom. You know, we can sleep together..."
"That's okay, baby. I understand," he agreed, leaning over to place a kiss on your lips. "So, where do you want to go now? Wanna go home?" he asked, turning on the gear.
"Actually," you began, your cheeks burning and your heart pounding with anticipation, "I was thinking that we could go to your hotel."
With a mischievous grin, Javier glanced at you, his eyes alight with excitement. "Can we?" he asked, his voice filled with playful anticipation.
You smiled shyly, nodding as your cheeks turned cherry red. "Unless you want to spend the evening elsewhere."
Javier's eyes sparkled with amusement as he caught your playful tone. "Oh, I'm perfectly content to spend the evening wherever you desire," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of mischief.
You chuckled softly, feeling a rush of excitement tinged with nervousness.
"Be careful what you wish for, baby," he added, his voice filled with longing. "I've missed you so damn much."
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
The hotel room was nice, elegant and spacious. But of course you didn't noticed that at first, as you were very busy devouring Javi's mouth. He guided you towards the bed, hands squeezing the soft flesh of your hips; yours cupping his head.
"I love you," he muttered against your mouth, pausing briefly as you unbuttoned his shirt. "You don't have any idea how much I needed you. I couldn't breathe..."
His voice wavered with emotion, and you couldn't help but notice the vulnerability in his tone. Your fingers brushed against his lips, a silent gesture of reassurance. You still had a lot of questions, things that you would like to know, but you were sure that you had a lot of time to do it. For example, when his next move was to get rid of his shirt and you saw the scar on his side, where you knew he had been shot. Your fingers traced the damaged skin, your throat constricting at the sight of him being hurt, where he could have lost his life...
In that moment, you didn't want to cry anymore, to regret things that, fortunately, were in the past now.
"I'm here," your voice was barely a whisper, but he was close enough to hear every word. "I'm not going anywhere."
Javi nodded in agreement, leaning in to meet your lips once again. His skilled fingers unzipped the back of your dress, sending shivers all over your body as his fingertips met your skin. The light fabric pooled around your feet, his gaze darkening as it roamed over your body with desire.
His hands captured your waist, caressing the skin of your ribs and hips. His touch felt desperate, yet gentle. His fingers traced the exposed, soft skin at the edge of your bra, then smoothly moved to unclasp it, freeing the lace that covered your breasts.
You were hypnotized by the waves of heat emanating from both your naked torsos. Restless to relive that skin-to-skin sensation you longed for so much.
"God, how I missed your body," he whispered, almost unconsciously, as he devoured you with his eyes.
Your cheeks flushed even more, a shy smile appearing on your lips. "And I missed your touch, Javi," you confessed back.
With a mischievous grin, Javier glanced at you, his eyes alight with excitement. "Did you?," his voice filled with playfulness. "Did you touch yourself when you missed me?" He wanted to know. You nodded, an innocent gesture that made his cock throb on his pants. "C'mere. Show me," he ordered, leading you to the bed, where he had you lie back in the center.
Javi knelt in front of you, between your legs, your core aching with anticipation. "C'mon, take your panties off," he ordered, and you gladly obeyed.
Pushing your hips up, you grasped the edges of your panties with your fingers and began to slide the garment down your legs.
He couldn't help but hiss when he saw the glistening between your folds, where your honey pooled for him. "Touch yourself, baby, just like how you did when you were thinking of me," he whispered.
You traced a path on your skin, from the place above your belly button, down your body until your delicate middle finger met your slick. Javier was mesmerized as he watched you move up and down along your pussy, taking extra care every time you reached your clit, causing little whimpers to escape from your lips.
Suddenly, Javi felt his pants getting tighter; it was almost painful not to free himself. His hands went to his belt, and he started working on it. "Keep going," he encouraged you, as your eyes followed the glorious path of pubic hair that preceded his cock. You bit your lip, intensifying the movements on your pussy, the sound of your wetness filling the room.
"Don't be shy," he said, his voice thick with lust. "That little pussy looks so good."
You took his word and inserted one finger into your warm body. His breath quivered at the sight; he couldn't contain himself anymore.
"How does it feel?" he asked, as he took his hardened cock out of his briefs. You whimpered at the sight, your walls clenching, as if they were screaming to be stretched by its length. Javi took himself in hand and started jerking off to satisfy his own itch.
"G-good," you mumbled. It was true, but you knew it was nothing compared to the feeling of his cock inside you. So you added a second finger to try to calm your urgency, the gushing sounds surrounding you as you moved your fingers in and out of your pussy. But it wasn't enough. You wanted him.
"Javi..." you murmured.
"Tell me, bonita," he responded, his voice filled with anticipation. "Tell me what you want."
"I want you," you said, without stopping your movements.
"You want me? You want this?" he teased, showing off his cock right in front of you. A pearl of precum glistened on its tip, veins pulsating along its length. Your mouth watered at the sight. "C'mon, take it. It's yours."
He didn't have to tell you twice. You stopped what you were doing and knelt on the mattress to press your body against his. Your hand went directly to his cock, eliciting a growl from his chest.
Javi's cock fit perfectly in your tiny hand as you moved it up and down while kissing him passionately.
You let your body fall over his, and he didn't hesitate to allow himself to be placed underneath you. Your lips then moved to his neck, traveling down to his chest, his stomach... When he realized you were actually going south, he took your chin and made you look at him.
"That's not necessary..." he clarify. He wasn't expecting that.
"I want to," you insisted.
Without another word, you positioned yourself right over his cock, taking it in your hand and placing a kiss on its tip. "Fuck..." he reacted.
You were unsure what to do, as it was the first time you'd done it. You only wanted to make him feel good.
So you tried licking its head, the salty taste on your tongue making your pussy clench around nothing. Then, you attempted to take the head into your warm mouth. You had to open your mouth wider than you expected, your hand gently placed on its base. It was too big, hard, and too long.
You bobbed your head at a constant rhythm, encouraged by the moans and hisses he began to let out. Javi's hand went to your hair, gathering it into a ponytail, both to let you work easily and to clear his view. "Good job, baby," he praised.
When you tried to go further, its head at the back of your throat made you gag, so you had to take a breath. "Take it easy," he said reassuringly as he tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. "You're doin' amazing."
You went back to it, but this time a little lower. "Holy shhh..." he growled, feeling the wetness and warmth of your tongue licking his balls. They tasted salty, heavy on your lips. You closed your hand around his length, moving it up and down to please him. Slurping noises filled the room, amplifying the intensity. "You look so pretty taking my cock like that baby."
You alternated between using your mouth and your hand on his cock and his balls, growing more confident with each movement, trying to take him deeper as you could. Your mouth felt like heaven for him, but he needed to stop. He wanted to fuck to you properly instead of just cum on your tongue. There would be another chance for that.
After a moment, Javi sat on the bed and gestured for you to do the same. You could barely catch your breath before his mouth captured yours, his arm around your waist. You knelt in front of him, providing easy access to your breasts, and he didn't miss the opportunity, capturing one of your nipples into his mouth. You threw your head back, moaning at the sensation, your fingers tangled in his hair.
He worshipped your body, squeezing your hips and back, massaging your ass with his broad hands. Then his fingers found your soaked pussy, taking advantage of how wet you were as he introduced one of them inside you. You whimpered, moving your hips over his hand, desperate to quell the need for him. He added a second thick finger, stretching you so damn good. They slipped in and out without effort, and Javi could feel your slick running down the bare palm of his hand.
Javi licked the sensitive skin of your nipple before shifting to your other breast. He sucked and played with the tip of his tongue on the nipple, just like he did when he played with your clit, like a starved man.
"Javi..." you whimpered.
Once he was satisfied with how wet you were, he guided his cock to your entrance as you instinctively lowered your hips. Both of you moaned as he made his way inside you, stretching your walls. The sensation was painfully familiar for both of you, the feeling of being connected in an intimate, raw way. It was as if you were born for each other, like you belonged together beyond the physical realm.
He didn't waste any time, going straight to help you move over him. Once you understood the assignment, your hips started working almost on their own. "That's it, bonita, give it to me."
You could feel him very deep inside you, his tip brushing against the entrance of your cervix, his balls thrusting against you every time you went down. 
Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to kiss him, engaging in a battle of tongues and a tangle of legs.
"Your cock feels amazing, mi amor, la extrañé mucho," you whispered in his ear before you bite his earlobe.
"That's why you wanted to suck my cock?" he asked, his fingers gripping tighter on your hips, urging you to move faster. "My fuckin' dirty girl, so right for me..."
"Wanna see how dirty I can get?" placing your hands on his chest, you pushed him back so he could lie down again.
He was pleased with the view. The curves of your body, every roll, every pore, every freckle, every stretch mark. You were so sexy and gorgeous.
He tried to reach for your body, but you took his wrists and placed them over his head. You started moving your hips: up and down, front and back. At first, it was slow, savoring every inch of his cock slipping inside you. Then, you moved faster, riding him as whimpers escaped from your mouth, joining the skin-to-skin sound of your bodies thrusting together. Your hands went to his chest for more balance as you rode him.
"That's it, baby. Don't stop...fuck..." he grunted, his hands on your ass to help you keep going.
You slowed down when your legs began to ache, leaning down to capture his lips. His broad, warm hands caressed your hair, trailing down to your shoulders and back until they reached your waist. With a swift, smooth movement, Javi turned you around. Before you could process it, your body was beneath his, and he penetrated you again. This time, the soft moan you made when you felt him inside was silenced by his mouth.
"I love you, bonita," he promised, moving his pelvis against yours.
With your hands cupping his head, little whimpers escaping your lips, you echoed the sentiment. "I love you so much, Javi."
His thrusts grew harder and faster, his arms bearing his weight to avoid crushing you. His growls and whimpers were music to your ears. Your lips caressed the soft skin of his neck, your hands roamed everywhere along his broad back. He was lost in you, shivers crossing his entire being every time he reached that deep spot inside you, eliciting cries of his name from your lips.
"You like that, bonita? Hm?" he breathed out, his voice captivated by his own pleasure. "Fuck, I love your pussy."
Your orgasm was so close, he could tell by the way your walls clenched around his length, and the rivers of your nectar emanating from your cunt. You tried to warn him, but you could only mumble as your body shuddered beneath him. "I know, baby... Fuck, I'm gonna cum too."
You felt how he was doubtful about his next move. He wanted you to come, of course, but he was so dangerously close to his own release that he needed to be careful not to come inside you. But you were so horny and lost on the pleasure that you knew you want his load dripping out your pussy.
So you tangled your legs around his torso, forcing him inside you. "I'm gonna cum..." he warned.
"It's okay... I want you to fill me up..." you moan.
"Yeah? That's what you want, honey?" He cooed, his lips placing soft, wet kissed on your jawline.
You nodded, "Ye-yes! Fuck, Javiii!" that's the only thing you could say, as his movements were almost erratic, hungrily against you.
"I'm gonna fuck a baby into you... What about that?" he grunted, the mere thought of it made the both of you shiver with pleasure.
