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#prev sneaking up behind you and GETTING YOU
imsilay · 10 months
Text
LETHAL pt.3
NSFW! mdni +18, cw: possessive behavior, somnophilia, drugging (aphrodisiac), stalker!König, obsessive König, breeding k!nk, size k!nk. belly bulge, oral (female receiving) (idk lmk if i forget anything)
word count: 2.6k! (it’s too much for me :’) )
summary: he was picky and he picked you.
prev chapter here
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art cr: Tava_tavatic on twt
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A few days later you wake up feeling uneasy. You had a headache and somehow… horny. You got up and had a cold shower, hoping it would help. It helped… Untill you had a irresistible urge to have something inside your aching and dripping cunt at the work. It was a strange feeling, you assumed it was like that because it’s your ovulation day. Sitting on the chair while typing away on the laptop at work; you had to squeeze your thighs together to ease that feeling. Your pussy already soaked at the time you arrived to home. You cursed at yourself for wearing that skirt because the wetness between your legs were dripping down from your trembling thighs at the time you arrived your front door. You just wanted to open the door and satisfy your soaking cunt with your toys.
“Maus?” your heart skipped a beat when you heard his voice. ‘Please god, not him.’ you prayed. That man was extremely attractive and you were down bad for him. You stopped trying to open your damn door with trembling hands as you turned your head towards him and forced a smile. “Hi, König! What are you doing here?” you tried to be polite and calm, but in your head you were screaming for a dick.
"I saw you from over there," he said, pointing at the parking lot next to his apartment building. His accent sent waves of pleasure to your body. "You seemed in a rush. Are you alright?" There was sincerity in his voice and his icy-blue eyes were filled with concern. It made you blush, from cheeks to ears. You swallowed before answering, "It’s nothing important. I just forgot to feed my cat." It was obviously a lie. One of his eyebrows raised, but he nodded and watched as you entered your house after a short goodbye.
You were just so naive and clueless, thinking he wouldn’t notice you’re squirming with need. Of course he would know. He was the one who sneaked into your home and gave you aphrodisiac last night. He just gave you enough to make you needy so you could made it to home after work.
When he saw you getting out of your car, your legs trembling and cheeks flushed, he almost lost it.. He just wanted to drag you to his house and fuck you until you were a babbling and sobbing mess. Yet he managed to keep his calm. He was impatiently waiting for you to enter your house when he already had his eyes on the window, hiding behind the curtains. When you came to view his heart was beating like crazy. You locked the door of your room and opened the drawer, where you put your toys. Too eager for your sweet release you forgot to close your curtains…
He pressed his forehead against the window as he watched you satisfy yourself with different kinds of toys. His cock was rock hard but watching you was much more of an important matter. His cock twitched at the first time you cum, it was a sight to see. Your eyes rolling back as your hips twitched foward to the device. But one wasn’t enough. You needed more.
After two more orgasm you were sobbing and quivering. You just needed something for your aching cunt but nothing was enough. That was when he decided to step in. He was still so hard but he knew whatever he do it wouldn’t soften his cock. But you. He grabbed the keys of his house. And the cookies he made for you as an excuse.
The knocking on your door drew you back to reality from your bliss. You cursed at the person that knocked on the door as you got dressed into something that you’d wear at home. Your legs still trembling and pussy dripping, already soaked the new pair of your panties. You answered the door and hid the half of your body behind the door.
“Hallo, Maus. I brought you some cookies to fix your mood.” he said with that sweet tone. Your hands grabbed the door handle with a force that could kill a man. That was when you decided that. You would fuck that sweet neighbor.
He wondered why you were staring at him without a word. Were you mad at him because he interrupted your sweet time with your toys? Did you notice the bulge that was straining his pants? Or maybe the way he gazed at you hungrily made you feel hesitant to invite him in?
He was too lost in his thoughts, he dropped the cookies when you grabbed his arm and dragged him in. Pressing his back against the door and clinging to his arm. “König.” you whispered before biting your lips to not moan. His heart hammered his chest a few times like it was trying to escape from his chest to you. “Ja, Maus? Is everything okay?” he stuttered as he looked down at you. Your flushed face and the way you looked into his eyes intensely wasn’t helping.
“I need you.” you whimpered and pressed your body against his. “Can you please give me your cock?” you whispered softly and moaned when you felt his already hard cock against your stomach. He was so big. Like you imagined he would be, it made you even more needy.
“You- What?” he stuttered again. The last thing he expected was the way you rubbed your body against him as you pleaded for his cock. He was used to moving with a plan, but the way you ruined it was even better than he could imagine. By the time he collected himself you were grabbing his arm tightly like he would escape from you if you let go. His pupils were blown wide and body tense. “You have no idea what you’re wanting from me, Maus.” he mumbled and picked you up by your hips carrying you to your room like you weighed nothing and you wrapped your legs around him. The voice in his mind was screaming for him to take you in that moment. You weren’t complaining about being carried yet you were happy that he accepted. So clueless. If only you knew he was the cause of your endless neediness.
He made you straddle one of his thighs after removing your shorts and leaving you with your panties. “Show me how bad you want me to fuck you.” he said with authority in his eyes. You had a feeling that if you didn’t do as he said you won’t be getting anything. So you did. Hands on his shoulders as you grounded against his thigh. The fabric of your already wet panties soaking his trousers. You moaned as you felt his muscular thigh under your dripping cunt. He was so big and toned. You wondered what his cock looked like. Just thinking about it made you moan in need and your walls clenched around nothing.
He had to bit his lip to not moan at the sight in front of him. You were grounding against his thigh soaking his trousers and moaning like a bitch in heat. His cock throbbed in his pants. Oh how he wanted to tear your panties down and eat your little cunt out… Your body trembled and hips twitched. “Already, Maus? I haven’t seen someone cumming as fast as you.” he taunted. Your hips were already moving frantically to reach your sweet release. His hands found your hips groping them as he helped you move on his thigh. “Guess you really want me.” he mumbled amused with your efforts. You looked so hot when you used his body for your pleasure. “‘m so close, König.” you whimpered and your movements got erratic. You feel your stomach tightening up as he helped you ground against his thick thigh. “Let go for me, Maus.” he whispered sweetly. He knew it wouldn’t be enough for you anyway. Not until he filled you up with his big cock.
You gripped his shoulders tight as you cum undone on his thigh, eyes rolling back and body twitching. “Braves Mädchen.” he cooed as he laid you on your back gently and spread open your leg. “Do you still need my cock?” he teased. His hands caressing your thighs up and down slowly. “Yes. Yes, König. Please give it to me.” you pleaded with that sweet voice of yours, you had no idea how he wanted it too. He looked as calm and sweet as ever, but deep inside him, he was putting you into positions that he wanted to take you. First he would eat you out until you cum on his tongue like he imagined all nights. Then he would put you on all fours and pound into your needy cunt until you cream on his cock. This night he would fulfill all his sick fantasies and you would just let him take you over and over.
His calloused and lengthy fingers were making you shiver and imagine them deep inside you. You had to have it. “König, can you please…” you reached a hand and pulled his hand towards your mouth, as he watched you with curiosity. His mind went blank when you took his fingers into your mouth and swirled your tongue around them. “Scheiße-” he groaned and pushed his fingers into your mouth further. He fucked your mouth with his fingers, covering his index and middle finger with your drool. Your eyes rolled back with the rhythm of his fingers. “So fucking needy.” he growled when he pulled his fingers out of your mouth drawing a whine out of you. He quickly pulled down your panties and cursed again when he saw how your slick clinged to your panties leaving a trail. When the panties were gone, he pocketed it, he shoved his fingers into your dripping tight hole. You screamed when he found that sweet spot curling his fingers and hitting there again and again. “oh my-“ your legs trembled and hands gripped the sheets for dear life. It wasn’t long when your fourth orgasm hit you like a truck. “It amazes me how fast you cum, Maus.” he chuckled lightly as he continued to pump his fingers into you through your orgasm.
“That’s enough.” you whined and grabbed his forearm. His brows frowned and he sent you a warning look. You pulled your hands away immediately like you touched fire. “Nein. We aint stopping, Maus. Not until i make sure you’re mine.” he mumbled darkly as he leaned his mouth into your pussy. He licked from bottom to your clit making you shudder and moan loudly. You couldn’t bring yourself to stop him because you were scared of what he would do. His hands grabbed your thighs firmly to prevent you from closing them. He lapped at your pussy like he was thirsty for a month and you were his only water supply. His mask covering between your legs, where his mouth at, and you was glad it did. Because if you saw him eating you out like that you would’ve gone crazy. His icy-blue eyes found yours when he sucked your clit. The sensation was too much for you especially after cumming that much. “Plea-“ your breath hitched when he forced his tongue inside. Your eyes rolled back and you let out a high pitched scream. You cum all over his tongue and he gladly accepted your juices. Sucking and lapping hungrily.
“Du schmeckst so süß.” (You taste so sweet.) he mumbled as he licked you up for the last time. He pulled back reluctantly feeling like he could dive in again and make you cum over and over again. “Time for the main course, Maus.” he whispered into your ear. “Would you like to take off my mask? So you can see how much i will enjoy fucking your little cunt.” he purred. He was still gentle yet he made you feel weak. Like you couldn’t resist him, even if you wanted to. You grabbed the mask with trembling hands and pulled it off. This was the first time you saw him without his mask. He was handsome despite the scar on his face. Before you could say anything he slammed his lips to yours and grabbed your jaw forcing you to part your lips so he could explore your warm mouth with his tongue. You moaned softly and tasted your arousal from his lips. He swiftly unbuckled his belt with one of his hands and tugged his pants down along with his boxers. He groaned into your mouth when his cock was finally free and fully erected. His lips didn’t left yours as he pressed his red tip against your throbbing clit and made you squirm.
“I wonder were you this needy before the aphrodisiac i gave you.” he mumbled after releasing your lips. Your mind was too foggy after all your orgasms you barely understand what he say. “What did-” he cut you off again but this time shoving his cock inside your tight cunt. His tip hit your cervix and made your toes curl. “Too- Fuck. Too deep.” you sobbed. He stretched you out so deliciously but it hurt like hell. He was so fucking big his cock made a bulge on your belly. He groaned as he rested his forehead against yours. “It will be okay. You can take it, Maus.” he cooed. But it felt like he was sliding you open with his monster sized cock. “You feel so good around me.” he mumbled as he placed kisses on your face. He knew he was too big for you. You were so small compared to him, in every way. He let you adjust his length inside you but it become hard for him to not move when your walls clenched around him. “It hurts.” you cried and gripped his shoulders. “I know, Maus. You’re doing so good f’me.” he kissed your lips until your cries wane. You were so much important than him. He worshipped you.
“I’m gonna move.” he whispered and started to thrust into your tight cunt slowly at first. When your pussy adjusted his length, he picked up the pace. He was bullying his cock into your dripping hole with a merciless pace like he was taking revenge of the time he jerked off while watching you through the window. All you could do was dug your nails into his shoulders and scream his name.