"Yes! Oh my... Yes! I-wa.... I'm wanna have your baby, Javi," you mumbled, so lost on the moment that you couldn't even think about the weight of the words you spoke.
"I'm gonna cum so deep on you that you're gonna smell like me for days, baby."
Those were the words that made you finally lost it. Your entire body seemed to implode for a moment before it exploded on a devastating orgasm. Throwing your head back against the mattress, your nails digging on the muscles of his arms and toes curling as your squirted on his cock. A silent scream of pleasure took the shape of Javi's name.
With one last final thrust, Javier followed you reaching his release between deep-voice whimpers and grunts of your name over and over again. You felt his warm load filling up, mixing with your slick, making you clenched even more, milking him so damn good.
As he felt himself softening, he pulled out and lay beside you as both of you tried to catch your breath again. Finally, Javi wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest, the warmth of his body comforting against your skin. You lay there together in silence, the only sounds filling the room were the rhythmic beating of your hearts and the soft exhales as you both recovered from the intensity of your lovemaking.
After a while, Javier felt your body shake a bit, and it wasn't long before he heard you sniffing. Were you crying? He tried to see your face, but you hid from him with your face against his chest. It was evident that you were crying. He felt a pang in his chest, concern washing over his face as he tried to make you look up at him.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice charged with worry and guilt. "Did I hurt you?"
"No, no," you rushed to say, wiping your tears with your fingers as his brushed your hair and placed it behind your ear. "You didn't do anything. I'm just so happy."
Javier's expression softened as he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you protectively. "I'm here, mi amor," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'm not leaving you ever again."
You melted into his embrace, feeling safe and loved in his arms, the bliss of your orgasms still lingering on your bodies. After a moment of silence, he spoke again, his fingers gently tracing circles on your back. "I really meant it."
Struggling not to fall asleep, since you still had to return to your grandfather's house, you asked, "What?" Your voice was soft, barely audible above the hushed rhythm of your breathing.
"I want to have babies with you." His words hung in the air, tinged with both sincerity and excitement.
You flushed, a warmth spreading across your cheeks as you processed his declaration. Your heart started to beat faster, and you didn’t even think he was completely serious yet.
"Well, we have to get married first, then," you replied, a hint of playfulness in your tone.
"I know,” he added, determination on his tone, “I'm going to ask your grandfather for your hand tomorrow." His eyes meeting yours with unwavering resolve.
"Are you serious?" Your voice was tinged with surprise, a mixture of disbelief and anticipation.
Javier nodded, his gaze softening as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Absolutely serious," he affirmed, his tone earnest. "¿Quieres casarte conmigo?”
Your heart fluttered at his words, a rush of emotions welling up inside you. New tears of joy fell down your cheeks as you nodded repeatedly. "¡Sí! Sí quiero, Javi. Quiero casarme contigo," you admitted, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
"Then it's settled," he declared, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, pulling you closer to him again. "Tomorrow, I'll talk to your grandfather, and soon after, we'll start planning our wedding."
You nestled closer to him, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. You still couldn’t believe what was happening in that moment. Just that morning, your heart ached with his absence, and you couldn't imagine seeing him ever again. If someone had told you that same afternoon you would be in his arms again, making love with him, and practically engaged, you wouldn't have believed it. You would have thought it was a cruel joke. And yet, there he was with you, vowing to share a life together.
NEXT CHAPTER
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lo1k-diamonds · 19 days
Text
Call You Mine💜 Chapter 1
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PAIRING: idol!Yoongi x OC
SUMMARY: Freya despises everything soulmate-related, but one day her soulmate shows out of nowhere and turns everything upside down.
"Why didn’t you reach out to me?" Her eyes watered in response to his words and he was certain. "You knew who I was, how I was suffering." It pained him to say so, but he knew it was true. It had to be a conscious decision. And he had to know why.
A slowburn rejection soulmate story to make you fall in love with Min Yoongi (again).
WORD COUNT: 7.4k (Total: 297k)
GENRE: Rejection, Soulmate AU, s2l
RATING: Explicit
WARNINGS: angst, huge ass story that is an emotional rollercoaster, rejection (tho it has a happy ending), OC has a strong personality and flaws (all my characters do really), desperation, explicit sexual content, semipublic I guess?, riding, consensual but there's conflict, soulmate bond is inescapable and shit happens
(You can also read it on AO3, originally posted in December 2022)
A.N. I have this poll I've been meaning to do about my soulmate series and to do so, I thought I should probably introduce those stories first 😅😋Yoongi's story is the third of the Soul Palette Series (but the one that started it all). Again, it is a realistic rejection soulmate story because I wanted a story where the female character doesn't lose her backbone as soon as [insert soulmate] shows in the picture/has sex. Lots of angst and fighting until the stars align ;)
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"Poetry, music, a painting, they don’t save the world. But they save the minute. And that is enough.” Matilde Campilho
What were the odds?
“Freya, are you listening to me?”
“Yeah, I am,” she answered nonchalantly, looking out through the car window.
Her mood soured with the conversation and the woman steering the wheel sighed. “Whenever the subject of soulmates gets brought up you just become…” Freya gave her an ice-cold look from the shotgun seat. That made the woman mad, “Insufferable.”
Freya smirked through her pain and looked away again. 
The woman sighed again, “We’ve been friends for almost nine years. Don’t you think I know you by now?”
Freya placed her elbow on the car door, supporting her chin on her hand. Her fingers covered her mouth strategically. She knew the lecture that was about to happen, Lidia never missed a chance to try and change her mind about this topic. She didn’t have the heart or energy to fight it anymore.
“Soulmates are each other's halves,” she started and Freya just clenched her jaw. “You were born with one, two parts of a whole.” Freya couldn’t have heard it or learned it better if she was in primary school. Sarcastic thoughts like that would flood her every time Lidia pulled that sermon on her. “Just because barely half the population finds theirs, does not mean yours isn’t out there.”
“Sure, he might be out there, but I wish to be like the other half of the population. You know, the one that was able to live happily by being with the people they chose to be with,” Freya said with a hint of victory. 
“Fair, but it doesn’t diminish the fact that their soulmates are still out there. They might have never met, but that doesn’t mean one should just ignore it or—”
“I’m not ignoring it,” Freya cut, annoyed. “I told you, I never met that person. Why would I lie!”
“I don’t know, maybe because you hate the idea of soulmates so much!” Lidia yelled back, fortunately without taking her eyes out of the traffic. Motorcycles were insane, trying to get in between the moving cars to get ahead. Freya was happy it was Lidia driving them to the venue. Lidia took a deep breath, “If something happened to him, you know you can tell me…”
Freya sighed, feeling stuck in the same loop, “I wouldn’t know, I’ve never met him.”
She hoped that would be the end of it, for now at least. Lidia seemed fixated on the idea that she was lying about her soulmate, that something tragic had happened, or that she was avoiding the person. Which didn’t make any sense according to her own rules, for fuck’s sake! Wouldn’t she be sick and whatnot if that was the case?
“Fine,” Lidia relented, as she always did when confronted with Freya's bitterness. “I would just like you to be open-minded when you do.”
Freya bit her tongue to hold back her remark and let the car fall into silence. She hated that topic and now it was stuck in her mind. She had never met that person and she never wanted to. She had no open-mindedness to offer because she would never be okay with it. And she wished she could just yell it out until it got through Lidia’s thick sand castles and baby cupids and stupid pink heartshaped butterflies: meeting your soulmate was terrible.
Sure they were supposed to be your other half, but they could literally be on the other side of the world. With different cultures and upbringings, you could be paired with a terrorist, misogynist, psychopath, the list went on. Who was it to say that person would actually fit your personality and values? Absolutely nothing, as history showed. Quite frankly, the fifty percent of the populace that never met them were the lucky ones. Never meeting them meant never experiencing withdrawals of absence. Never bending or nullifying your beliefs and values for the sake of someone else that, though unique, was probably not even the best match for you.
Because let’s face it: though science had proven its existence, who was to say the bond meant the same to everyone, or that it should be the same? For scientists, it was perceived more as an absolute physical attraction that would lead to the best procreation. That had nothing to do with love, with fated partners, or whatever else was mediatized. It all looked more like a romanticized publicity trope used to sell way more chocolates, flowers, and cards than Valentine’s Day. Or to make people feel misfitted and incomplete until they did find that person, instigating them to consume goods, programs, matchmaking events, anything that could speed that along. Why should anyone live with the unrelenting weight of not having met someone they never needed? That could ruin them, their lives? It was all terrible!
She would have known if she had met that person. Though she in general avoided physical contact, the mere presence of the other person was supposed to be enough for the both of them to know. She of course had no idea what it would feel like, soulbonds were also reported with different intensities for different people, but she was sure she’d know if that fateful moment ever occurred. Moreover, she would feel the withdrawal. Though tolerable to some, especially with medication, it would be impossible not to feel anything. She knew that’s how it would always play out: even if she avoided them and ran through the nearest exit as soon as she felt the bond, the need would hunt her, both of them, for as long as they lived. That was something she was willing to endure, though she honestly hoped she never had to. If she never met him, she’d never have to. So, she wished she never would. Simple.
Freya glanced at Lidia, who was now pulling over the security of the event and showing them her badge. Lidia couldn’t possibly understand her standpoint, and as much as they would fight about it, Freya wasn’t interested in shattering her dreams. If Lidia could one day live happily ever after with her fated mate and actually be happy, Freya would gladly support her. She just couldn’t be deluded by the idea like Lidia.
Their nine years of friendship were very precious to Freya. Though the focus on her career had led her astray from many of her friendships, Lidia always stuck by her. She was one of her dearest friends. She would always call and catch up on her, whether Freya was at a fashion runway, strike, or in a warzone. Maybe that was why Lidia was the only person she ever gave two cents to in regard to soulbonding. Everyone else was free to be their own idiot, but Lidia was her idiot. Freya didn’t want to see her get hurt. Lidia felt the exact same way, she knew that. It was the only reason they fought about it in the first place.
Lidia parked the car in the underground parking lot and Freya was forced to move. They were still by the entrance of the arena, the lights from the streets made their way to where they were. Lidia opened the trunk and Freya got her material ready. There was noise in the air and she kept trying to figure out what it was.
Lidia closed the trunk when Freya gave the nod and Freya’s blue eyes widened in shock. Beyond the entrance, behind the security barrier, there was a sea of people. People chanting, jumping, and screaming. 
Lidia was smirking at the sight, “Not your typical warzone, is it?”
Freya pulled her camera that was hanging on her chest to her face, regulating the lens to focus on them. They were mostly girls shouting, around their twenties, some if that. They had colorful banners with letters stamped on them and sticks with a ball that seemed to shine.
Click.
She looked briefly at the photo on the view screen, then up again at them. She was surprised.
“No, but similar. What could it be that makes them act like that?”
Lidia was passing her her media badge to access the event.
“Boys.”
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He woke up from his nap, dazed. He kept having the same dream. He had had it for a while and in the beginning, he couldn’t remember it properly. Now, he could. No faces or characteristics, but he knew it was always the same person he dreamt of. When he told it to the others, they thought it had to be his soulmate and he had found the idea hilarious at first, that was impossible. But then, with the years, he started wondering. Was it that far-fetched that there was a connection between them if they were two pieces of the same soul? Maybe their pieces had an incredible bond and that was why he could dream of her.
Her. He couldn’t remember much, but he did remember that, which brought more weight to the possibility of her being his soulmate since soulmates were always of the opposite sex. For him, love or a partner was always about the connection, the person, not about their appearance or gender. He never felt like he had a gender preference because he would always look at personality first, but his soulmate would be female and he was okay with it. Though honestly, despite dreaming of her occasionally, he couldn’t conceive a relationship — he hadn’t had a serious one in almost ten years.
Life made it that way, and he accepted it. His career had taken off in a way he had dreamed and actually achieved. He was surrounded by amazing people, professionals, friends, and family alike. He had his fans, who supported him and allowed him to live every single one of his dreams, from making music, to not worrying about money, to being able to support his family comfortably. Did he ever wonder if loneliness was a price to pay for it all? Yes. Did he think it was? No. He wasn’t looking for a relationship, or his soulmate. They would show in due time. He was living, bit by bit, in tranquility.
He of course thought about what would happen if he met her. Seokjin and Hoseok had found theirs and they were exceedingly happy. They gave all others the hope of a lifetime of happiness and fulfillment, though none were particularly searching for it. ARMYs didn't know about their discovery, they had decided it that way. Not even necessarily because of the fans, but because of the sasaengs and paparazzi. The lack of privacy would be overwhelming and the men didn't wish to ruin their soulmates' lives.
If anyone had to choose who appeared the least interested in the whole soulmate trope it would probably be him. Yoongi was known for many things, he was aware, and the top included being snarky, lazy, and perfectionist. Some probably saw him as the most cold, obsessed with his music, a workaholic. It was somewhat true, he shrugged. Ideas were constantly in his mind and he was the happiest if he was putting them to life. That meant spending a lot of time by himself in the comfort and safety of his studio, space, and mind. It also meant he slept a lot. None of those characteristics meant he actually was cold or uninterested in finding his soulmate. Quite on the contrary, sometimes it felt it was the exact piece that was missing. He lived with it, but he wouldn't deny it or reject it if it happened. He would welcome her wholeheartedly, he had been waiting for some time now.
There was pressure to perform in front of thousands of people that night, as it was BTS’s last tour date in Europe, in Berlin. He was very tired, exhausted really, as were the others, but they were persevering. They had to, the quiet that would come after would be both a soothing balm and a curse. They had to make the best of it while they could, no matter what.
He was reflecting on that, at the backstage lounge after having slept a nap. The others were getting ready for the concert in other ways, though they were all quiet as the stress was building up. He walked out to reach the stylist's room and get his makeup done, knowing he would be the last one to do so when he felt it. He stumbled against the door awkwardly, completely taken by surprise. He looked around in shock, meeting the makeup artists’, hairdressers’, and stylists' surprised looks. 
She was there. She was there somewhere.
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He was there somewhere. Freya was certain of it. She knew she would know when it happened and she knew. She was terrified, petrified in place, but she knew.
“Freya, what’s wrong?”
Lidia sounded worried and Freya blinked blankly for a second. She had fallen against the wall and was now leaning against it. People were passing in between them in that corridor in both directions, oblivious to them, most speaking a language she didn’t understand.
Freya immediately forced a smile, dismissing her question. “I’m fine, I just tripped.”
Lidia accepted it because, in the turmoil of people running around backstage, that wasn’t surprising. Little did she know what happened. Freya was nearly sweating from nervousness, her body too hot to handle the May warmth. 
How could that be, she thought, while following Lidia. She had lived in Berlin her whole life, why would it have to happen at a boy band concert? It made no sense, at all. On one hand, she had been super lucky to never stumble on him her whole life. On the other, really, a boy band concert? What if it was one of the fanboys outside?
That was her worst nightmare coming to reality. She wasn’t one to wallow in self-pity, but for fuck’s sake she almost had it. She almost lived a life in ignorance, free of fated bullcrap and withdrawal symptoms. Now she was facing her options: to run away immediately, to finish the job and hopefully never stumble on him, or to search for him. The latter wasn’t an option, and to leave without finishing the job was unprofessional. Lidia had asked her to be there to photograph that piece, the last concert date of the boy band in Europe, and she felt obligated to carry it through. They had an exclusive interview for their culture magazine and those photographs would make the fans go insane. Her professional code was above all else, she had fought tooth and nail to achieve everything she had. She vowed to never let her soulmate change her and it would certainly not start now.
Avoiding the person would probably be impossible, she considered, still following Lidia. The stadium was packed with fans and crew, there was no avoiding whoever it was. Since people kept passing through her constantly, she thought their bond must be pretty strong. Otherwise, how could it be that the sensation wasn’t fading as the person walked past her? They probably weren’t even walking past her. They were just somewhere in the vicinity.
There was no photoshoot scheduled, just the interview. When they walked into the artists' backstage lounge it was relatively quiet. There were seven, distinctively sitting in the corner of the room that had been lit and specially prepared for the occasion. Freya was surprised the artist’s crew had prepared that small arrangement for the interview, as it would usually be up to the magazine to arrange it.
She stayed by the door and grabbed her camera, pulling it to her face.
Lidia walked ahead with a gorgeous smile, “Hello everyone! Are we late? I hope you didn't wait long.”
The question was rhetorical, they were well ahead of time. Freya was immediately immersed in seeing life through her lens. She would do what she did best, soulmate pull bothering her or not.
She did not pay attention to the conversation between Lidia and the publicists, managers, and whoever else. She was certain Lidia pointed at her because she saw it through her camera.
"Just ignore her," Lidia said with a smile, glancing back at the camera. Lidia knew she liked to work in peace.
She wasn't a photographer who would take a thousand pictures to be able to choose one. She would take ten to choose five. That meant being very conscious of every angle, light, positioning, and framing. Everything had to be perfect. She had won awards for pictures she barely had to edit precisely because of her attention to detail. In warzones, she was severely limited in time and supplies, she had to make due. It wasn't the same circumstance, but her work ethic applied.
She liked seeing the crew work around them tirelessly and she wasn't shy about snapping photos of them. She was certain then that the concert was only about 20% the actual musicians. Not to diminish their work, but the show itself was not of their making. They were just starring in it.
The interview was well underway when she turned to the artists themselves. That wasn't problematic, their smile wouldn't change between the first and last question. She actually believed they'd relax more as the questions progressed, making their photos portray their true nature better.
Those thirty minutes flew truly by. She quickly scanned the photos she took through the view screen to make sure she had all seven in perfect soul-capturing moments, but she frowned. There was one that was different. He was speaking in the photo she took, he had an honest expression, and a beautiful complexion, but she didn't feel like the photo was as good as the others. He wasn't captured as well.
She raised her eyes to look at him and her heart jumped a beat. He was looking down, hands over his crossed legs. His hair was beautifully styled over his forehead, he looked almost like a doll. He sure was frozen, but she knew he was listening. His bandmate was answering a question in English and Lidia laughed, not too loud but not fakely either. That man smiled, not out of politeness, but out of understanding. Out of deeper thoughts. Something more meaningful. 
Click.
She hadn't even thought of it, she had to capture it. Her stomach was twisting, she wasn't feeling too well. Damned soulbond shenanigans. She usually did very well in crowds, but she suddenly felt claustrophobic. She slipped through the entrance door and left. She was fighting hard for what was happening so as not to ruin her day.
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He was barely containing himself. He had an urge, an energy pulse that wanted to pull at him and take him somewhere. He was sitting as still as he could, respectfully listening to the interview and answering when appropriate. He felt his smile might give it away, so he kept looking down. Some of the others noticed and touched him soothingly in worry, patting his back or shoulder softly. He stayed quiet, he couldn’t tell them yet.
When the journalist left and the room emptied a bit in the last ten minutes before the final preparations, he was finally free.
"What's wrong, Yoongi?" Hoseok was worried.
"Yeah, why didn't you answer the next album question?" Namjoon’s tone wasn't of irritation, just curiosity. "It's your question."
"You were really stiff too," Jimim commented with a concerned pout. They were next to each other and Jimin had at one point patted his lower back.
"Guys, let him talk," Seokjin interfered, waving his hand in front of his face. Was he getting hot? Cause Yoongi was burning up, and sweating without the show even starting.
"Look at him, he's flustered," Taehyung commented, looking at him from real close. Yoongi scoffed and brushed him away.
"Here's water, hyung," Jungkook offered him a water bottle which he gladly took.
"Guys," his voice sounded weird even to him. Since when was it this emotional? "I feel it."
"What?"
"Are you sick?"
"Don't push yourself too hard."
"Guys!" He grabbed Taehyung by the shoulders, who was still close and personal. He would have been annoyed if the occasion was different, he really didn’t care now. "I feel it. Her. She's here somewhere tonight. I feel it right now."
Chaos ensued, with some congratulations and some worries echoing throughout the room. They barely had a minute to discuss it with their manager Sejin, the first to be informed. 
They were rushed to the level underneath the stage and the manager just smacked Yoongi’s shoulder, "Focus on the show. We'll find her after."
He was nervous now, and not about the show. His mind was processing the facts now. The person wasn't in the crew, he would have felt it before. It had to be someone who entered the venue when he felt it. That could be anyone, from fans to workers, and little could be done to slim the number down from tens of thousands to one. That thought made him despair. How would he ever find her in so many people?
"Hey," Namjoon had his hand over his shoulder. His eyes had a glint of concern, but his expression exuded confidence. "She feels you too." Yoongi nodded, taking a deep breath. "She'll probably come forward after the concert."
"She's probably an ARMY," Hoseok winked. Yoongi just shrugged, he didn't care if she was. That was the least of his concerns right now.
"Just think this is for her, for all of them," Jimin added with a light smile.
Yoongi nodded and rushed to the stage, the same as them. He gave it his all. He was exhausted, but he wasn't giving up. He knew he shocked his brothers because he had probably never shown such a performance before. He couldn't explain it. He had newfound energy, and hope. Things would be different from now on, for the best. The thought that she was listening, and seeing him perform gave him an extra incentive. He teased the public way more than usual. He rarely displayed his English skills as openly, but the circumstances told him she couldn't be Korean. Whoever she was in that crowd, he wanted to make sure she knew they could communicate. Could she even tell it was him? She was probably as lost as he was.
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The pull was hard. Freya was facing the whole crowd from that spot, near the stage. She could easily take pictures of the stage, as well as the fans. She was trying to focus on her job, but something kept interrupting her. Sometimes she would feel goosebumps all over her body, though she did not know why. Maybe if that guy stopped talking on the microphone all the time, she could actually hear herself think.