“Scheiße.” he hissed. It was just like how he imagined it would be. He imagined your face twisting with pleasure and screaming his name as he bullied his cock into your little cunt. “Louder.” He slammed his hips into yours hard. Your pussy swollen and dripping from all the stimulation. “I said louder.” he hissed and smacked your hips hard. He wouldn’t stop until you did as he said. So you did. You screamed his name as loud as you can. It made his cock twitch hearing you forcing yourself to slur his name out. “Braves Mädchen.” he cooed as he slammed his lips harder into yours. He threw his head back and groaned when you cum unannounced, creaming on his cock and crying his name. Your walls clenched around him drawing him to edge as he fucked the orgasm out of you. “König, i can’t… anymore.” you whimpered between your sobbing. Hearing you beg him with your voice hoarse from all the screaming and moaning, made him cum deep inside you. “Mine.” he mumbled as he fucked his cum into you. “You’re mine, Maus. And i won’t let you leave me anymore.” he mumbled like he was talking with himself. It sent chills down to your spine. He didn’t pull his cock out plugging his cum into your pussy. You didn’t even had the strength to push him away. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and put your head onto his chest. He wouldn’t let you go. Never. You were his.
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a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3 your comments also makes my day :*
also i post everyday -sometimes 2 posts in a day- so if you follow me i won’t disappoint ;)
this work is basically all the things i want him to do to me.
….
@mitchlow
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disneyprincemuke · 6 months
Text
is it killing you like it’s killing me?
alternatively: we haven’t spoken in almost a week (prev)
in which she and logan try to navigate the worst part about dating your literal coworker
(series masterlist)
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logan sits in his seat, leaning forward to prop himself up on his elbow as he tries to type away on his phone in the least awkward way possible. he hears the heels clicking against the gravel first before he catches a whiff of a familiar floral scent.
he doesn't turn his head directly, just shifts his eyes to his side, watching his literal girlfriend walk right past him without even stopping by to greet him. he can almost make out the sound of her sweet voice amidst the noise around him, her shocking choice for a dark motif outfit contrasting against the pure white of the person next to her.
only then he realises that his girlfriend is quite literally walking around the paddocks with mercedes personnel. she engages in casual conversation with susie wolff every once in a while around the paddocks, but never has he seen her out and about with her. mick trails behind them, looking down at his phone as he matches their pace.
upon simply walking past the williams patio, mick looks up at the lack of the younger driver's acknowledgement of the guy in blue sitting very obviously in the white chair. mick cranes his neck back, shooting logan a questioning stare.
to which, logan only shrugs. mick is one of the few friends that she decided to tell; by that, he means that they got caught sneaking around the paddocks last year right by the haas racing home.
"still walked right past you?" a british accent makes logan tear his eyes off his girlfriend, meeting alex's brown eyes as he approaches the table. "how bad was the fight that you guys had?"
"pretty bad," logan mutters with a small smile, putting his phone down gently on the table. "did george tell you anything? did she tell them anything about the fight we had?"
alex frowns, shaking his head. logan came out and confessed that they, in fact, have been in a relationship for about two years. at first, alex was a bit appalled that logan was able to lie to him so fluently for the majority of the season.
after he processed his initial reaction, which only took about a minute or so, alex cheered and congratulated logan. as far as alex was concerned, it physically hurt to watch this young man be head over heels for someone he presumed to not be as interested in him as he is with her.
with his new-found knowledge of their involvement, alex went on a mission to pry george and lando - the people she's consistently stuck with all week - to try and figure out if she's said anything to them. or, has at least told them what's running through her mind.
alex did immediately run off. he was not glad to find out that his friends found out before him, but was very excited to share his new discovery.
he ran to the mercedes' racing home about an hour ago, squealing and giggling as he yanked george away from toto to talk. they were shortly joined by lando, spewing detailed accounts of the night he caught them in japan on a date.
then lando dropped his giggles, shaking his head at the assumption that their fight looked like it had gotten pretty bad. george then perks up, whispering very softly and incoherently about how bad it had seemed two nights ago during the opening ceremony rehearsal.
"they said she's been quite reserved since the first night," alex explains, lips pursed as he tries to remember everything that had nothing to do with the fact that he disappeared for a hot half hour because they derailed from the original topic of conversation.
alex found themselves talking about how they saw her crying in max's arm the other night, then concluding the conversation with what hair colour he should get next. "they said she's been with max a lot. hasn't even really talked to oscar, lando said."
logan scoffs, locking his jaw. he's not saying he's jealous of max verstappen, though it does seem to be that way to the naked eye.
okay so he's jealous of max verstappen. but in his defence, who wouldn't be? logan finds himself consistently at the back of the grid race after race, and there is his girlfriend sharing simple celebrations with the two-time world champion.
more often than not, on a race weekend, when she has to force a little distance from him to avoid partaking in the rumour mill, she's adopted by the older drivers to shower with information and a lot of love.
"yeah, she was walking with susie earlier," logan gestures at the long stretch ahead of them in the paddocks. "and she's wearing black."
"black?" alex repeats, raising an eyebrow. "like full black?" logan nods. "oh, you guys have got to talk soon. how long haven't you talked?"
"about a week."
"god," alex cries, rubbing his eyes. "okay, okay. we'll find a way to make you guys talk, okay?"
"how? she's been avoiding me all week. and i think this is something we need to come together on our own and figure out."
logan does have a big ego, but it all seems to fall apart when it comes to her. it's always been a topic for shits and giggles growing up though that seemed to change after they went on their first date.
almost immediately, everyone could tell how head over heels he was just for her.
"yeah, but neither of you is even trying?" alex points out, tilting his head and furrowing his eyebrows. "are you serious?"
"i can see how i worded that wrongly."
alex pushes his chair back, heading straight for the building behind them. "i will consult the madman. wait right here."
"whoa!" logan calls out, throwing his arms in the air. "you told your girlfriend that i have a girlfriend? dude, you were sworn to secrecy!"
"you're not as convincing as (y/n), from what i heard," alex purses his lips together, shaking his head. "and, lily knew before me, anyway. oscar's girlfriend whispered it in her ear when they went to the club last night when (y/n) refused to go out on the dance floor."
"fine. but come back with good news only."
"i'll try my best."
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"it wasn't easy, i guess," toto shrugs, his office chair being manoeuvred around his small office by his feet planted against the floor. he stirs the coffee in his cup and looks at the girl curled into a ball in the chair on the other side of his table. "you need to put each other above the results of a weekend. you should not have let that get to you."
"but i guess it is kinda hard watching your girlfriend achieve the things you want to also be achieving," susie mutters, fingers pressed against her lips as she thinks.
for susie to know of her relationship with logan, you'd have to date back to over two years ago. susie had been fully vouching for her, trying to get her opportunities in a higher level to help her progress. so, of course, she had to excitedly tell susie about it.
if there was anyone who would be supportive, it's her. and susie didn't find a problem in their relationship, only claiming to tread carefully since they are always racing against one another.
susie is just more surprised that the difference in performance and the pressure of it all only just got to them now. racing alongside one another in f2 should have been the one that did it, but she guesses it's because they used to be a lot closer in the results back then.
"basically," toto sighs, blowing cold air into his cup of coffee. "put your relationship first if you want to make this last. and i know logan means a lot to you, so i am sure you will find a way around this."
"but why did it feel like it was my fault that he wasn't achieving the same things as me?" she sighs, throwing her head back into the wall with a soft thud. she looks at the ceiling of toto's office, knees to her chest as she hides away from the cameras and the prying questions of those who know of their relationship.
"you need to come together in the moments of hard times," toto mutters, shaking his head. "he's not doing well; you are doing well. find a middle ground."
"how am i supposed to do that, toto?" she yelps, melting into the seat, legs and arms spreading as she scratches the top of her head. "we literally just had the biggest fight of our relationship. two nights ago, i didn't even think there was no other way out of this but a breakup until max made me talk to susie."
the reason she's been following max instead of sebastian around all weekend is because she thought that he would be able to figure it out with her. alas, they were both stumped that night of the rehearsals, sipping on beer in a nearby bar.
she found herself hopeless, bracing herself to admit defeat to the pressures of dating someone within the sport. until max perked up after chugging half his glass of gin and tonic, eyes shimmering as the greatest idea he's had all night finally came to him.
"you know who i bet had to navigate a tricky situation?" max asked her, pointing a finger to her face knowingly. "susie and toto."
she hesitated, but max did make a compelling case. all he had to say was: "she used to race and he was an investor in the motorsport."
"i think," susie speaks, then pauses as she flutters her eyes to think for a moment, "that you're both great kids."
"thanks, that's exactly what my mum said," she answers flatly, unamused at the answer.
"so it might not be as difficult to resolve it," susie smiles. "i'm sure you can find a way."
"i'm here because i don't know a way," she repeats, throwing her arms around in the air. "you can't just say that to me and expect me to come up with a resolution instantly. i've avoided my boyfriend for almost a week because i thought there was only one solution!"
susie exchanges a smile with her husband, who is quietly giggling to himself at his table. then she looks at the young driver with a smile that emits less ridicule. "i can't do that for you. you have to figure it out with him; not us."
"are you saying i need to go and talk to him?" she frowns, folding her arms over her chest. "like i have to go up to him and talk to him? in person?"
"you can't do it over text message," toto frowns in confusion. he lifts his eyes to look at susie. "right?"
"she can," susie laughs, sitting on the armrest of his seat. she looks at the driver again. "but she shouldn't."
“handle this like an adult.”
“fine.”
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logan was simply minding his own business in his driver's room when alex barged in (he's been doing that for the past week because he knows there's no possibility of a girl inside) and dragged him out.
he wasn't going to ask questions, he just followed alex blindly, dropping his head low in confusion.
right by the steps that lead into the william's racing home, their small group is huddled into a makeshift circle. they're leaned in with hushed whispers and excited giggles with lando even getting a bit loud with every couple of words he said.
she likes to call them the elite group that's somehow managed to find out about her and logan, though everyone argued with her that they didn't make much of an effort to really keep it under wraps.
"okay, so we came up with a plan," alex says, finally letting go of logan's sleeve.
max lifts his head, hands on his hips. "i wouldn't trust any plan you come up with."
"hey, i came up with that plan," lily.m scoffs, holding a hand against her chest. "excuse you."
"oh, then that's better," george agrees with a smile. "so what have you come up with?"
"really? you trust a plan that had alex's input on it?" lando cries, scratching his head. "you're gonna break them up! that's not the outcome we're trying to achieve, people! focus!"
"highly offended, actually," lily.m frowns. "like you can come up with a better plan."
alex waves his arms in the air in an attempt to hush the chatter that his friends are in. "no, listen! it's a good plan!"
"i also have a plan," mick speaks up, reaching his arm out into the middle of the circle to get their attention.
"i'd trust him more than whatever you two have come up with," max mutters, pointing at the couple accusingly.
logan actually appreciates the banter that's going on and it almost makes him forget the real reason they've all gathered here today. it's refreshing to be the one in the middle of older drivers' conversations.
this must be why his girlfriend has grown quite fond of them. but it's hard not to feel like an outsider.
"hey, we spent the better part of our alone time in my driver's room scheming!" alex defends himself, reaching out to push mick's arm away.