She rubbed her eyes with a sigh; the show was almost ending, it would be over soon. She was particularly snappy because of the bond-induced tension, she knew that. She would be able to leave as soon as it ended, just a little while longer.
Or so she thought. The venue started emptying and Lidia insisted for them to stay. She didn't complain at first, taking pictures of the heartbroken fans when the show ended. Most of them were emotional, tears staining their faces, but they were smiling. For them, it must have been a life experience to see BTS on stage. If only Freya could have appreciated it as much. She also wanted to cry. She wanted to run away so badly.
The venue was nearly empty when a publicist showed up to call for Lidia. Apparently, there were some matters left to discuss. Lidia nudged Freya, saying how nice it was of them to let them experience the concert for free before getting back to business. Freya knew it was nice, but she just shrugged. She wanted to leave.
But she couldn't, Lidia was her ride. She could always run away either way, but it wasn't professional.
"Do you want me to come with you?" She asked, willing.
"No, it's just a meeting. Footage of the fans leaving, the empty poststage and backstage, or even the tired artists are more important. Make it count," Lidia winked before leaving. She probably didn't notice Freya’s expression, as excited as if she was sucking on a sour lemon.
She needed to calm down, she thought. She had to be professional above all else. She could not, and would not, have that stupid occurrence ruin her photojournalist reputation. Over her dead body.
She exited the designated area, aimlessly taking shots whenever she felt it was worth it. She had her bag with other lenses that she would switch occasionally. She got lost.
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Yoongi was despairing. He couldn't help it. He wasn't even listening to the argument anymore. He was focused on the feeling, on the internal drum. He was panicked that it was going to disappear in a heartbeat.
"There's nothing we can do! We can't prevent the fans from leaving the venue, we can't force them to leave one by one. Not to mention that just touching the subject would immediately destroy any option of privacy for Yoongi or his soulmate." Sejin was being reasonable, everyone knew that. But one glance at Yoongi's face said it all. It was not enough. 
Namjoon kept arguing, but Yoongi turned around to face the mirror, closing his eyes. He felt someone behind him.
"Do you still feel it?" Jungkook’s kind voice asked. 
He nodded with his heart tight in his chest. He did feel it, he felt it better now, if that made sense. It was called a pull for a reason. He felt pulled, compelled to move, to go somewhere. He didn't know where, he didn't know if it worked and it was probably not safe for him to leave that room. But he felt it as though he was a compass with an arrow juggling around. No one was going to find her but him. And he absolutely couldn't lose her.
He opened his eyes and confidently walked out, not paying attention to anyone. He didn't notice his brothers calling or manager Sejin telling them to let him go. The venue was nearly empty, maybe one-fourth of the fans were still around. He still felt her, so maybe they had a chance.
He walked to the higher levels completely on a gut feeling. He hadn't even changed outfits or showered yet, he was straight out of the stage with a gray hoodie and black tight pants. He had a black headband over his hairline that kept his short dark brown hair from falling down his eyes and the sweat from dripping. None of it mattered though, he didn’t have time to look presentable, he needed to find her.
When he reached the higher level, he wasn't even afraid to meet fans, the thought didn’t occur to him. He just stumbled, numb. He could barely feel it anymore, it was like a pulled elastic at the end. It was still there, and so was she. Yet, for a second his chest filled with anguish and it physically hurt. He had no sense of direction anymore. Nothing made sense anymore. He was failing and it was useless, he had no idea of what to do.
People were starting to mumble around him and he was brought back to reality. He needed an escape, to hide the repressed feelings that were starting to make his chest hurt. There was a door in front of him. He entered the room, slamming the door behind him.
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Freya was walking aimlessly, completely lost. There weren't that many people around and she wasn't really interested in taking pictures anymore. The moment had passed. She hoped to catch the band leaving, knowing that was the kind of shot her magazine could appreciate for the online version of the article.
The more she kept going, the more sure she became that she was going the wrong way. She was effectively ignoring her surroundings and just going. The crew was going in the opposite direction, the fangirls and security too. She tried convincing herself that was totally normal. It was totally her own will taking her somewhere in order to snap more pictures. It was not that gut-wrenching pull telling her she had to be somewhere.
She was walking down a corridor when she suddenly froze. Her body was burning up, her heart racing out of control, but her gut clearly knew that was it. No need to go further. She was deaf at that point, the bond so strong it was a deafening physical energy current around her pushing her in only one direction: the door in front of her.
Everything else was muffled and unimportant. Yet from the outside of the door, she could already feel she shouldn’t open it. The force was so strong it was numbing. Her hand hovered over the door knob and she wondered how it wasn't vibrating with the resonance of such a powerful pull. She wanted to fight it with all of her strength, and her hand trembled. It would change her life forever if she opened that door. She didn't want that to happen.
But she wasn't strong enough, it was just so much stronger than her. She succumbed to it, fatefully so. She grabbed the doorknob and tried to rationalize it. It couldn’t hurt to see him at least once, or at least to tell him she wasn't and wasn't ever going to be interested. Yeah, that's it. That was why she had to get in there. It wasn't that person's fault and she should at least tell him that.
She entered the room quickly, a small meeting room, and closed the door without turning. Inside, the pull became like a magnetic field, all around them like walls, instead of a single string. She turned slowly around and saw a man standing behind the center table, having risen from his chair, staring at her in shock. He was different than she expected, though she expected nothing. He looked tired, that was her first thought. Why was he so tired? His dark brown hair was wet with sweat and falling over his headband. His eyes were smaller than she would expect, and darker. His skin was so pale she wondered if it was porcelain; was that makeup? He was her height it would seem, though bulkier than her. That hoodie did not give much away, but he looked comfortable. She was somewhat happy he was comfortable, despite his tiredness.
Her eyes were glued to him like nothing else existed because nothing else did. She was walking slowly in his direction, completely unaware. She had heard of the trance but she never thought it would be that strong. Her body moved on its own, her mind clouded as if she was high on drugs. She was such a strong-willed person, and yet it seemed all her convictions evaporated. Her legs were jello and would only move in his direction. She argued that it was only physical, her mind was still alert. Yet they were a step away from each other when she recognized her own lie. Her mind was as interested as her body, especially because she recognized him. But from where?
They shouldn't have touched, she thought. As soon as their hands did there was no denying it. There was no reasoning that could explain what was happening, except soulmating. Her chest filled with cheer bliss while her whole body warmed up like crazy as if she was a firework ready to pop in a million colors. And it was strange to recognize the same sort of emotion in such foreign eyes, in a stranger's face. She felt endeared by that face, propelled to care for that person with the clear consciousness that she did not know him. And her heart, or should she say soul, was at peace with it. 
She struggled with that thought. First, because she thought they would instantly love each other blindly or something, and she didn’t want that to happen. Second, because it confirmed her own theories that soulbonding would erase her sense of self, her autonomy, and her individuality. She would be damned if she’d ever let any of that happen.
She knew nothing would ever feel the same or compare to him. However, knowing it in theory or feeling it in practice were very different things. Every particle of her body and soul agreed that was it, her other half, and no other person, relationship or bond would ever replace it. She looked at her hands in his and she had to close her eyes for a second to control her emotions. The urge to hug him was making her toes curl.
“What’s your name?”
Her eyes jumped to him and widened. She knew him, she heard his voice a lot tonight. She pictured him without the headband in a pretty black suit and she gasped. He was one of the guys from the band! She was completely shaken to her core; how was that possible?! Weren’t they from the other side of the world? 
Then she shook her head, but of course he was. He didn’t live in Berlin, or else they’d have met before. He only happened to come to Berlin, and she only happened to be invited to work that piece last minute. Lidia would call it fate.
“What’s your name?”
His voice gave her goosebumps. He was saying it in English, not German, but she was totally fine with it. Despite the slight demand from his voice, he was using a loving tone. A soft caress to her ears meant to not trouble her. But she was troubled, deeply. She fought to keep her mouth shut, clenching her teeth and looking away. She saw his chest heave to take in a breath before insisting on knowing her name and she panicked. She couldn’t deny him if he kept asking, her soul wouldn’t allow it. So she kissed him.
She censored herself for a millisecond before their lips touched. Kissing him went against everything she stood for. First and foremost, because she was invading his privacy, his personal space. She was attacking him, sexually assaulting him for fuck’s sake. Soulmate or not, that couldn’t be taken lightly. Second, because it was disrespectful as a whole to kiss someone without knowing if they consented. What if he had a girlfriend or was married? Third, because she wanted to keep her distance from her soulmate. They were never supposed to have met, let alone touch or kiss. She wanted to leave, run away, and never look back. No matter the pain it would cause them both. That was too selfish of her and the more they dove in, the more she would hurt him, wound him. His soul, the other part of her. He was an unlucky bastard to be fated to be her other half.
Despite the flawless logic in all of those thoughts, she couldn’t stop her lips and he didn’t seem to mind. He was surprised for a second, before supporting her waist with his hands carefully while she grabbed his head in place. For someone who wanted to run away as soon as possible, she sure was keeping him firmly in her grip.
She forced him to walk back until he was against the wall. She did so because now he had nowhere to go, she could press her body against him. She felt absolute ecstasy running through her blood. She could not stop kissing him. She could not be stopped. She vaguely thought the only way would be for him to ask it, and she doubted he ever would.
His hands stayed respectfully at her waist, frustratingly so. It was infuriating in a way how he seemed to be more in control than she was when she was the one who didn’t want this to happen. She should be outraged that they were kissing without her consent. She didn’t have the mind space to think about that though, she would reflect on being a hypocrite later.
For now, his lips tasted like heaven. She was going into all the corny tropes because they fit exactly how she felt. She was riding the wave of a rush and it was divine. She had never been high on LSD or cocaine, but she imagined it came close to that. Her tongue had no problems invading his mouth, provoking hot waves of pleasure to reverberate through her whole body. The way he just accepted it, as if giving her the full reins of it, stupidly turned her on, egged her on. He was the only one who could stop her, why didn’t he?
She fought hard to stop their makeout session and pulled away, panting uncontrollably. She was eating him alive. So much for saying ‘goodbye, let’s never see each other again’.
“You… What's your name?”
Their faces were still glued together, his arms around her. She pushed herself away and turned to the side, covering her mouth with her right hand. Somehow, pulling away from him exhausted her. She felt like even gravity was against her. She stayed like that, panting at a short but safe distance, looking at him.
After a moment of silence, he walked to a chair and sat down. The corners of his lips were raised in a small smile, he looked calm. He had all the time in the world, it seemed. Well, she didn't, she had other things to do. Like running away and never look back. Stupid soulbond was too heavy, her legs were stomped.
He pointed at the chair across from him, on the other side of the table. "Please, sit."
She wanted to scream. He was being so gentle, so condescending. Was she an idiot that couldn't keep herself away? Y- No. She wasn't a fangirl. She was a hard-working adult. An award-winning photojournalist. She was in control. Mostly. She couldn't even look away from him, that empty chair had nothing on him.
She tried calming herself down. She took her camera strip out of her neck, letting the camera sit on the table, and then she also dropped her lens bag on the floor next to it. Her breathing was stabilizing and she swallowed dryly. He was patiently waiting for her. He looked like a mythological God observing her, a mere mortal, to cope with his presence. And she had all the intentions of kneeling and begging for whatever mercy he could give.
She scoffed and pulled her copper hair back, out of her face. It was good. That soulmate thing… It was strong. She never thought it would get to that point. She knew when to admit defeat. And that was certainly, still, not the time to. 
She took a step forward, convinced that she was in control. She was going to put her hand on his shoulder and say, ‘I’m sorry it had to be me. I’m not interested. Let’s forget this ever happened.'
Her hand actually hovered over his shoulder for a moment, when her blue eyes deviated to the exposed skin of his neck. Her hand trembled while she struggled between her wills, visceral thoughts opposing one another. He must have seen her inner battle because he extended his hand and guided hers to his shoulder calmingly. It tipped the scales.
Her hormones, body, whatever it was took control. What she wanted beyond him didn’t matter, no one beyond him mattered. She felt like everything in life was secondary, a faded background, dim against his brightness. There was only one thing she wanted.
Her leg heaved to the other side of him and she sat on top of his legs. He seemed to be expecting her lips when she leaned forward to greet him. His hands went to rest carefully by her waist while hers kept by his neck. He was taking her kisses fully, meeting her passion without ever imposing. But she was hungry. She started grinding herself against him and as soon as she could feel his hard-on clearly through his pants and her shorts, she just couldn’t stop anymore.
Her mind became foggy and nothing else but their pleasure meant anything. There was something at the end of the rainbow and she wanted it. Not want, want. Like the need to breathe. He grunted and parted their lips, trying to look around, at them, at her. 
She got up with a weird sense of ease. She unbuttoned her shorts without ever dropping her eyes from him. His, however, accompanied the fabric’s descent down her naked legs. She pulled her panties down in the same motion and he seemed to understand. His expression was now serious, as she imagined hers. She wanted it, like oxygen. Like daylight. He could stop it though. One word and her world would crumble.
He extended his right hand for her to take. She took it and got closer. He meant to get up, but she stopped him. She unbuttoned his pants herself while her heart drummed in her chest. It wasn’t even about what he was going to look like or anything of the sort. She just had to feel him.
She got on his lap and immediately pulled his erection out. It was hard and shiny, extending proudly upwards. Their eyes met and no words were spoken. His hands were on her hips and she just did what she was supposed to. She sat down.
It had never felt that way before. She was never the most sexual person, but it was not supposed to feel like that. If she had a will, it vanished then. Her completeness could not be described. It was like an explosion of color, like a gust of wind, like the stars on the black pane of the universe. She was a boat looking to anchor, he was the nest she came to sleep in. 
Once the cosmic waves were done resonating in her nerves, she opened her eyes, aware. It was like seeing everything blurry and then putting on glasses. She understood. She could barely think, but she knew she understood. And looking at his eyes, she knew he did too. His arms raised around her in a tight embrace to keep her close while her hips started rolling. She felt embraced, and accepted, like a promise was being made. Their bodies were giving something to each other because that was the only way their souls could be one again. That pleasure making her skin stretch was the extent their souls would ever touch each other. That was sad in a way, making her feel anguish. Yet he kissed her chest, right over her heart, making her come to an almost full stop. He was promising. She started moving again. That promise would only be real if they committed. If their souls actually touched and joined.
She had never felt pleasure like that. She thought she would reach her orgasm very soon, but somehow there was more. Like an endless staircase to heaven. He grew impatient with kissing her shirt and forced it out. She gladly helped. His lips on her skin were everything, and she moaned through clenched teeth at the shock. His tongue darted out to feel her breasts, contouring her bra edges and sneaking in as much as he could. She was still going, jumping as low as possible so he could do it. She grew impatient and her hands reached her back to release the bra when he stopped her.
He grabbed her hands, “No, don’t stop.”
It was a catalyst, if there could be one. His hands groped her firmly everywhere while she got lost in the feeling of riding him. She was now moaning with every motion, so ready to reach him whenever he was.
He grunted from the back of his throat, “Fuck.”
She nodded approvingly and felt the instant he was ready. She forced his hands on her breasts to squeeze hard while she sat down strongly a few times, making him go so deep it nearly hurt. 
Only it was pure bliss. She closed her eyes and all she could see was golden. Golden waves with particles of light. Her body trembled in spasms, her voice muted without breath. Her body felt like it was hovering in a breeze, floating. She could feel his hands, his body, inside and out. She felt warm and safe. Home. 
It lasted maybe fifteen seconds. Then, the golden waves receded, the lights disappeared like stars in the morning sky, her body floated softly to the ground, and it was done. Her head fell over his shoulder and his hand came to rest on her hair. They were both panting. They promised, it was done. She was hugging him as tightly as she could. She was scared to open her eyes.
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You can go here to keep reading [ao3] (this story is finished) 💜
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sweeterthanthis · 1 year
Text
Haze
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Pairing: Frat!Bucky/Frat!Steve x Milf!Reader
Summary: When the fraternity your son is pledging crosses a line, you decide to go give two of the members a piece of your mind.
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, Bucky and Steve are ASSHOLES consider this your warning, reader is married, heavy references of hazing/bullying, one instance of fat shaming(not directed at the reader), drug use/alcohol consumption(not by reader), DUBCON, humiliation, degradation, coercive bargaining, fingering, oral sex/throat fucking (m receiving), rimming (m receiving), name calling, double vaginal penetration, double creampie, bukkake, photographing without consent, 18+.
Word Count: 4.7k
A/N: Thank you to @msmarvelwrites, @cockslutpadalecki, @sgt-seabass, @christywantspizza and @dreamlessinparis for all your help, read throughs and hype! And thank you to @navybrat817 for helping with some of the FILTH in here and coming up with the hardest part - the summary that I was stuck on for about a week 🤣 I started this fic in December 2021, so I'm sorry if I forgot anybody who helped me, encouraged me or read it through for me. It wasn't intentional if I did 💗
All my works are 18+. If you click the read more tab, you are agreeing that you are 18 or over, have read the warnings and take responsibility for your own media consumption. I do not consent to having my work translated or posted anywhere else.
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You strum your manicured nails against the steering wheel, trying to reach your husband’s phone for the fifth time that afternoon. Nothing. You stare up at the frat house at the top of the driveway, ire rising inside you as you cast your mind back to this morning.
Josh, your son, has never been so upset. You knew he was too sweet – too sensitive – to join a fraternity but he insisted. He wanted to fit in, to make friends. That was a month ago. Having been a sorority member in college yourself, and knowing what frat life entails, you were less than surprised to find out about the disturbing hazing he’d been made to partake in. 
What you weren’t expecting was just how cruel and downright humiliating the two assholes in charge had been. 
Making your way up the driveway, you straighten up your shoulders, not an ounce of anxiety dwelling within. If there’s one thing you can’t stand, it’s a bully. And you were more than happy to confront them if it meant your son could start enjoying college life like he deserves. 
The front door swings open before you have the chance to knock, the stench of marijuana and stale beer wafting up your wrinkled nose. “Steve, you order a hooker or something?”
You recognise the male in front of you from the video you’d seen on social media earlier that day. James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. If you didn’t know any better – and he didn’t have such a vile manner about him already – you’d think he was a nice guy. Brown hair, bright blue eyes and that baby faced smile. But you know he’s anything but.
"I'm Josh's mother." You don't wait for him to invite you in, pushing past him and walking into the house. It's messy but nothing compared to what you expected, empty solo cups strewn around on the sideboard and discarded sneakers littering the hallway floor. "I came here to discuss your treatment of him. It's unacceptable and it stops now." 
A blonde man appears in the kitchen doorway, amused stare looking you over and his chest puffed out, silently attempting to assert his arrogance. "You're hotter than your photo." Your brow furrows slightly, confused. "Nineteen years old and still got his mama as his screensaver. It'd be cute if it wasn't so fucking sad." 
You despise the way your thighs clench at the sight of his bicep flexing when he lifts a beer bottle to his mouth, a thick vein protruding against the surface of his skin. He reminds you of your college boyfriend, Ransom. Pushing the memory of that asshole from your mind, you collect yourself, focusing on the one in front of you, one hand resting on your hip and your car keys dangling in the other. 
"What you're doing is cruel. He's very upset." 
"Has Joshy been crying to his mother? He's more of a sap than I thought." You scowl when Bucky passes you, lighting the joint in his hand and taking a long drag. The scent takes you back to your own college days. He exhales. "You know how this shit works, babe? It's not s'posed to be a breeze. Fuckers gotta prove himself before we can accept him. It's nothing personal."
"I'm not your babe," you scowl, folding your arms across your chest. "Nothing personal? You made him send his girlfriend pictures of another girl's breasts. Surely even a prick like you can see that's crossing a line. She was distraught."
"Actually, that was my idea. Fuckin' love that shit," Steve gloats, reaching beneath the waistband of his shorts and readjusting himself. Your eyes linger on his crotch longer than you intended and his lips curl up when you force your gaze away. "She'll get over it. She is over it. Trust me." 
You don't want to know what that means, choosing not to press this particular subject further.
“You washed his mouth out with soap because he forgot to refer to you as 'Master'. You think that’s an acceptable way to treat a human being, James?” you ask, disgusted by the way he smirks against the rim of his beer bottle. Disgusted by the way your tongue darts out to catch the imaginary droplet of beer as one happens to spill from the corner of his own mouth. “Oh, that’s funny, huh? I’ve had it. I won’t let you get away with it. I’m reporting you to the Dean.” 
Steve barks out a laugh and it only irritates you more. “Something amusing?”
“He’s my uncle, but good luck with that.” 
"Oh, great. A nepo baby." 
It all makes sense now. How else would they get away with this excessive humiliation?
"A bit rich coming from you, Mrs Stark."
You have nothing to say to that. You suppose, in a way, he's right. The cogs in your brain begin to turn, and you can't help but think that Josh's parentage might have something to do with their excessively harsh treatment. It wasn't exactly a secret amongst the staff that Tony had gifted a hefty grant to the college Dean in order to secure your son's place here. 
"I'll tell you what, Mama. I'll go easy on your boy. I'm not an unreasonable guy." You can't stop the scoff that comes from your mouth, arms folded across your chest as you eye the blonde popping the cap off a beer bottle and letting it fall to the floor at his feet. "What? I will. I'll go easy on him. But considering it could be classed as preferential treatment, don't you think you oughta do a little something for us in return?"
The sly grin that spreads across his face unsettles you, and you find yourself shuffling from left to right as you contemplate what it is that they could possibly want from you. You can tell the pair were born with silver spoons in their mouths. That much has been evident since the moment you stepped into the frat house. It wasn't as if they needed money, but you couldn't think of anything else they'd be seeking from you. 