"hey, don't do that!" george laughs, smacking the back of alex's hand. "apologise!"
"guys," oscar finally speaks up. "i think we should address the problem at hand?"
"we will, but max says my plan would never work!" alex squeaks. "take that back!"
"i'm only speaking the truth!"
"but mate-"
"what are you guys doing?"
"hold on, (y/n), max is being- (y/n)!" alex screams just as everyone turns their head to find the smaller girl looking up at their group with a weird stare. she holds a pepsi tightly in her hands, pressing it against her chest as she takes an innocent sip.
logan feels his heart drop at the sight of his confused girlfriend standing there staring at them with wide eyes. but he also just feels an overwhelming surge of relief finally being this close to her again.
oscar is right: this is the longest they've gone without talking since they all met during karting. even his months-long trips back to florida never kept them apart from one another for this long. a couple days at best before they start falling back into old habits.
"we're having a," max trails, turning his head back to desperately search for somebody who can finish his sentence for him. "a..."
"we're discussing what to get for supper after the opening ceremony later," lily grins, elbowing oscar beside her to push him forward slightly.
oscar stumbles a step forward, clearing his throat as he meets his best friend's eyes. "yeah, we haven't found a place yet. we were just about to find you to ask you if you had any ideas!"
"and you're all going together?" she asks suspiciously, her eyes slowly scanning the participants of the circle. she momentarily meets logan's eyes before she settles for oscar's gaze again. "all of you?"
lando looks around, realising how weird their group has grown to be. he takes the initiative to answer her: "yeah. why not?"
she presses her lips together, moving her head to the side slightly to show him that she's not entirely buying the lie. "really?”
“yeah,” max nods excitedly. “we couldn’t find you so we discussed first.”
“but i’ve never seen you,” she points at oscar, then at logan, “and you hang out with george before.”
logan raises his eyebrows, taken aback by her sudden verbal acknowledgement of his presence. he shrugs, then turns his head to oscar for help.
“what, we can’t get to know each other over dinner?” george calls out with a scoff. “all this criticism — do you even know of a place we can go to to get some late-night food?”
“can it wait?” she asks sweetly with a small smile. “i kinda need to talk to logan alone.”
there’s a moment of silence.
“you’re making dinner plans without us, aren’t you,” mick jokes, furrowing his eyebrows at her. “why would you do that?”
she laughs, walking towards her boyfriend with a hand held out to his arm. “i just need to steal him for a little while — i promise we’ll head out to supper with you guys tonight.”
her hand lands on logan’s arm, wrapping itself around his arm. “we’ll catch you guys later?”
“okay,” max answers hesitantly. “don’t forget to think of where to eat.”
“max,” alex says through gritted teeth, hitting his shoulder.
“what?” max asks innocently, throwing his arms in the air as they start to pull away from the group.
she barely takes two steps away from them before she whispers to him, “can i talk to you for a bit?”
“yeah, of course,” logan nods, putting a hand on the small of her back. “your room?”
she nods with a small smile, then picks up her pace. she reaches back for his wrist, making him flinch at the first feel of her skin he’s gotten in the longest time. but he doesn't pull away, just lets the sliver of skin he can feel past the cuff of his fireproofs warm him up.
she rushes up the stairs leading up to the door of her racing home, head hung low as they navigate an all too familiar route. a route he hasn’t taken all week, but has been wanting to, and coward away from.
they’ve only got 15 minutes to figure this out in one sitting before it’s considered suspicious. they never stay in for too long to avoid suspicions within her team. just like a teenage couple would, they eventually keep the door open to prove that they're definitely not doing anything suspicious inside.
she greets her team principal with a small smile before she disappears into the stairs with logan still letting himself be dragged in by her. she makes a quick sharp turn into her room and closes the door behind her.
she faces the door, her heart racing in her chest and her hands start to sweat at the thought of confrontation over their intense fight. she came straight from toto's office and went to find logan, only to be told by james that he was dragged out by alex a few minutes prior.
she takes a deep breath and turns around and barely has the time to process just how much she's missed her boyfriend because she's being pulled into his arms in a tight hug.
"i'm sorry," logan mutters into her hair, his arms desperately clinging to her smaller frame.
she slowly lifts her arms, wrapping them around his torso to return the tight grip. "i'm sorry. i didn't mean what i said - i'm sorry."
"no, you're right. it's not my fault that i can't deliver for races. i shouldn't have taken it out on you," logan sighs, pulling away. "it's- oh, please don't cry."
"i'm sorry," she repeats, starting to heave heavily out of guilt. just the sheer thought that breaking up might have been the only way has been eating at her all day. "logan, i-"
"please don't cry," logan whispers, his lips pressing as a knot forms on his forehead. great. now they're both crying. his thumbs swipe over both her cheeks in an attempt to dry her tears but the new ones just keep undoing his efforts. "you can cry but don't make me cry. only one of us can cry at a time."
and then she couldn't hold it in anymore. she breaks into a louder cry. "i'm sorry i thought breaking up was the only way out of this. i'm sorry - i just didn't see how we could have moved past something as big as what we were fighting about. i love you, logan, but i didn't know what else i could do. i'm sorry."
suddenly it felt like someone had thrown a knife directly into his chest. the entire week, the thought that she might have considered breaking up with him came up many times. he was good at keeping those thoughts at bay, but hearing it directly from her lips just felt different.
it hurt differently when it came from the person you think is your soulmate.
"oh."
she stifled a sob when he straightened his back and dropped his hands from her cheeks. "i didn't know what to do. i'm sorry. i didn't know how long more we could go on walking on eggshells every race we would have. i hated hurting you like that every weekend. i hated seeing you force smiles, laughter and neverminds just to accommodate to me.
"i," she cuts herself off, forcing herself to swallow the sob that's bubbled up from the deepest part of her chest. she tries to blink her tears away, but it falls anyway. she turns away from him momentarily to wipe it away on the cuff of her fireproof. "i couldn't keep doing that to you."
"you," logan sighs, throwing his head back, palms covering his eyes. "you really think that i care about any of that? i contemplated; i told you, two years ago every single outcome our relationship could have on us! you knew this was bound to happen and now you're telling me you thought about ending it over this?"
"because i saw the way you would look at me every weekend! you didn't look at me the way you did in singapore when i was up on that podium when we were in bahrain at the start of the year. you can say you love me and that you're happy for me, but i can tell!"
"tell what?"
"i can tell that however much you loved me wasn't going to be enough for you to push away the growing feeling of-" she sighs, and tears her eyes away from him. she settles for the teddy bear sitting on her bean bag. she presses her lips together, jaw locking as she hates herself for what she's about to say. "of eventually hating me."
"why would you ever think that i could grow to hate you?" logan rubs his face roughly, then runs his hands through his hair. "i- god, i'm so in love with you! i was - i am - happy for you, but i could also see the pity in your eyes every weekend that i would finish behind you! you're sorry for me! i don't need that from you - everybody already always looks at me that way."
"because i know you on the track! i've raced against you my entire career - i know what you're capable of!"
"then why do you keep looking at me like i'm always just going to crash out every race?"
"i want to see you succeed! i hate seeing you like this! i hate having to go everywhere and watch and listen and look at people speaking about you like this! you're nothing like what they say!"
"i don't need your pity! i need you to be my girlfriend - i put you above what happens on a race weekend. if you succeed, then you succeed and then you can go and celebrate! but i never minimised any of your achievements just because my race went haywire. if i crash out and you've somehow managed to break a record, that's okay! it's doesn't fucking matter, because your achievements obviously mean the entire world more than that.
"stop trying to think of what i will feel when you succeed. i'm your boyfriend - i am always going to be happy for you. separate our results from our relationship. if you keep letting it get in the way, this will never work."
she straightens her back and snaps her head to him. "you want to break up with me?"
"no," logan sighs, shaking his head tiredly. he takes a step forward, her eyes dropping to his feet then lifting it to meet his eyes. "i don't want to break up with you, i'm just- i didn't speak to you very nicely before we left for vegas. i think i didn't word myself appropriately and i'm sorry."
"you were right about some points, honestly, it doesn't-"
"i didn't mean to blame you for the way i was feeling, and neither was it my intention to back you into a corner because i couldn't get a grip in an f1 car. it's not right."
"but, logan-"
"stop trying to take care of me and my feelings. i promise i always literally get over it when i see your team throwing you around when you make history."
"that's not fair," she says softly, leaning into his touch when he lifts his hand to cup her cheek. "you can feel feelings too. i don't want you to deprive yourself of that."
"i can be sad about it another day that doesn't interfere with you. it doesn't matter what i'm feeling retiring from a race when you never fail to deliver results."
"that doesn't solve my problem, logan. i don't want you to hate me."
"i'm never going to hate you," he laughs softly, throwing his arms around her for another embrace. "why would you ever think that?"
"because i've seen this happen to friends in the same field. one succeeds more than the other, and the latter can't cope. it almost always ends up falling apart."
"emphasis on 'friends'," logan smiles slightly, bending down to meet her at her height. "you're my girlfriend. we're always going to have to find ways around shit like this. we knew that when we started dating. right?"
"yeah? but it just doesn't sound like a solution i'll be okay with."
"i promise i'm trying to get better so i can redeem that one deal we made in bahrain at the start of the year."
"god, logan! you're disgusting!" her hand comes down to land a smack on his shoulder.
he bursts out laughing and leans down again to make their noses touch. "we're going to be okay."
"really?" she grins shyly, her hand resting above the back of his hand that's pressed up against her cheek. "you really think we'll be okay even if we're in f1 for the rest of our lives?"
"i know so. i know that because my mama didn't raise no quitter - i'm never leaving you."
"why'd you have to ruin it?"
"it was getting too sappy."
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"maybe i preferred you guys when you were fighting," max scoffs, walking away from the seat he's just been evicted from. "you were able to act like two normal human beings."
"everything about this week is normal!" george cries, shaking his head. "she wore sunglasses indoors after making fun of me for it! how is that fair?"
"i literally told you i'm sitting next to logan," the younger driver states, glaring at max. "you went and sat next to him anyway. you did this to yourself."
"we're in america - it's called first come first serve."
"i literally don't think that's how it works," alex sighs, turning to look at max. "be better, max."
"trust me, i'm trying."
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kidy/n
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liked by logansargeant, blythe.yln and 73,482 others
kidy/n guys we’re still friends i promise i just can’t stand him when he makes me go fish with him because huh
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logansargeant no cuz why did u post this
logansargeant i thought you were joking
kidy/n learn to take me seriously every once in a while idk
oscarpiastri appropriate picture to end the us races imo
sebastianvettel ?
yukitsunoda0511 i’ll go fishing with u logan :/
lilyzneimer i’m going to have to disagree on this y/n
kidy/n please say jk right now i know you’re not defending this fish murderer
georgerussell63 hahahahahahahaha
kidy/n ?
williamsracing can we borrow these pics? asking for a friend
kidy/n merch with these photos?
williamsracing we’ll deliver it straight to your doorstep
logansargeant ???