"I'm not paying you to quit harassing my son," you tell the brunette, stepping back as he takes a short stride forward. The backs of your knees brush against the couch behind you, and you begin to feel trapped in his presence. Bucky simply laughs, looking over at a smirking Steve. Like they're in on some private joke that you're not yet privy to. "Just cut the bullshit and tell me what you want. My husband didn't work his fingers to the damn bone every day for the last 19 years for our son to drop out of college because of two losers on a power trip."
Your face is stern, your words dripping in faux bravery, and your brow crumpled in frustration; but what you're feeling inside is anything but courageous. Not when Bucky takes another step forward, lifting the joint between his fingers to his lips and toking it.
You turn your nose up at the stench that fills your nostrils, pursing your lips to express your disgust. If your sorority sisters were here, they'd poke fun at you over your prudeness. You weren't exactly a stranger to their ways, but these two didn't need to know that. 
"I don't think it's clicked in that pretty little head just yet, Buck." Your head snaps to the left of you, your eyes glaring a hole through Steve as he walks a little closer, taking a swig of his beer and shooting you a wink.
You open your mouth to speak, but your words are replaced by the dry tang of smoke billowing against your lips. Fanning the fumes from your face, anger bubbling away in your veins and an unwanted heat stoking between your thighs, you point a finger firmly against Bucky's chest. "Wipe that stupid grin off your face and quit wasting my time. What do you want?"
He's quiet for a moment, stretching his arm out by his side to pass the joint to Steve who takes it happily. Your mouth curls in disdain when his fingers find their way to the buttons of your blouse, and you're hit with the very obvious request he's about to make of you. You don't even give him the chance to say it before you're shaking your head.
"No," you tell him firmly; looking back and forth between the two young men. 
"No?" he chuckles, toying with your collar before pulling his hand away completely. You breathe a small sigh of relief, staring him down. “You don't even know what I'm gonna say yet.”
Those eyes could make the most devout of nuns drop their panties. 
Stop it.
You part your lips to speak, but Steve is quick to cut you off before you even begin. "Look, you can walk out of here with your self respect intact and your boy will get it the hardest out of all those desperate morons."
He pauses to down the remainder of his drink, and you try to look anywhere else but at the pair of bright, cerulean eyes staring you down. 
"Or," he continues, setting the empty bottle on the large, oak coffee table in front of him, "you can get down on your knees and show us exactly how desperate you are for us to leave him alone." 
Your heart beats frantically in your chest, sidestepping the brunette and putting some space between the two of you. You feel like your airway is closing up, your cheeks hot from the obscene proposal. 
"You can leave. You know where the door is," Bucky says, motioning to the hallway behind you, "or you can stay. You never know. You might enjoy yourself more than you think. How long's it been since that pussy got a good pounding?" 
“Last night, actually.” You’re lying, of course. It’s been months. 
“I’ve seen your husband, baby. The only thing he’s pounding is the Wendy’s drive-thru.” Bucky catches your wrist just before your palm can meet his cheek, his grip firm and a sick grin forming on his face. “Maybe next time he can use the grease to lube up his cock. Fuck knows you must be drier than the Nevada desert with that on top of you every night.” 
He’s disgusting, his darkened chuckle vibrating through your whole body like molasses, anger simmering and prickling at your skin. 
“So, what’s it gonna be? Run to the Dean and see how fast Rogers can get your kid kicked out altogether or get down on your knees and do something useful with that mouth?” 
This was Josh’s dream college. This was the one he’d dreamt of attending since 8th grade. The same one you and your husband attended all those years ago. You had to ask yourself, was your pride worth his heartbreak? If you did this for him, his life would undoubtedly improve, right? 
“If you tell him—” 
“Our lips are sealed. Right, Rogers?” He smirks. “But yours won't be.”
You wince at the feel of Steve’s rough hand squeezing your ass, your body trapped between the two of them and the scent of them swimming all around you. His smiling lips brush your ear and you don’t even bother to suppress the shudder. “Get on your knees. We don’t have all day.” 
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"Not so mouthy now, are you?" Bucky grins, taking a sip of his beer and watching as you glare up at him; lips stretching around his girth, pussy shamefully clenching at the feel of Steve's palm dragging up the inside of your thigh. "Well actually, I guess you are, huh?"
You pull Bucky's cock free of your mouth, spit dripping from your lower lip and down your chin. The hand that curls around the back of your throat startles you, Steve's body leaning over you and his lips inches from your ear.
"Don't want your boy to know what a slut you are, do you?" Steve taunts, the outline of his erection pressing up against the curve of your ass through his basketball shorts. "Do your part and it'll be our little secret."
You'd be lying if you said you weren't changing your tune real fast, your cunt hungry for attention and your lips gravitating back towards the fat cock in front of you. You can't help but hum at the salty taste on your tongue when you lap at the head, lips working their way down his shaft inch by inch. 
"Bet she's fuckin' drenched just from having her mouth stuffed," Bucky teases, looking right past you and nodding with silent instruction to Steve. "Go ahead, bet you bucks I'm right."
A moan vibrates through him when you feel two thick fingers glide through your drenched folds, a sardonic laugh ringing in your ears as they probe at your entrance teasingly. Your eyes catch sight of the $50 bill being tossed forward over your shoulder, landing on Bucky's thigh before he snatches it up with his fingers. 
"I'm never wrong about this kinda shit. I can tell when they want it." He has the sheer audacity to wave the money in front of your face, a smug look on his undoubtedly handsome features. "Hey, do a great job and you might leave with a tip."
You hate the way your thighs clench together, and the distinct sound of your slick squelching between your pussy lips makes you cringe. You hate that you walked in here ready to tear them a new asshole, and now here you are, willing to give anything for them to tear up yours.
You don't know where the urge to please them is coming from, but with each soft grunt that falls from his mouth, every little whisper of praise from Steve's lips - it makes you want more. So much more. 
"Yeah, you love it don't you? Being down on your knees like a worthless little whore?" Steve goads, thumb swiping back and forth over your clit. You find yourself nodding, bobbing your head further down onto Bucky's cock, because it's true. Years of boring, vanilla sex was finally catching up with you. "Still think you can do better. Not makin' anywhere near as much mess we like. C'mere." 
Steve yanks your head backwards away from Bucky's lap, your neck craning to its limit as he holds your mouth open with his fingers; a thick glob of saliva dripping from his mouth onto your waiting tongue. It's disgusting, the way your lips wrap themselves around his fingers when he pushes them between your lips, pressing down against your tongue and making you gag at the foreign intrusion. 
"That's better," Steve hums, withdrawing his fingers and leaning down to leave the sloppiest of kisses against your parted lips. "Say Buck, remember Tiffany from last week? The cheerleader? You think our new toy can throat it as deep as she did?"
"I don't know, Steve. That was one hell of a blow job. I'm not sure she's got it in her," Bucky laughs, and the determination that rises inside you has you leaning back in, taking him further than you have yet, the tip of him prodding against your uvula. "Would you look at that? Someone's feeling competitive." 
You could care less about the noises you're making as you take him deeper, forcing yourself down until your nose is nestled in the coarse hair at the base of him. One hand reaches for the soft sac between his thighs, the other stretching behind you for, well, you don't really know. 
All you know is that you want Steve's fingers back on your cunt. 
You drag your swollen, smeared lips down the underside of Bucky's shaft, your tongue seeking out his balls, sucking them into your mouth one after the other. You can tell by the blissed out look on his face that he's in heaven. Tiffany, who? 
The sensation of Steve's fingers easing slowly inside your cunt has you gasping, your cheek resting against Bucky's bare thigh as you adjust to the stretch. You can't remember the last time Tony initiated any kind of foreplay, and the way his fingertips curl up against that long forgotten soft spot inside you has you sighing with lusty relief.
"Hey," Bucky nudges, the heavy thud of his cock stinging your spit-slick cheek, "you better not be slackin' off now you've got a cunt full. Keep goin'."
"Yes Sir," you smirk, wrapping your fist around his throbbing appendage and squeezing it in your palm. Your confidence is rising with each passing moment, now that you know exactly what having you down here on your knees does to him. To both of them. 
"You hear that, Rogers? Yes, Sir. I like that," he groans, your tongue bravely dipping lower, the tip of it tickling his perineum as his thighs spread wider as if by instinct. "Oh yeah, I like that. I knew she was a nasty bitch. Can't fool me with the fancy clothes and expensive jewelry."
Your back arches, Steve's hand splayed out against it as his fingers work delightfully in and out of your trembling walls. Bucky repositions himself, feet resting on the cusp of the couch and his hips shuffling a little closer to the edge. You know what he's asking for, and you're not about to refuse him. Not when he looks down at you like you hung all the stars in the fucking sky. 
"You gonna do it, baby? You gonna eat his ass? Fuck it, why should he have all the fun?" You whine pathetically, cunt empty as Steve moves from behind you, taking a seat on the sofa next to Bucky and sagging back against the cushions. "Least you can do is jerk me off while you work that nasty little mouth." 
You don't even hesitate to reach beneath the waistband of his sweats, your fingers barely touching as you tug him free. He's not packing as much length as the man in front of you, but his girth is mouth watering. 
Your tongue wiggles its way down, flattening against the tight, pink ring of muscle between Bucky's cheeks, and the groan that leaves his throat is nothing short of sinful. You don't hold back, burying your face against him as Steve takes hold of your palm, spitting in it and leading it back towards his cock. 
"Fuck, look at her.” Bucky groans, unashamedly letting his head fall back against the cushions as you feast on his asshole. You take a moment to breathe, sitting back on your knees and taking hold of Bucky’s length in your free hand; jerking the two men simultaneously and letting your tongue lap at your bottom lip. “Who’s cock you gonna bounce on first, hm? Seein’ as though you’ve been such a good little fucktoy, I’ll let you choose.” 
It’s an impossible choice. How the fuck are you supposed to decide when both look so tempting, so capable of stretching you beyond belief? “I—I can’t. I can’t choose."
Four strong arms hoist you up onto the couch, your body landing on Bucky’s lap and your thighs forcefully straddled either side of his. Steve pinches your cheeks, hooking his fingers at the corners of your mouth as your tongue rolls out; drool spilling down onto your chest and a kitten-like mewl coming from your throat. 
“She can’t decide, Buck.” Steve grins then, menacing and full of obscene intent. “Guess that means she’ll just have to take both.” 
A wave of panic runs through you, Steve maneuvering himself off the couch, his jeans around his ankles and the fleshy weight of his cock smacking against your ass. Your mind tries to wander to your husband, a glimmer of guilt sparking in your chest, but it vanishes just as fast as it appears; Bucky’s tongue sinking into your mouth and the tip of his dick spanking your swollen clit. “Oh, fuck!” 
“You think she can take two cocks in this cunt, Rogers?” His words bring you out of your lustful reverie, anxiety and trepidation shaking you to the core. You tremble, sandwiched between the two of them, their body heat causing your temperature to rise, skin dewy with perspiration. 