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@littlesatanicassholebitch @what-is-happening-helpp @myxticmoon @gentlyweeps-world @nerdfromanotherworld @n7ytiri @alliesreblogs
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moralesmilesanhour · 1 year
Text
teamwork (makes the dream work...?) pt. 2.5
summary: you bump into Miles at the bodega. whoops.
wc: 900+
warnings: implied food insecurity, wasted sandwich </3
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…Or so you thought.
Standing right in front of you in the crowded bodega ordering a beef patty was none other than Mr. Morales himself, drowning in a huge black puffer jacket. As soon as he finished, he stood off to the side, eyes glued to the floor and shifting from one foot to the other.
“What you want, miss?” The man at the counter broke you out of your reverie, looking impatient.
“Sorry, just a BLT, please,” you called out over the din of music and loud conversation. The man nodded, yelling out your order to two other men standing over a hot stove beside him. 
You moved to the side, near the snack aisle where Miles was standing. His eyes seemed to remain on the ground, so you sneak glances at the side of his face, starting from his ears. They were pierced, but currently barren. You move up to his cheek, where a stray lash has fallen. The boy's lashes were just long enough to brush it. They fluttered as his pupil darted to the side, and you realized that you were making eye contact.
"Whoah, can I get my face back?"
Miles had caught you just before your eyes could flicker away. He had that same ‘the sky is blue’ look that he gave you on the first day you were seated together. You quickly turned away without a word, opting to examine the snacks lining the rack behind you.
“No ‘hello’?”
You spun around, bag of Takis in-hand.
“What?”
“You just gon’ stare into my skull and not even say ‘hello’?”
You scoffed at the boy’s sudden interest in etiquette.
“Fine, hi.”
One of the cooks called out both of your orders, sliding them across the counter wrapped in aluminum foil as the two of you went up to the front.
“Bye.”
Miles grabbed his food first before weaving through the crowd towards the exit.
That is, until you try to squeeze out of the door before him. Your face plants into the plush material of his jacket before you stumble onto the cracked sidewalk outside, your poor sandwich open on the ground before you could even take a bite.
Groaning, you hear a few ‘Ohhh’s behind you as you squat to pick the two halves up to throw them out. This was supposed to be your dinner.
Miles watches you toss them into a nearby trash can, and makes a decision.
“Yo,” he waved you over. His face looked like it was holding onto a laugh, and you rolled your eyes.
“Now is really not the time, Morales.”
“So I guess you not tryna eat, then?”
You paused, and looked at the boy skeptically. He didn’t seem like the type to be above making you eat things off the floor. As if you had communicated with him telepathically, Miles shrugs his shoulders and nods.
“That’s fair,” he says to himself. 
Your eyebrows raise in surprise when he makes long strides over to you instead. He carefully opens up the aluminum to reveal the golden pastry inside, and you watch him carefully split it in half with his fingers before offering the piece. You look up at Miles, then the patty, then back up at Miles. His expression softened into a knowing look.
“I’m not gonna ask for no money back, if that’s what’s on your mind.”
Finally, you take it. It was either this, or Takis and sleep for dinner.
 “Thanks.”
The sky had taken on a deep blue shade, and worry crept onto your features as the street lights began to flicker on.
“I gotta walk home,” you said flatly. “See you tomorrow–”
“By yourself?”
Even as it got dark, you could make out the deep frown on Miles’ face.
“It’s not that far, relax.”
“How far?”
Your tongue pushed against the inside of your cheek before you muttered, “Three blocks…”
Miles stuck his hands in his pockets. “Look, ion like yo’ ass, but I can’t have you walking around here by yourself in the dark. Lemme walk you two blocks,” he put two fingers for emphasis, “at least.”
You tilted your head at him, but agreed. 
“Slow down,” you complained as you struggled to keep up with the long-legged boy. The both of you had been walking for barely twenty minutes, but your feet were already starting to hurt from having to jog up to him.
“Walk faster,” Miles laughed. 
Silence settled in between you as the streets got quieter, save for the bustling of traffic in the distance.
“Is it true what people say about you?” you ask, suddenly breaking it.
“Be more specific.”
“Like, are you in a gang? You don’t gotta tell me which. And how the hell you flunk outta school on purpose? Do you really do graffiti-”
“First of all, I’m not in no fuckin’ gang,” Miles had stopped walking abruptly. “You see any tats on me?”
“You’re wearing a coat.”
You hear Miles suck his teeth, and snicker.
“Well, I don’t have one. My momma would put me in the dirt if I did,”
He resumed his speed-walking, and you break into another light jog to stay next to him. “The other two are true, though.”
“Why?” you ask, a little out of breath.
“Do you know how to use complete sentences?”
“Why’d you flunk on purpose? Graffiti, I can understand. That, I can't.”
Miles was silent for a few moments, and you considered retracting the question before he finally replied.
“Visions…wasn’t really for me.”
You want to press further, piece together how a kid with a strict mother and a knack for advanced calculus could just…decide that school ‘wasn’t for him’. But the way he mumbled his answer told you he wouldn’t divulge any more, and your house was just up ahead. You’d walked all three blocks.
“This is me,” you say as you slow your pace. “Thanks again.”
“Yup, g’night,” Miles calls behind him, already strolling in the opposite direction.
-
Whew, okay! I hope y’all enjoy this one even though it’s technically not a full chapter. Now I’ll ACTUALLY give myself a week to work on the next one lmao. As always, feel free to leave any reactions, questions, or comments in replies/tags/my asks! thx for reading <3
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Deadline - BTS OT7 CEO AU Chapter 15
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This is what I call the fluff before the fall, there are a few events mentioned here that aren't in previous chapters but are in canon drabbles/pseudo drabbles, so I recommend you read this and this before the chapter below. 4.6k words
Hope you enjoy 💜
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Seven boyfriends, seven days a week, might sound like a lot for one person to handle, especially since now you were sexually active with them. It was as if you unleashed Pandora's box but instead of a plague that kills the world, it was seven sexy men that didn’t want to let you go to sleep alone. 
“Min Yoongi, why are you in my bed on a weekday?” Your eyes narrow in suspicion at the man staring at the ceiling. You just walked out of the ensuite in nothing but your robe, if he thought this was easy pickings he had another thing coming. 
“Relax kitten, I just wanted to talk,” he sighs, turning onto his side so he can face you, a soft but sad smile on his face that made you want to climb into bed with him and cuddle, so you did.
“You’re not here to break the rules?” you tease, arms wrapping around his middle when he embraces you. It earns you a chuckle at least.
“Because that worked out well for me last time,” he shakes his head. “You and your rules.”
“Who would’ve thought the roles would reverse huh,” you say absentmindedly, trying not to laugh.
“What do you mean?” He frowns, seemingly confused, he was never an enforcer of the ‘rules’, that was you and Namjoon. 
“Well you always went against them while Joonie lived by them, and now…”
Well now Namjoon had a new lease on life, where before he would always be militant with those broad shoulders of responsibility that carried the weight of everything, now he was a lawless man, and your biggest deviant. Since that morning you were both late to your respective workplaces, the one where he ate you out for breakfast and then fucked you against the counter, the troublesome trio became the least of your problems. Now it was Namjoon that tried to keep you up late on a work night until you had to force him out of the room. Namjoon who tried to sneak into the shower with you in the mornings, pretending he was going to behave and be good, “we’ll save water baby girl” he tried one morning. Seriously, did he think you were stupid? Namjoon who wanted to hold your hand all morning before you walked out the door for work, the others yelling at him that he was hogging you, while you tried to do your morning routine one handedly (his grip was strong). But he didn’t care, the others had gotten away with more in his eyes, it was his turn. 
“And now you’ve unleashed the monster in Kim Namjoon,” Yoongi finishes your thoughts for you, shaking his head before sighing, “can’t blame you too much, it was always there.” 
Too many times this week he’s had to be the level headed one, he’s sure it's just a phase but it needed to end quickly or Yoongi was going to get a headache. 
“It’s been a week, why is he still mad at me and not you?” Yoongi grumbles into your hair.
“I had sex with him,” you deadpan, shrugging before you bury your giggles in his chest. 
“Ah this is why Jimin calls you a vixen,” he thinks aloud playfully, making you pull back to look at him in question, did he?
“Well that’s a new one…” Your arms come around his neck, looking up at him longingly, waiting for him to figure out what you wanted without asking for it. 
“No it isn’t, he just calls you that behind your back, when you’re being too enticing for your own good,” he kisses your nose.
Your cheeks burn as you scoff, ‘enticing’, what was wrong with them?
“Like right now,” he calls you out, your favourite gummy smile beams endearingly at you when you gasp in mock outrage.
“I’m not doing anything right now,” you deny, ready to bicker with him.
“Hmmmmm,” his gaze changes dangerously, eyes almost mocking you, “So you’re not asking me for a kiss right now?”
You scrunch your nose, pressing your lips together to hold back a smile, dammit he could see right through you.
“No I’m not,” you shake your head, holding your head proudly. “You’re reading into things.”
“I don’t think so, Kitten,” he hums again. “I can read you perfectly.”
This time round he accepts defeat easily in your playful little squabble, lips pressed against yours and you both smile. 
Kim Jongin was a flirt, a shy one at times, but when the women bundled around him he couldn’t help but flirt, hopeless romantic and all. You however indulged him in no such thing, and he couldn’t help wondering why. He wasn’t serious, he was playing around, everyone knew it, but you didn’t even acknowledge it. 
He even called Jimin to ask him if something was wrong with you and after about a minute of silence on the other end from his friend, where he thought the line disconnected and called his name repeatedly, he got lectured for an hour. His friend and business rival went on and on about how he shouldn’t pursue you, and you were all business and professional and … well he stopped paying attention after that. But it did make him curious. It was almost a challenge, the cliche of forbidden fruit.
“Y/n you’re practically glowing today,” he says in passing, interrupting your conversation with your supervisors. 
You stop speaking for a second, looking at him briefly before resuming whatever it was you were saying. Heechul hides a snicker poorly, covering it up with a cough, not even paying attention to you.
“Aren’t you going to tell me how good I look?” Jongin presses, pout on his face, his eyes drooping in faux sadness. 
You almost glare at him, and he kind of likes it, the fire in your eyes. Why did Jimin warn him against you? Surely he would want to set up his friend with such a woman, or at least keep her to himself.
“Oh Director Kim you look so handsome today,” Kyunghoon says dramatically, Heechul unable to stop his laughter this time. It takes everything in you not to roll your eyes. 
“Somethings wrong with Y/n if she doesn’t see how handsome our favourite director is,” Kyunghoon continues, trying to act cute. You look at him disgustedly, what a suck up, and that was coming from you, the world renowned teacher’s pet. 
“I heard she went on a date with Mark and then ghosted him,” Heechul stage whispers to his boss as if it’ll win him favours. “I don’t think Y/n is good enough for our precious director.”
You lost count of how many times your eyes rolled in annoyance, it wasn’t a reflex you could help otherwise you would’ve thought twice before doing it in front of your boss and two supervisors. 
“It wasn’t a date,” you grunt, frowning at the paperwork. It was bad enough your boyfriends thought the same, and you sincerely paid for that. You shudder involuntarily, skin starting to heat up as you try to push the memories of those nights out of your head since you were at work. 
“Someone should’ve told Mark,” Heechul mutters under his breath to the other two.
“Should we sell the company?” Namjoon breaks the silence in the office with words so off-kilter that Jimin falls out of his chair. The lead CEO is practically bouncing in his seat, wanting the day to finish so he could go home and see you, maybe convince you to break some more rules.
“Who are you?” Jin asks, watching the CEO with distrust. 
Kim Namjoon, selling the company he got off the ground with his bare hands? Unheard of. Impossible. Pigs would learn to fly first. 
“Hyung!” Jimin whines, picking himself off the floor. “Please, come back to your senses! What’s happened to you?”
The CEO shrugs, looking at his desk as the words leave his mouth.
“I’m happy,” he grins, the others looking at him dumbfounded before they groan.
“You’d sell it and then cry,” Hoseok says, knowing his friend all too well, getting back to the papers on his desk before adding, “Sunshine would kill you.”
“If you sell the company I would never forgive you,” Jin adds. “I’m far too young to retire.”
“Plus you’re only saying this so you can spend more time with Noona right?” Jungkook continues, “but could you ever imagine Bunny giving up work?”
“You’d sit at home bored out of your mind,” Yoongi grumbles, agreeing with the maknae. 
“We could always convince her,” Namjoon suggests, making the others laugh in disbelief. 
“Have you met Kitten?” Yoongi grins, “the word stubborn doesn’t do her justice.”
Yoongi looks up from his desk when there’s no reply, Namjoon staring daggers at his head. Oh shit, well he walked into this one.
“You managed to convince her just fine,” he accused, making all of them groan again.
“Can we not do this again?” Jin sighs, closing his eyes, if he had this conversation again his brain would explode trying to escape it. 
“Please can we let this go,” Jimin almost yells, they all had enough of the silly war Namjoon was trying to begin with Yoongi. “Jealousy is an ugly trait you know.”
“Who’s jealous?” Namjoon contests, not sounding believable at all. “It’s about principle.”
“And the principle is Angel and Hyung did nothing wrong,” Jimin uncharacteristically sticks up for Yoongi, even the usual stoic CEO was shocked. “We were all dating at the time, they were both well within their rights, even if it was at work.”
Namjoon looks away dejected, knowing Jimin was right but wanting to hold on to the petty anger. 
“I mean why Yoongi hyung is an acceptable question to ask, but Angel doesn’t have the best taste in men does she?” Jimin smirks, teasing him.
“She’s dating you as well, Park Jimin,” Yoongi scoffs in reply, but the feeling of gratitude towards the younger one doesn't dampen. 
“It’s inappropriate at the workplace,” Namjoon finally  mumbles in response, making Jin roll his eyes. “What if they got caught?”
“You’re the head of the company and you didn’t catch them in the act,” Hoseok mocks with a smirk, an eye brow rising. “And you were in the room with them.”
A knock on the door interrupts their conversation, Jackson looking unusually cautious as he enters. He greets them all with a bow, approaching Namjoon’s desk.
“Depyunim…” he hesitates, putting the envelope in front of him. “There’s another one.”
Namjoon’s carefree disposition disappears, instead Jackson sees a bull about to charge, the fear instilled in him so sudden it takes effort not to move out of his line of sight. 
“How many is that now?” Jin asks quietly, the atmosphere in the office now dead. The youngest three looking at their hyung’s in question.  
“It doesn’t matter,” Namjoon seethes before commanding Jackson to burn it like every time before. The secretary never did, instead he always put it in the shredder and disposed of it in the confidential waste bins.  
He nods, leaving with the envelope and whatever contents it held that shook the four oldest CEOs. As curious as Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung were, there was something about the murderous intent on their leader's face that stopped them from asking what was going on.
“How much longer are we going to hide this,” Yoongi says, knowing how much you hated secrets.
“We don’t need to worry her,” Namjoon dismisses the idea. He was content with pretending the problem didn’t exist, they all were. But how much longer could they ignore a mountain and pretend it was a molehill. 
“Maybe we should air on the side of caution and read what he’s said at least,” Hobi suggests.
“We don’t give criminals the time of day Hoseok,” Namjoon replies. “Nothing he has to say is worth our time, or Y/n’s.”
“But he’s incessant,” Jin states. “We thought he’d give up but it's been weeks Namjoon.”
The maknaes all watch the back and forth quietly, trying to decipher what the hell was going on.
“I don’t want to read his threats or blackmail, he has no power where he is.”
“Where we put him,” Yoongi scoffs, “he’s lost everything, which means we shouldn’t underestimate him, there’s nothing he won’t do.”
“What can he do?” Namjoon yells back exasperated. They were pretending for so long he almost forgot about the whole issue. 
“Well we won’t know unless we read the letters,” Yoongi responds calmly, knowing Namjoon’s emotions were all over the place. The anger was forefront, their leader usually was able to keep his cool in all aspects of his life, or at least use his emotions productively, but this was different. This made his level-headed nature dissipate, until all that was left was a man desperate to hold onto what he had, regardless of the consequences. 
“You wanted to see me sir,” you say as you enter the office. Kyungsoo was a good boss, he was a bit scary and blunt at times but always fair. The blank expression he usually wore gave nothing away, which is why everyone who ever interacted with him was always on edge. 
“Y/n take a seat,” he says, gesturing to the chair in front of him. The other CEOs were nowhere to be seen. 
“Is everything okay?” you ask, starting to worry since his expression seemed more serious than usual. 
He sighs. That one action has your heart dropping, you fucked up somehow, you must have. What other reason could he have to call you in here?
“I want you to know I usually don’t pay attention to baseless rumours,” he states, looking you dead in the eyes almost apologetically. “However there is one going around about you that has put your colleagues at a bit of unrest.”
Oh fuck, this again? This again because Jongin tried to flirt with you in front of your supervisors? You press your lips closed before you can start filling the silence with explanations, the man hadn’t finished your accusation yet. Innocent until proven innocent, you were guilty of nothing.
“A few of your supervisors have come to us with the senseless belief that you are somehow a spy for bangtan corporations,” he pauses watching for your reaction, other than your eyes widening in shock and your lips parting, he doesn’t see anything damning there. “We had no reason to believe it, except one of the managers claims to have seen you at dinner with your old bosses.”
You can feel yourself start to sweat under his gaze, for all the reasons he is unaware of. You were not a spy, but yes you had a secret, one that could not get out no matter what. 
“Director Do, I assure you, I am not a spy for any company,” you say sincerely, hoping he’ll believe you. “I’m close with my old colleagues and bosses after working with them for so long, but I can promise you I never talk about work.”
He takes in your explanation with silent eyes, you couldn’t read them and you hated it. When it was one of your seven boyfriends you could always read their moods and you missed that, you didn’t realise how much comfort it brought you until now. Even Yoongi, who was dubbed a stone by your old colleagues, you could always grasp his emotional state, this was foreign to you and as a proud teacher's pet it was making you anxious. 
“Okay,” he nods, seemingly accepting of your honesty. 
You breathe in relief, albeit mind in overdrive trying to think when this manager could’ve seen you. You all went out for dinner recently after coming back from Italy as a call for peace between the hyungs and maknaes. The so-called peace lasted for about ten seconds before they were arguing again about who was in the right and why actions were justified etc etc. It must have been then, the table was in a private VIP booth but they were loud, the noise levels could’ve caught anyone’s attention. 
You’re dismissed from the office, head hanging to the ground in thought. Do you tell the others? You probably should so you can all collectively be more careful, but at the same time, you didn’t want to worry anyone. 
In the end, you do decide to tell them. Your downcast expression when you got home gave away that something was wrong anyway, you didn’t have much choice after the probing from the maknaes. Yoongi begged you to tell them just to shut Jimin’s whining up. They didn’t like it, in fact they went a little too quiet for your liking, but they all agreed they would have to be more careful on dates out, which led to a compromise you weren’t all too happy about but hey, never look a gift horse in the mouth, whatever the hell that meant.
When you all started dating, Namjoon made a point about renting out whole places so you could all enjoy some privacy away from the public and you had vehemently refused. It was too costly, it wasn’t fair on other people that wanted to also visit the places of your dates, and it just didn’t seem normal. Now though, you had to give in, at least to keep your relationship under wraps. 
“Is it really worrying you?” Jin asked you after you were silent for a while. Both of you were sharing a slice of cake between you on the dining table, you mind preoccupied. 
“Yes,” you say honestly, sighing.
“Oh beautiful girl, I’m sorry,” he replies sincerely, pulling the leg of your chair so you’re closer to him. The action has your heart galloping despite your uneasiness, you’d never told them before but it was your favourite move. In every drama you watched, whenever the male lead did that you would just swoon, and when your boyfriend did it you swooned and died. 
For the first time tonight you smile genuinely, shyly trying to hide your expression as you play around with the cake. Jin can see the change in your demeanour, he wanted you closer to comfort you but he can see it had other affects. He pulls it closer even still, his face a centimetre away from yours so he can feel it burning. 
“Cute,” he comments quietly, but you hear him. Stupid racing heart, pumping blood to your face, why did you always have to heat up like a volcano whenever they did anything? 
He chuckles to himself when you fail to reply, mouth opening as if you were going to but you couldn’t find the words. He kisses your flaming cheek, possibly making them ignite even more going off how your skin almost scorched his lips. 
“Beautiful,” he whispers, “why are you suddenly being shy?”
You shake your head without looking at him, as if to say, ‘no reason’. He laughs at your antics, pleased that he’s managed to distract you from your worries for a little while. When you finally do turn to him, you've scooped up some of the cake on your fork, holding it out to him expectedly. Internally he could combust himself from the action, but he hides it well enough, as long as you don’t look at his ears. He doesn't break eye contact with you as he takes a bite, a little of the frosting still on his lips that catches your attention. You wait patiently for him to swallow before you lick it, turning back to the plate as if nothing had happened, leaving Jin spluttering in shock, his face blushing profusely as he tries to calm down. Oh what a dangerous girl you were. 
“Did you just lock the door?” You laugh incredulously at Hoseok as he climbs into your bed. “You know there’s enough room for more than just us right?”
You’re only teasing but he’s not all that impressed. 
“After all you were the one to say that was the reason I got the biggest bed,” you continue, laughing harder when he pins you with a hard gaze. 
“I’m not sharing you tonight,” he states, pulling you closer under the covers before reaching over to turn off the lamp. “Plus you still owe me after halloween.”
You’re about to answer when you’re interrupted before you can begin, there’s a knock on the door but Hoseok stops you from answering it.
“What part of not sharing didn’t you understand sunshine?” he says seriously.
“Sorry,” you reply sheepishly, making him finally break into a smile. 
There he is, your Sun like boyfriend, you always found it funny that he called you sunshine when he was literally made from it. People gravitated towards Hobi, he was full of character and laughter, you would have to be out of your mind to dislike him. Sure he was a little more… authoritative at work and in bed, but all in all he was one of the nicest people you had ever met, you were lucky to have him to yourself. 
The knocking on the door turned into loud pounding, making his smile falter into a stern expression. Oh you felt sorry for whoever was on the other side if they unleashed Hoseok’s mean commander persona. You remember the days working with him, he accepted nothing less than perfection, it was a trait he carried home, but it did lead to a lot of self induced stress from time to time. 