“No, wait. I don't think I c—"
"Oh, you can. I know you can," Steve purrs against your ear, a single bead of sweat dripping down your spine. "Don't worry. We've done this before, haven't we? They always start off a little tense, but fuck, once they open up to it they can't get enough." 
Steve grips your waist, holding you still as Bucky’s cock sinks up into your drenched hole. “Fuck, there we fuckin’ go. Knew it’d be worth dealing with that bitch mouth.” 
If your insides weren't melting like warm butter you'd snipe back in retaliation to his insult, but the head of Steve's length poking against your perineum has you stock still, every muscle in your body tensing as you brace yourself for the excessive intrusion. "Please–please go slow." 
"Hey." Bucky's knuckles nudge at your chin as your forehead rests against his shoulder, tilting your gaze up to meet his deep azure state, his features set softer now. "It's no fun for us if it's not fun for you. We ain't gonna hurt you. If it hurts, you tell us to stop. We'll stop. Alright?" 
The stinging stretch causes such pressure on your gut that your eyes glaze over, a subtle wave of nausea washing over your body and a pressure so overwhelming, it's almost beyond comprehension. You've never been this full but they've clearly done this plenty of times before. You can tell by the ease of their movements when they gently begin to thrust [can't think of the word] in and out of your cunt. 
You lose track of all sense of time, fucked to within an inch of your own sanity, tugged around like a ragdoll and your limbs manipulated without your own consideration. And you've never felt pleasure like it. 
Your body limpens against Bucky's chest, Steve's gliding against your back, a slither of drool seeping from the corner of your mouth and onto his sweat-slick skin. It's torture and nirvana all at once, their eager grunts ringing in your ears as you allow them to use your body for their own obscene pleasure. 
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The cool relief of the wood against your back as they lay you down on the coffee table in the center of the room has you whimpering, your body draped across the sturdy oak and your head hanging off the side. A light tap to your cheek has you struggling to focus on Steve's face as it comes into view, a cocky smirk plastered on his face. "Hey, where you goin'? You still in there mama?" 
You open your mouth to attempt an answer, immediately muffled by his girth as he feeds it between your lips, your cheeks hollowing instantly and suckling clumsily while he ruts against your face. 
Bucky's fingers plucking at your nipples has a heady whine emitting from your stuffed throat, his cock sliding into your oozing cunt causing your thighs to shake. They've already spilled inside you once. Surely they can't go much longer. Your body is exhausted. "Got you nice n open now, huh? Bet we could keep you here all fuckin' day and you'd still wanna come back for more." 
"Would you like that? You wanna come back?" Steve chuckles, knowing full well you can't answer, spluttering around him each time he drives himself into your mouth. "Yeah, I'll bet you would. Nasty fuckin' whore. You just wanna be a dirty little pleasure pit for college dick, don't you?" 
"Mmph." It's all you can manage, your lips stretched to capacity and your insides wrecked. 
Bucky's surprisingly deft fingers work your clit, softly pinching and strumming, walls beating around his dick like a lusty heartbeat. "She's gonna cum again, aren't you, baby? What's that? Three times now?" 
"I count four. Not that I give a shit." 
If you could talk, you'd say Steve absolutely does give a shit. Nobody puts this much effort into ruining a woman when they don't give a shit. But you're happy to focus on milking his dick with your mouth instead. It keeps you from zoning out completely. 
You’re on the edge of stupid when Steve yanks himself free of your sore throat, thick strings of spit connecting your lips to the tip of his cock. Before you can focus your vision, he's spilling his cum all over your face; sticky, hot droplets landing on your cheeks, lips and chin. 
“There we go. Doesn’t she look pretty, Buck? God, I gotta get a shot of this shit.” Bucky’s thrusts stagger when Steve reaches for his phone, snapping a photograph of your cum-soaked features and grunting in satisfaction at the picture on his screen. 
It’s too late to argue with him, in fact, what’s unfolding doesn’t even register fully in your brain. Your body is still twitching from your last orgasm and you’re certain you can’t take another – and Bucky doesn’t intend on making you suffer through one; pulling out and jerking himself to completion all over your stomach. 
Your head is spinning, the loud click of the camera leveling you out as Steve’s fingers scoop up the pearly droplets on your chin and sink into your mouth. You gag at the intrusion, his digits pressing down on your tongue. 
“That’s a work of art right there, Rogers.” You try to sit up, your limbs boneless and trembling. The guilt begins to settle in as you listen to them laugh, Bucky pulling two beers from the mini fridge in the corner, popping the caps off and handing one to Steve. The sound of glass clinking together makes you wince, the throbbing between your legs nothing in comparison to the heavy sense of regret building in the pit of your stomach. “What’s the matter, mama? You look a little tense. Thought we fucked that right outta you.” 
“You– you took pictures of me.” It’s a statement, not a question. Fear prickles at your skin. What if they show Josh? What if they–
“Calm down, sweetheart. It’s just for my own personal collection. I’m gonna be jerking off over that shit for weeks,” Steve gloats, taking a swig of his beer, your own lips dry and your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. “I guess a mother really will do anything for her kid, huh?” 
You want to vomit, tears of self resentment in your eyes as you wipe away Steves cum with the back of your hand. Bucky crouches down next to you, a gym towel in his hand as he swipes at the mess on your stomach. “Better get dressed. Frat meeting in 20.”
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Your body aches as you stretch out on your couch, the wine helping to ease your pounding head and the soreness lingering in your throat. The sound of the phone ringing on the side table makes you groan. 
“Hello?” you answer, swirling the chardonnay around in your wine glass. 
“Mom?” Josh chirps, panic embroiling you. “Hey, listen. I know I said I was thinking of dropping out but I think I’m gonna stick it out.” 
“Oh?” 
“Yeah. Yeah, they’ve actually been kinda… nice tonight.” 
“Well that’s wonderful, honey.” 
“Yeah. Listen, I gotta go.” You can hear the echoes of rowdy voices in the background, a party no doubt. “I just wanted to say thank you. You’re a great mom.” 
The phone cuts off and you look to Tony on the opposite end of the couch, a Wendy’s bag on his lap and his arm reaching out to you to offer you some of his fries; fingers coated in shiny grease. “Want one?” 
“No. No, thank you.” 
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mochinek0 · 1 year
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Daminette December 2022: 28-Family
The Parisian class stuck together as they were taken hostage by one of Gotham City's rougues. They patiently waited for Batman and the others to rescue them. Lila had told them, for months, how she personally knew him. That she was a civilian aide for the Bats. The whole city knew who she was, but pretended like they didn't to give her a sense of normalcy. The class cheered as Red Hood and Red Robin swing in to rescue them. Many of them looked around, but they couldn't find Batman.
Bruce Wayne sighed as he walked out of the car to the crime scene. He had a board meeting he couldn't get out of and had sent two of his sons to help. Dick and Damian were stuck as civilians with the rogue. It wasn't until Commissioner Gordon called him that he was able to cancel the board meeting for a later date. He quickly explained that he had to pick up his sons' from an attack and the board could see it was an important matter.
Bruce saw Red Hood and Red Robin were talking to some of the officers. Dick and Damian were walking towards him and thankfully, looked unharmed. Bruce noticed a girl not far from them and sighed. He walked passed his two boys and grabbed her arm. He started pulling her towards the car.
Marinette started to struggle and tried to dig her heels into the ground as a stranger pulled her away from the class.
"Let me go!" Marinette shouted, trying harder to get away.
The class watched helplessly as Marinette was once again in a hostage situation. Many people turned to see what was going on. When they saw what was happening, some of them chuckled and went back to what they had been doing. Marinette noticed the car looming closer.
'I hope this works, Maman!'
Marinette quickly turned and grabbed the back of his suit jacket. She kicked the back of one of his knees and when she felt the man's knees buckle, she quickly used her weight as leverage and tossed him to the ground.
"What the fuck do you think you are doing?" Marinette shouted, standing over him.
Bruce laid very still on the floor, confused. He could see the murky clouds and hear the lights from the sirens. It wasn't hard to notice the red and blue lights rotating in the sky. Dick and Damian rushed over to see what was going on.
"This psycho is trying to kidnap me!" Marinette shouted, pointing at the guy on the ground.
The Wayne brothers looked at her and then each other.
'Not again.'
"B, what were you doing?" Dick questioned.
"Trying to take you sister home." Bruce replied, "How hard did I hit my head? Your sister sounds like she's speaking a different language."
The eldest son laughed. The youngest sighed.
"Miss." Damian began.
Marinette glared at him.
"I apologize for my father." Damian spoke, "He is extremely tired. He's had a long couple of nights this past few weeks and early mornings the next day. The man next to me is one of my adopted siblings; they all have dark hair and blue eyes. He thought you one of his adopted children. He thought you were our sister."
Marinette looked at him in shock.
"I-I have parents!" she cried out, "I don't know him! Is that how he got all his other kids, just took them off the streets?"
Damian smirked, " Sometimes. Although, I doubt they minded when Bruce Wayne asked if he could take them home to live in our manor." as Dick picked up their father and dragged him to the car.
Marinette turned red and stammered, "Br-Bruce Wayne?"
Damian gently grabbed her hand and placed a kiss on it, "Damian Wayne."
Mari wasn't sure if she was turning a new shade of red.
"Oh no! I'm going to get out class sent home" She shouted, "We're the class he sponsored from Paris!"
The Wayne heir chuckled, "I can assure you, you have nothing to worry about. Our father will likely be the one apologizing to you. Too many late nights and too many board meeting make for a disastrous combination. We'll be making sure he is well rested. I'm sure we'll meet again, Miss Dupain-Cheng."
Damian strode over to the car and the Waynes took off.
Marinette collapsed on the ground, as her legs gave way.
"Give her some air!" GCPD shouted, escorting people farther away from her.
Gordon chuckled, "Never thought I'd ever see him that tired."
Marinette looked up to the older officer, "Does that happen often?"
"Him claiming kids?" He asked, "I think he has eleven, now, but only a few of them are adopted. My daughter goes to his place, too. She use to date one of his sons; now they're friends."
"Oh." Marinette whispered.
"But, his kid is right." Officer Gordon commented, "Usually the adopted ones have dark hair and blue eyes."
'Weird.'
"I think it's just because they remind him of himself." the commissioner continued, "As you can tell, Damian gets his skin tone and eyes from his mother. Other then that, Kid is the spitting image of his Father at that age. Weird to see him grown up a second time."
Marinette looked at him curiously, "How long have you known Mr. Wayne?"
Gordon frowned, "Almost his whole life. I was one of the officers who responded to his parents' murder. Happened tight in front of his, as a child."
'He's building his own family.'
"If I see him again, I'll make sure to decline his request." Mari smiled, "As nice as it sounds, I have my own parents in Paris."
Commissioner Gordon offered her his hand and helped her up. He decide it was best that he personally took her back to her class. It might also keep the media vultures at bay.
"I apologize about the confusion." Gordon chuckled, "He's just a tired man, who thought he was takign his daughter home. His sons will sort him out and make sure he sleep. I have no doubt about that."