“Just ignore it,” you whisper, turning his face away from the door to you in the darkness, “they’ll get the message eventually.”
Unfortunately, whoever is on the other side has a death wish, the banging doesn’t stop for a second. You can feel the patience in Hobi wearing thin before he detonates.
“We’re trying to sleep in here!” He yells with a scowl, his head pounding to the same rhythm as the beats on the door. 
For a moment it seems like he’s won, the silence welcomed as he settles back into your embrace, before the sound comes back harder and faster. 
“I’m going to kill them,” he growls, about to get up before you tether yourself to him. 
“Babe, they’ll give up eventually,” you reassure him, pecking his face wherever you could in the darkness, quelling his anger. You couldn’t see the look of love he was giving you, despite the incessant noise and now voices of demand and displeasure (surprisingly Namjoon and Jungkook, you were so sure it was Taehyung and Jimin), both of you lose yourself to soft touches and as the sound settled, you both fell asleep. 
“Namjoon no,” you command like he was a misbehaving dog when he stands at the kitchen doorway staring at you with mischievous eyes. 
He only grins, staring at your accusing finger like it was nothing, no threat behind it at all. You were on your way out, purposefully avoiding him like every morning since his new habit of trying to steal time you didn’t have. You shouldn’t have risked filling up your coffee travel cup, but the drinks at your new company sucked, they only had machines, no cafe no nothing, you were truly spoiled at bangtan. 
Your train of thoughts distracts you from your current predicament until your boyfriend takes a step into the room towards you. Your eyes narrow, his hands behind him playfully, a carefree gait in his movements but his face was nothing less than predatory. 
“I just wanted some coffee,” he shrugs innocently, but you know he’s up to no good. You eye the exit behind him, calculating how to manoeuvre your way out of here when he closes the distance. You try to slip past him but he blocks your movement with his arm clutching the counter behind you. His other hand takes your travel mug from your grasp, taking a sip before wincing at the burn. 
“It’s hot you dumbass,” you try to snatch it back but he only places it out of reach on the counter beside you, before wrapping his arm around your waist. 
“You're hot,” he flirts shamelessly, making your jaw drop and your skin crawl with heat. You were not used to this new carefree attitude they all adopted in disarming you with compliments, your heart couldn’t take it. 
“No,” you draw out the vowel as if explaining something simple to someone stupid, “I’m going to be late, move.”
But he doesn’t, he just grins before stealing the kiss he’s been wanting since he woke up.  
“Joonie,” you whine when your lips part with a smack, the grin he has on his face is devious as it is sexy. He plays with a strand of your hair avoiding that hard stare you had that told him to behave as he cornered you against the kitchen counter. 
“So we’ll be a little late baby girl,” he kisses the corner of your jaw before sucking gently on the skin of your neck. You push him back firmly, face adopting Yoongi’s stoic mask while your heart flutters uncontrollably. 
“One of us owns the company and can afford to turn up late,” you say, voice dripping in sarcasm. 
“The other one had enough charm to win over 7 of her ex bosses and is cute enough to get away with murder,” he contends, the smirk on his face getting wider when you roll your eyes. 
“So you want me to flirt with my new bosses to get myself out of trouble,” you say with a raised brow. 
That wipes the smile off his face, he removed your hand from his chest pushing himself onto you, smothering his face in your neck as you giggle uncontrollably. 
“That wasn’t funny,” he mumbles against your skin. 
“I’m going to be late!” You complain while laughing, you feel him grin against you at the sound.
Immediately you can feel something wrong at work, the atmosphere was off but that was the least of your problems. Your coworkers weren’t being subtle in their whisperings and stares, but they were avoiding you and keeping their distance. Even your supervisors who usually confronted you about anything suddenly looked away when you saw them, muttering something between themselves and leaving before you could question it. 
Your phone buzzes in your hand, why was Namjoon calling you? He knew better while you were at work. You let the call go to voicemail, trying to get your head into work mode but everyone’s attitude around you was making you anxious, your skin felt like a thousand millipedes were crawling all over it, or under it, your heart switching to fight or flight mode, ready to run. They were looking at you like… you couldn’t explain it, like you had done something awful.
Your phone buzzes again in your hand, this time a message, and when you read it that sinking feeling only gets worse. 
Office romance
Namjoon : Y/n go home ASAP
Your heart was in your throat, you were trying not to hyperventilate. The murmurs around you suddenly get louder as a new figure approaches, splitting the sea of colleagues apart until he finds you.
“Miss L/n, a word please,” Kim Junmyeon had never looked so stone faced, his disposition was usually kind and gentle.
Without a word you follow him, putting your vibrating phone away in your pocket, you couldn’t look at it now. 
As you walk the stares only get more intense, more curious, and you wonder what the hell was going on. Your brain starts going into overdrive, remembering the conversation between you and Kyngsoo merely days ago. Was this about being a spy?
You expect the CEO to take you to his office but he leads you to one of the meeting rooms, the other CEOs sitting solemnly not meeting your gaze. The screen on the 60 inch tv screen used for presentations was on, and paused, on a news channel. 
“Care to explain this Y/n,” Junmyeon says, reaching for the remote and pressing play.
You really wished you listened to Namjoon.
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fos-tis-zois · 1 month
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JJK SMUT - bathroom sneak away with gojo satoru
part 2 to my prev. gojo smau
content: boyfriend!gojo satoru x fem!reader + smut + degradation + pussy eating + fingering + all your fun stuff
work count: 1.4k
an: first ever smut that i’ve written and in process of writing more sooooo, well reblog if you like this one lol it will really help me validate my writing and post more of my stuff. advice and suggestions is welcome. my inbox is open for everything, as well as your kinks which i can make smuts out of 🤤
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You enter the bathroom and face your blue eyed man spreading himself on the bathroom counter. You close the door behind you and lock it, without breaking eye contact with your most enticing boyfriend. You slowly walk towards him, not removing your eyes from him for even a second; you want Gojo Satoru to look at you with all the desire he can have for you before you close the distance. You come stand in front of him sitting on the countertop. He cups his warm hands on your cheeks fleetingly and quickly moves his hands on your waist, gets down and spins you to make you sit on the countertop as he faces you, his height still cowering over you. There is a feral look in his eyes. He smiles at you slightly before closing the distance between your lips and kissing you passionately. There is a possession in his grip on your throat, he is choking you slightly, making you know you’re his, only his. The strongest sorcerer’s most precious possession. 
Your thighs close around his legs instinctively wanting no distance between both of you. He keeps one hand on your neck while the other roams around your body and rests on your lower back, pulling you closer to him. Your hands snake around his neck, your fingers deep inside his silky white hair. His tongue lightly licks your bottom lip and you open your mouth to let your tongues mingle in a deep hot mess inside your mouth. Gojo was basically eating your face at this point. You lightly tug at his hair so he can let you have a breath. He doesn’t stop but instead moves to your neck, biting and licking like an animal. You try to stop him, “satoru, we have to go back to an event, don’t give me a hickey here.” He stops and pierces his gaze at you again. He squeezes your cheeks firmly between his thumb and fingers and pulls your face right in front of him, “i do what i want to do to my princess here, you get that?” You nod yes in agreement. “Use your pretty mouth to speak”, he barks. “yes, toru…”, you breathe out, your lips all puckered up. He starts kissing you again as he pulls your dress’ neckline down hastily and grabs your tits in his hands. He cups one of them and strokes your nipple between his thumb. “mmm-ghhh”, you whimper. He puts his lips on your other nipple twirling it between his tongue. You run your fingers through his hair as the pleasure is running through your spine. You feel yourself getting wet and close your thighs even more, tightening it against gojo. He gets the hint and takes his forefinger and fleetingly touches your clit, lifting the skirt of your dress. You hiss, wanting more. “Getting greedy, are we?”, teases Satoru. He then placed his mouth at the clit and started playing with it using his tongue as he thrust his long fingers deep in your pussy, curving it slightly at the top so he hits your spot. “toru!”, you yell out. He brings his face to yours and looks into your eyes with anger and says “the next time you make any sound i will stop this right then and there, you do want to cum, don't you?”, he warns. You want to protest but you also don’t want him to stop the way he is slurping your pussy, so you keep quiet. His thrusts became deeper and faster and you had to keep your hands behind on the countertop to maintain your balance as you bite down on your bottom lip so you don’t make a sound. 
He pulled his fingers out suddenly and slammed his tongue inside your cunny. “aah-” you make a soft moan as your legs close around gojo’s neck and you pull his mouth inside even more, as if all of his tongue was also not enough compared to your burning craving for him at the moment.  As you are close to climax, he brings his face back to yours and kisses you deeply. “Such an obedient little slut for me, aren’t you babygirl?” You melted at his mix of compliments and degradation. “I want more”, you whispered. Gojo chuckled, “what was that doll?” “satoru,” you purred, looking up at him full of lust in your eyes, “i want you in me.” The second you said that his belts were undone and his pants and briefs were off and slid down to the floor. He took his dick in one hand and stroked it a couple times as he took your boobs in his mouth again, biting and sucking like he was adamant on marking you his. He pushed his tip at your opening a couple times, not taking it fully in, still keeping you on your toes. “satoru, why do you like torturing me-“ your complaint wasn’t even over before gojo thrust his cock in your wet dripping cunt. You were just about to moan loudly but he kept his other hand on your mouth so you can't scream. He keeps thrusting you over and over and you can’t help but just there getting fucked, with your tongue hanging out of mouth and eyes rolled back. “You’re such a sexy little slut for me”, gojo said as he placed deep kisses on your neck. “toru please go faster”, you pleaded with your doe eyes looking up at him. “What’s the magic word, darling?”Gojo teased. You smiled, puffed out your chest at him a little more before looking in his eyes and saying seductively, “daddy pleaseee…fuck me faster.” That was enough for gojo to grab your ass with both his hands and pull you even deeper on his cock. You hung on to him for dear life as he pounded you, in and out, repeatedly. You take your lips close to his ears to not be loud, and purr “daddy you’re ssooo good to me” and licked his lobe. It’s as if gojo becomes deranged hearing you and starts thrusting so hard and rubbing circles on your clit that you can’t help but bite down his shoulders to stop yourself from screaming. He suddenly took almost his whole dick out and just kept the tip in. Confused, you asked “did you finis-” as you said that he rammed his dick back in you hard, and you both came simultaneously. You both just stayed like that for a while, your head hanging low on his shoulders, both of you panting after having fucked like pent up bunnies. He kissed down your shoulders and said, “you’re really perfect, love.” You moaned satisfied at the compliment as you kissed him one last time lightly before getting off the counter and fixing yourself.
“It’s a pity we have to go back to the party, no?” you asked gojo. “we can go anywhere we want darling, nothing is impossible for me” the sorcerer replied cockily. You laughed and said, “then let’s fucking leave. let’s go to our home where we can fuck each other over and over because i just can’t have enough of you.” Gojo laughed and kissed you as he squeezed your ass, “whatever my doll wants, she gets.”
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© fos-tis-zoos, 2024; picture from pinterest @/its_maya4; banner from @/cafekitsune
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fayes-fics · 3 months
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When The World Is Free: Chapter 12 - Je T'ai Dans La Peau
MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.
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Warnings: Teen-rated... non-graphic references to sex/sexual situations.
Word Count: 2.7k
Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl. Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. Our couple are sneaking around Aubrey Hall, trying to get time alone together, but it was always going to be noticed by a certain eagle-eyed mama. Sorry this has taken a while, life got very busy. Thanks as always to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!
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Aubrey Hall, UK, September/October 1939
It's the early hours when you finally get a moment alone with Benedict.
Throughout the evening, including a raucous but entertaining family dinner, your attempts are stymied at every turn. At the end of the evening, Eloise shows you to your guest room and lingers long after you have gotten ready for bed, waxing lyrical about Phillip, her plans to get a place in London (“Come with me!”) and her ambitions to get a job at the British Library. 
You listen as intently as you can, but your eyes droop as you climb under the covers, the bed so plush, promising her you are still listening even when you settle into the pillows. At some point, you drift off, maybe her as well, but when you awaken, your wristwatch says it is after midnight, and she is gone from your room.
Just as you are drifting again, there is a soft knock at your door. You wonder if you heard correctly at first, but when it happens again, you sleepily alight from your bed. Upon opening, the sight before you has you wide awake - Benedict, looking cosy but dashing in navy blue silk pyjamas. After a quick check that the corridor is clear, you grab his arm and haul him into your room, closing and locking the door behind you.
You look at each other, breathing heavily for a beat, then crash into each other, him grabbing you and hauling you off the ground into his arm, your legs winding instantly around his hips as you kiss greedily, hungrily. He groans, cupping your jaw and kissing you more, always kissing, until you are breathless for air. Your need for him is like an eternal flame, burning slowly all the time, but the second he touches you, it roars, awakening something primal, a physical need that burns your lungs and aches deep inside.
“Can we?” 
“Can we what…?” He replies, lips sliding to your neck.
“Have sex?” 
“Oh god…I didn't bring protection,” Benedict rues, sinking his forehead onto your shoulder.
“Benedict!” you whine, a touch petulant.
“I’m sorry… I will go get it…” he offers apologetically.
“Don't you dare leave me again so soon,” you growl, winding yourself tighter around him.
He chuckles. “Then perhaps maybe we can just find pleasure in other ways…” his promise dusky as he lowers you onto the bed.
Half an hour later, you are staring at the ceiling, panting, utterly sated as he once again used his mouth to bring you to a shaking pinnacle, your cries muffled into a pillow.
“We must find somewhere private,” he sighs, his face resting on your belly as you card your fingers through his thick hair. “I like to hear you scream…” his wistful, cheeky addition makes you gasp and swat him gently on the shoulder. He laughs heartily and crawls up over you on all fours. “We can steal away somewhere on the grounds where no one would find us,” he assures, eyes shining in the low lamplight.
“I shall keep you to that promise, Mr Bridgerton,” you threaten softly, pushing his shoulders until he lies on his back, you hovering over him now. “Do you think you are capable of being as quiet as I was?”
“Why do you ask?” a flicker of confusion over his face, until your hand slides down his flat stomach and lands upon the warm bulge in his pyjamas.
“I would like to return the favour…” you offer, as his breath hitches beautifully. “I have never used my mouth as such, but you will teach me, won't you? Tell me what you like?”
His groan is like music as you shuffle lower, looking up at him with fluttering eyelashes as he stares down at you with utter devotion.
Bright sunlight slices through a gap in the heavy velvet curtains when you stir, sad to be alone. Benedict said he would leave at some point in the night but insisted you fall asleep in his arms. 
As you descend the main staircase, Eloise catches up to you, looping your arm in hers and dragging you to breakfast. It's a far cry from your trips to the boulangerie together for croissants. It is a full buffet with gleaming silver chafing dishes lined up on a sideboard.
“Is your life here always like this?” your mind boggles as you help yourself to scrambled eggs and some bacon.
“Yeah, pretty much. Boring, right?” She pulls a face.
“Your idea of boring is so very different to mine…” you respond drolly, pouring a cup of coffee and taking a seat at the ornate, long dining table.
No one else appears to be taking breakfast now, but as Eloise natters away, you always have one eye on the doorway, hopeful Benedict will come in. But he doesn't, so you agree to a post-breakfast walk around the estate with her to enjoy the unseasonably warm, early autumn day. 
However, as you head to the door, Violet appears as if from nowhere.
“Eloise dearest, I hope you did not forget our plans today…?”
You watch Eloise turn around in slow motion, a pained expression on her face. “Surely that can wait?” she appeals before tilting her head back towards you. “Mother is under the impression that now I am back home, I wish to join the Woman’s Institute,” 
“We only meet once a month, and today is that day,” Violet attests, looking at her expectantly. “You have been abroad for the best part of a year, my dear; I would appreciate this quality time with you.”
It's the most loving, motherly manipulation, and you can tell by the way Eloises’s shoulders slump that she cannot argue that point.
“Come with me?” she appeals brightly, tugging your arm.
“Only members are allowed, my dear.” Violet cuts in calmly. “Next month, I can petition for y/n here to join, but she would have to wait until then.”
As you observe their back-and-forth, Benedict appears, wandering down the main staircase, dressed casually in a collarless shirt and brown trousers. He looks so good that you are tongue-tied, wanting to run to him and jump into his arms. You realise you are staring and have to tear your eyes away quickly, but it's too late. You can feel Violet’s watchful eye, made worse by knowing you have a darkening blush over your cheeks.
“Good morning, ladies,” he breezes, doffing an imaginary cap that makes his wedding ring catch the sunlight.
“Benedict dear, Eloise and I are off to Canterbury today. But perhaps you could show y/n around the estate grounds while we are out?” Violet breezes, fixing her son with a winning smile.
His eyes shoot to you and yours to his, a warm flicker behind your ribs at the thought you get a few hours alone together.
“Yes, no problem,” he smiles, attempting nonchalance.
“Don't do anything I wouldn't do…” is her parting shot as she gently drags Eloise towards the car outside.
“That covers a lot of ground; she's surprisingly daring,” Benedict states drolly as you watch them pile into the vehicle.
“Do you think she suspects something?” you ask faintly as you both stand in the doorway waving.
“Perhaps…” he concedes, not looking at you. “I suspect this was at least partially engineered. Not that I am complaining,” he adds hurriedly as the car pulls away.
“Same…” you offer quietly, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.
You are staring at the wispy clouds puffing gently over the sky, the long grass lush under your back, the midday early autumnal sun warm on your skin as you lay naked, entwined together in post-coital bliss on a remote hillside of the estate.
“You kept your promise, Mr Bridgerton, to find us a secluded spot together.” 
His crooked smile is boyish, and his eyes dance in the sunlight. “Indeed, I did. And I greatly enjoyed your screams,” he teases with a wink.
“Stop it,” you demure, burying your face into his armpit, enjoying the scent of his skin there.
“Don't be bashful now,” he chuckles, rearranging your bodies so you are under him, his head resting upon your chest. “I would keep any promise I made to you,” he continues after a pause. His tone sincere, his breath dusting warm over your nipple, and his ear pressed to the skin on your sternum as if listening to your heartbeat.
“And I to you,” you confess, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers mapping a constellation of freckles near his shoulder blade.
“Will you be wanting a divorce?” his question is almost hesitant—like he is torn between wanting to know and not know all at once.
“Would you want one?” you volley back, knowing it’s cowardly to answer his question with another.
“I see no reason to,” his words are quiet as he tilts his chin to look at you. “I do not plan to marry another,” he adds pointedly.
“Me neither…” you answer, meeting his gaze imploringly, wanting him to believe it. The last thing you want to do is go back to America now. You want to stay here with him—for as long as he will permit.
“You will stay here?” There is a hopeful lilt in his voice, his left hand lacing with yours, wedding rings pressed together.
“I have my freedom to remain in this country. I wish to be nowhere else but here…” Your answer is so dangerously close to a confession of what you genuinely feel, but you hold back, even as you know your heart is now thudding hard under his ear.
“Here with me?” he flips up onto all fours and climbs over you, that beguiling smile seeming to capture his whole face.
“Yes, with you, if you’ll have me…” you smile back at him as he looms above, his face in shadow, his hair a riotous halo around his head, backlit by the sun.
“Oh, I will have you plenty of times…” his promise dusky as his lips land on yours.
“That sounds like a promise, Mr Bridgerton…” you join in the banter between kisses.
“And you know I keep my promises,” he smirks before grasping both of your hands in his and stretching them into the tangle of wildflowers above your heads as you get lost in each other's bodies again.
And so it continues, night after night, days becoming weeks. Stealing away precious moments together whenever possible, knowing the risk you are running but unable to resist any opportunity, physical longing takes over, falling into each other, desperate and yearning. As if a part of you lives under each other's skin. Every night, he comes to your room long after the house is asleep, and every night, you fracture around him, your ecstatic cries muffled into his dewy skin.
The clandestine nature is partly not wanting to confess to Eloise but also to keep it a secret from the world—a precious, rare thing, just a fledgling you want to shelter. Give it time to breathe and grow. Although, on some level, you know that Violet knows. Her glances at you both, when you are in the same room, feigning nothing untoward, are too pointed. Yet she says nothing outright. 
It's two weeks since you settled into Aubrey Hall when Eloise is in a sour mood one morning. She had just received a phone call from Phillip, and you suspect their London rendezvous has been delayed again.
“Why the hell are you still wearing that?” she grouses uncharitably, pointing at your wedding ring.
“It means a lot to me; it’s a symbol of our escape,” your answer is a partial truth.
Eloise can’t seem to find fault with that, so swings her attention elsewhere. “So what's your excuse?” she gruffs to Benedict, who is reading the paper on the opposite sofa.
Across the room, you sense Violet's pause in her jigsaw puzzle.
“Why does the jewellery I wear bother you so much, sister?” he evades, crumpling down his newspaper to shoot her a withering glance. “I’ve never heard you comment upon my signet ring.”
“That's completely different, and you know it,” Eloise decries. “That's a ring you inherited from Dad. Also, where were you last night?” She abruptly changes the subject.
“What do you mean?” he bristles slightly.
“I went to your room late to borrow the Agatha Christie book you stole,” she pauses to pull a pointed face. “And you weren't there. Your bed didn't even look like it had been slept in.”
“Are you my mother now?” he rebuffs airily. “If you must know, I couldn't sleep either; I was out.”
“Your car was here…”
“Out as in outside,” he shoots back, “walking the grounds by moonlight.”
He's not lying. He is, however, omitting the fact that you were with him. The summer house by the lake has become your new clandestine spot, fashioning a comfortable bed of towels and pool lounger cushions. You can make love passionately in secret without fear of interruption or being overheard, falling asleep wrapped in each other as you stare out of the French doors at the blanket of stars reflecting on the still water.
Eloise gives him a lingering side-eye but returns to the book—Agatha Christie’s Death on the Nile. Once she is distracted, your eyes dart to Benedict, and he gives you a reassuring smile that you can't help but mirror, even as Violet peers at you mutely once again.