The moment she reached the class, Adiren hugged her.
"Are you okay?" He shouted.
Alix shoved him away, "Forget that! She flipped him!"
"Yeah!" Nino shouted, "How'd you do that?"
"Maman." Mari answered
Her friends winced.
"Makes sense." They all commented.
Marinette saw that the commissioner looked confused, "My mother taught me."
"Ah." he smiled, "Have a good rest of the night."
Adrien, Kim, Alix, Max, Juleka, Nathaniel, Nino, and Chloe quickly checked over her.
"I'm okay." Marinette smiled.
Chloe's smile quickly turned into a frown, "It's ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous for you to get kidnapped!"
"I'm not the one who wanted to come to the most crime ridden city in the United States." Marinette commented.
Her group of friends glared at Lila and the others.
"That's right!" Kim snarled.
"It's their fault Marinette almost got kidnapped!" Ali screamed, pointing fingers at them.
"We said we should read up on the Rouges." Nino claimed.
"I believe many cities were offered up as alternatives." Max stated.
"Metropolis." Nino called out.
"Los Angeles." Nathaniel pouted.
"Star City!" Adrien whined.
"But no." Chloe rolled her eyes, "Liar Rossi knows Batman."
"He saved us!" Alya retaliated.
"No, Red Hood and Red Robin saved us!" Adrien exclaimed.
"Batman wasn't here to assist us." Max announced, "He did not appear before us and he did not speak to Lila in any way or form. He isn't even here at this scene. Surely he would have spoke to his civilian aide, if she is that well known by the city."
"Neither was Nightwing or Robin." huffed Nino.
"Or Black Bat." Juleka declared.
"Or Signal." pouted Kim.
"Or BatGirl!" declared Alix.
The rest of the class shifted uncomfortably as the other group made sense, yet again. It was only by one vote that they had decide upon Gotham and now they were coming to regret it.
Bruce Wayne blinked his eyes open and looked around the room.
'I'm home. I don't remember coming hime. How did I get here? Maybe Alfred or the boys know.'
Bruce got dressed for the day and descended to the dining hall for breakfast.
"Sir, I am going to tell you that you are banned from accessing the batcave and patrol for the next week." Alfred announced, "You require a large amount of rest."
'Am I sick? I don't feel sick.'
Bruce looked around the table to see his eldest boys snickering. Damian on the other hand was glaring at him.
'So not sick.'
"What-" he began to ask.
Damian slammed his phone down in front of his father and pressed play. Bruce watched as he grabbed a young girl's arm and attempted to drag her with him. They appeared to be at a crime scene. When they got close to the car, she grabbed his arm and flipped him onto his back.
'Well, that explains why my head hurts. Not a concussion, but close enough. Also explains why it looks like Damian is about to grab one of his katanas.'
"I don't remember this." Bruce stated.
"You were too tired." Tim chuckled, "You always go on and on about how I need to sleep. Looks like your sleep demon finally caught up with you."
"You claimed you were taking 'our sister' home." Dick smiled, "You claimed you must have hit your head because she wasn't speaking English."
Bruce groaned.
Damian grabbed his phone and sneered, "I had to explain you were nothing more than a sleep deprived buffoon and who you were. She's a foreigner; she's part of the class trip that you sponsored!"
Alfred set down a cup of coffee, a thermos, and some asprin in front of Bruce.
"Do becareful not to adopt anymore children today, Sir." Alfred stated, leaving the room.
As Bruce left the room, Jason called out, "So how are we placing the bet? Two hours until we have a new sister?"
'It's gonna be a long day.'
Bruce gulped as he noticed the class in the lobby of Wayne Enterprise. He took a breath and walked towards them. He could tell some people recognized him from the other night, by their warily glances.
Bruce cleared his throat, "Um, I'm told I tried to take someone home with me?"
Marinette peeked though and smiled. She moved through the class and held a box out in front of her.
"These are for you." She smiled, "Damian and Mr. Gordon explained how hard you work, Mr. Wayne."
The class froze and Lila backed up a bit.
"I often work too hard and the days blur together so I know what that's like." Marinette continued, "These are caramel and pretzel cookies. Damian said they were your favorite, after asking Alfred."
Bruce remained speechless.
"I'm sorry." Marinette frowned, "I do have to turn down your offer. I love my parents and they are in Paris. I'll be returning to them once the trip is over."
Bruce nodded, "Of course. I apologize again Miss Dupain-Cheng. Is there any way to make up this misunderstanding?"
"Just....accept the cookies?" Marinette replied, holding out the box again.
He smiled and took the box, "I hope the rest of your trip is enjoyable."
After Bruce walked away, her friends surrounded her.
"They guy who tried to kidnap you was Bruce Wayne?" Chloe shouted, "Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous!"
Marinette blushed, "Yeah. His son told me he was sleep deprived and the office said his adopted kids had dark hair and blue eyes. I just sorta fit in."
"Yes, it is quite the coincidence, but 100% accurate. The three boys he adopted were all of different nationalities, but the common look they all had was dark hair and blue eyes. His biological son resembles him tremendously, but has green eyes." Max declared.
"My parents probably would have packed my bags and handed me over." Nino chuckled.
Adrien laughed, "So would Father."
"You sure you don't want to change your mind?" Alix asked, "You could run after him."
Mari laughed, "No. I'm good."
Bruce smiled as the elevator dinged, to take him to his office floor.
Bruce took the box to this office and set it on his desk. He opened the box and saw an envelope placed on top of the sweets. He took out the envelope and a cookie. He placed the cookie in his mouth and smiled at the taste.
Hello, Mr. Wayne.
I'm sorry about the trouble for yesterday. I thought you should know that you should look into a student in the class named Layla Rossi. She prefers to go by Lila. She has been claiming to have connections to you and your family, that she knows Batman's identity, and various other claims.
I've already spoken to her and I've tried to get her to see the error of her ways, but she doesn't care. She claims to only be telling people what they want to hear. I'm sure you don't wish to hear about some random girl growing up with you. There should be a USB in the envelope; inside details all the lies and a list of what Lila has done. It will also tell you where to find proof and who you should contact.
Marinette Dupain-Cheng
Bruce inserted the USB into his laptop and brought everything up.
'She was right. It's very detailed. It was as if Tim had found everything for her.'
Bruce thought back to the smile she had given him as she turned down his gratitude.
'Smart and hides behind a smile. Much like how he portrays himself in front of the board and media.'
Bruce quickly picked pup his phone and dialed Damian.
"What?" Damian questioned.
"You are your mother's only child, right?" Bruce asked.
"Yes, why?" Damian asked, concerned, "What has Mother done this time?"
"Nothing." his father answered before hanging up.
'Well, Damian has no knowledge of her. Was this to convince me not to adopt her? If so, it wasn't working. Does she know I'm Batman?'
Bruce brought up the background check on her. Her parents were both alive and well. Her father was French-Italian and her mother was Chinese. Neither of them had contact with Talia or the League.
'Not adoptable, but she would be a good addition to the family or Wayne Enterprise. Damian talked to her the other day. He was even defensive of her at breakfast.'
Bruce picked up the phone and redialed his son.
"What now?" demanded Damian.
"Ask out Marinette Dupain-Cheng!" his father shouted.
Damian remained silent for over a minute, "Father."
"Win her over!" Bruce commanded.
The Wayne heir sighed, "You can't adopt her so you wish for me to persuade her through marriage."
"Yes." Bruce smiled.
Damian hung up the call. Bruce knew it was a long shot, but all his other kids were too old for Ms. Dupain-Cheng. When he got word that the class was leaving, he rushed downstairs to apologize once more. Imagine his surprise when he found Damian, dressed in a suit, speaking to Marinette and kissing her hand. She was even smiling at his son! Bruce watched as Damian led her away and out of the building.
'Damian listened to me!'
He was so letting Damian get another pet!
Marinette sat across from Damian at a small café, nearby.
"I had an interesting conversation with Father during lunch." Damian spoke.
"Oh?" she probed.
Damian smirked, "My father suggested I ask you out on a date because it was illegal to adopt you."
Marinette laughed, "When do you plan on introducing me as your girlfriend? We've been together for two years."
"I'll let him think it was his idea, for now." the Wayne heir answered, making his girlfriend giggle.
"I do wonder what you did to my father." he spoke up.
"Huh?" Marinette asked.
"He questioned if I had a sibling." Damian replied.
Mari smiled, "Oh, I gave him all of my data on the liar and fed him a type of cookie with Dupain-Cheng flair that you told me he liked.
"Smart. Can cook. Wayne looks." Damian began to list off, "We best be careful, Habibiti. I fear Father will push for a proposal, after four months, if I don't scare you away."
"Oh no." Marinette sarcastically declared, "What ever shall we do?"
"Do you think Alfred or Father would faint first, if I introduced you as my fiancée instead of my girlfriend?" Damian questioned.
"Neither." Marinette spoke, "After everything you've told me about them. I'm guessing Todd."
Damian chuckled.
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copperbadge · 9 months
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mreisse
As a newish cat owner, I have to ask what you do when you travel. Do you have a sitter come in? Leave food and water, they'll be fine? So far I've been lucky, my family takes care of the fluffbutts, but inquiring minds want to know your process
Figured I’d pull this out and reply to it on main :D If it’s only a day or two I generally don’t bother with a sitter -- like if I’m gone Friday night through Sunday afternoon or something like that. Mine are pretty self-sufficient and not super food-driven so in theory I could leave a bowl of food out with a few bowls of water and they’d be fine for 3-4 days, but two days is about the longest they can go without having their litterbox cleaned (if you have multiple boxes this is less of an issue but mine really only use one, and they share it, so it gets full fast). So if I’m gone any longer -- like this time, when I left Thursday and returned Monday -- I like to have someone come in daily. Yes, some of it is the litterbox, but also it’s just good to have someone looking to make sure they’re not hurt or sick. 
I used to ask friends to do it and depending on the situation I sometimes still will, but part of it was that I couldn’t find a good sitting agency (or individual sitter) who I felt I could trust, because I’d reach out to them and never hear back, which does not inspire confidence. I finally did find a really good agency, Purr Inc, which only handles cats (a lot of petsitters will only sit for cats if you also have a dog). They’re a local Chicago outfit and they’ve been fantastic every time. They send out reminders to “book care now!” before major travel holidays, they do booking entirely online, and you get an email daily with photographs and a little blurb about how the visit went. When I was delayed getting home because of the blizzard last December, I messaged them in a panic like “I’m stuck because of the Southwest meltdown, please can you send someone out for one more day; I know it’s a busy time and I’m happy to pay extra” and they got back to me within half an hour, got someone out there for the extra day, and didn’t charge extra for it. The daily fee isn’t insignificant, I think for the “standard” visit it’s $28/day, but worth it for the peace of mind, and I just budget for that when I travel. 
I found them just by googling “cat sitter chicago” and going through the various service sites until I found one that would come to my neighborhood, didn’t look shady, and responded to me when I asked for more information. 
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