Later that day, you are perusing books in Anthony’s office when a painting of a man who looks remarkably like Benedict makes you stop short. Violet seems to materialise beside you.
“My husband, Edmund,” she explains, her voice wistful and evocative of the ache of lost love, undulled by the passage of time. “True love is a wondrous thing; never let it slip through your fingers, and treasure every moment,” she counsels, twisting to look at your face.
“I would never,” you answer quietly, even as you steadfastly refuse to do the same, staring at the painting, heart speeding up.
“That's a good thing, my dear, and don’t worry about the judgement of others, especially those who are spirited and headstrong.” She can only be referring to Eloise: “They all come around eventually, believe me.”
At that, you have to look at her askance, unable to hide the nerves on your face. “You know?” unable to resist any longer.
“I know my children better than they know themselves,” she responds lightly, “and I certainly know when they are hiding something,” she adds softly, saying but not saying so much.
It feels like a weight is lifted from your heart, the undeniable urge to confess to someone - unable to do so to your usual companion.
“I have no idea how to tell Eloise,” you rush out. “This was never my plan, not what I intended to happen,” you clarify. “Benedict sacrificed his future to give me my freedom.”
“You sacrificed yours too…” she gently interrupts.
“But I never wanted mine,” you admit, your eyes drifting back up to the handsome man in the painting as if admitting it to Benedict’s dad as much as his mum at your side. “At least, not once I met your son…. I thought I knew what I wanted in life. But I was a fool. And now… I….” you trail off, unable to finish.
“You love him, don't you?” It's a delicate, comforting inflexion.
“I can barely believe it myself; it's been such a short period of time. But yes…” you admit sotto voce, hanging your head as a tear wells in the corner of your eye.
“As I said, I know my children better than they know themselves,” she repeats, wrapping an arm around your back, “and I know when one of them is hopelessly in love.”
Your head jerks up in surprise, and you finally look into her kindly gaze, your heart a kaleidoscope.
“Yes, my dear. It may take him a while to say it,” she qualifies, “but it's no less true.”
That tear escapes your eye as she pulls you into a motherly hug. Already knowing this will be a secret you keep between you, for now at least.
“Welcome to the family, y/n.”
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mewhenimanangel · 11 months
Text
everywhere ʚɞ miles morales x reader
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pairing: 42!miles morales x reader
synopsis: you were a wreck. it’s your mom’s one year anniversary since she passed. miles helps you feel better
wc: 3.0k
warnings!: swearing, death, death jokes, violence, kissing, n word used
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you begrudgingly pulled your blanket off you and went to the bathroom to brush your teeth. you were fighting so hard to not crawl back in your bed and sob into your pillow. it was the anniversary of your mom's death and all you wanted to do was cry.
you got in your uniform and put sunscreen and lotion on your face, not bothering to do anything else. you grabbed your bag and your phone and went out your door. your dad was standing there making coffee when he turned around to walk over to you and embrace you in a hug. "good morning baby" he pulled you back to see your quivering lip.
"i know, i miss her too. say what how about i make her special pasta that she always made. or at least attempt to." he joked. "yeah sure whatever" you fanned your tears and went out the door. safiya was standing outside your building waiting to walk with you. "hey bebe how you doing?" she rubbed your back. " i'm fine" you faked a smile. she knew you were lying but she didn't say anything and you two just walked to school.
your classes went by quickly, probably because you spent 90% of them staring out the window. currently you were in physics class doing the exact same thing, it's been a month since your schedule switched and you and miles grew a little closer, as close as he'd let you. you'd exchanged numbers and followed each other on social media. and he would join you and safiya on the walk home, silently walking at your side while you chat with your best friend.
miles looked through the side of his eye and noticed you hadn't even picked up your pencil since class started and were just staring into space, dejected expression on your face. he nudged your shoulder and whispered "what's up with you today, chiquita?"
"mm? oh, nothing." you mumbled looking back down on your desk. "you ain't even write your name, ms bennett's gonna get on your ass" he snickered. you just snorted a bit before going back to stare out the window. it was a rainy day out, how ironic.
he could tell something was off with you so he decided to help you out. "here, i'm done" he moved his paper to your desk. "just copy it" he told you.
you smiled at him before writing down everything he had on his paper, on yours. "you look different today" referring to your bare face "in a good way" he added when he saw your eyebrows furrow. "um thanks" you finished your paper just in time for the bell to ring.
you were in the bathroom washing your hands when the melanie came in. "oh..hi y/n, we miss you in math" she said with a condescending smile on her face. you rolled your eyes and dried your hands before getting ready to leave. "oh by the way since your fine daddy's single, do you think you could give him my number." you face twisted in disgust and you turned around and shoved her up against the wall. "fucking say shit bout my parents again and i'll fucking kill you." you snapped, pushing her head back against the wall.
"bitch is that a fucking threat?!" she pushed you off her. "yes bitch! i'll fucking gut-" "girls, where are we supposed to be??" a hall monitor interrupted coming into the bathroom. you grumbled an insult before pushing pass her and heading to the roof.
miles looked over from his conversation and saw you storming off from the bathroom, melanie following shorty after with the monitor trailing behind her. "yo i'll see you later aight" he dapped his friend up and followed behind you.
his eyebrows furrowed when he saw you sneak through the rooftop door. he followed through the door and snuck up the stairs. he saw you hunched over on the ground and he could hear your sniffles from here. he didn't mean to slam the door but he did and it startled you. you darted your head over your shoulders, quickly wiping your tears when you saw him. "what are you doing here?" you put your head back on your knees. "saw you when you stormed outta the bathroom, you looked upset. then i saw you come up here and i wanted to make sure you ain't kill yourself" he joked, making you giggle.
"why you up here anyway? and why you crying?" he asked, sitting down next to you. "i told mr brown i'd water the garden." your voice was breaking. "doesn't explain why you're crying ma" he looked at you. you didn't say anything for a moment, taking a deep breath before you opened your mouth. "today was the day my mom died, like a year ago today" you told explained. "i promised myself i wasn't gonna cry today but that fucking cunt melanie loves to piss me off"
"that why you said you fought her?" he asked. "mhm" you mumbled. "well she's a fucking bitch. don't take that shit from her." he told you, you nodding your head. "but...i get it. my dad's dead and when he died, niggas thought something was funny? so that's why i had beat lincoln's ass" he said. "god the people here suck so bad. m'sorry about your dad." you told him. "it's aight, i'm sorry about your mom" you smiled and nodded your head, holding back the tears that dared to slip down your face. "it's alright to cry ma. don't hold back i'm not gonna judge you"
you blinked and your tears came flowing down your face, you leaned your head on his shoulder and he didn't move it he just let you cry. "i just wanna go see her grave, but it's all the way in westchester" you wiped your tears. he stayed silent for a moment "then let's go see it. i have my license and i know where my dad's old car is" he told you, rising to his feet. "what? we can't do that. we have school and you can't just take your dad's car." you rose to yours too.
"what, is he gonna stop me?" he said making you giggle. "that's crazy. you don't have to do this really it's fine" "it's alright, if it'll make you feel better i don't mind. come on let's go through the door in the green hallway" he said going through the roof door, you following behind. you opened your phone to tell safiya you were skipping with miles.
'miles is taking me to my mom's grave??😭
we're ditching come with us' you sent the text.
'girl WHAT 💀' she sent.
'that emoji feels familiar 🤔' you sent back.
'stop. anyways i cant come, bout to start a test. just be safe baby. i love you' she sent back.
miles scoped out the hallway making sure no teachers or monitors were around. he pushed through the door and you two made a break for it down the street. "wait, i wanna get something" you pointed to the grocery store down the street.
you both went in and you picked up a bouquet of pink roses, her favorite flowers, from the front. you went to another aisle and picked up a pack of ferrero rocher chocolates "these were her favorite. one time my dad stood her up with work on valentine's day so she and i watched her favorite movie and ate a whole big pack of these. we were so sick afterwards. after i threw up she gave me medicine and sang me to sleep" you lightly laughed, biting your lips to hold back your tears. "she sounds great" he said giving you a comforting smile. "she really was"
you checked out and miles took you to an old garage, tugging open the door, a black buick sat on the other side. "does this even still work?" you asked opening the door. "should. if not i'll just make it" he turned the key in the ignition, engine sputtering in response. he groaned, opening the electrical system. he pulled out two wires, hitting them together until a spark emerged and the engine started. he looked at you with a cocky smile "there, all we need is some gas" "how do you know how to do that?" you asked putting on your seatbelt. "don't worry bout it" he drove off.
after stopping at a gas station and filling up the tank, you two drove the hour and a half drive to westchester graveyard. he let you control the music and would occasionally glance over at you while you just stared out the window. he watched you put your legs up in criss cross apple sauce and doze off, smiling at the way your mouth fell open and he could hear your soft snoring.
he pulled into a nearby parking lot and tapped your thigh "we're here" he told you. you stretched and rubbed your eyes, looking around to make sure it was the right place. "you were snoring mad hard" he teased you. "i was not!" you gasped. "yes you were" "nuh uh, i do not snore" you retorted. "yes you do, could barely hear the music" he lied. you rolled your eyes fondly and opened the car door, grabbing the chocolates and the flowers.
he followed your lead to her headstone and you let yourself plop down next to it, resting the flowers down gently. "hey mom" you leaned your head back. "miss you, god even after a year it still doesn't feel real" your voice was breaking and miles figured he'd back off a little, sitting back on a bench nearby.
"i'm a junior now, me and safiya are still as close as ever but i've been making new friends. dad and i have been weird but if feels like it's getting back to normal now?? his cooking still sucks ass tho" you giggled "oh i got a job now, i'm a barista at mel's. i've been letting my hair grow longer and i redecorated my room. i started reading those poetry books that you had always wanted me to and brandy's been in my playlists on repeat, maybe it's silly to do this because i like to think that you know all this already cause you're watching over me."
"i miss you so much mommy. god i wish you would just come back, how is this not some stupid joke" you wiped your tears, but they wouldn't stop streaming down your face. you turned around and kneeled, knees sinking into the soil beneath you, hands resting on top. you couldn't control it anymore you let out a broken cry and shoved your face in your hands.
you felt miles tap your shoulder and pulled you to your feet. you looked at him, face scrunched up with bloodshot teary eyes. he moved a hand up to your cheek wiping away the tears that rolled down your face. "ugh this is embarrassing" you grumbled, shoving your face in his chest, and he put his arms around your shoulders. "it really isn't. i get it y/n, trust me it'll be okay. i'm not saying it's gon stop hurting but it'll hurt a little less with time." he told you.
he reached in his book bag and took out a small pack of tissues. he handed them to you so you could wipe your tears off. "put your leg up" he told you putting his hand on the underneath of your knee. you put your hands on his shoulders to support yourself and he used the tissues to clean your knees. you let out a small laugh "thanks. really thank you so much for this, you genuinely did not have to do this at all." "it's alright ma"
you checked your phone seeing a missed call and  texts rom your dad. 'where you at? school call me tell me you not there??' 'answer me before i call the police' they read. you giggled a little before telling him you were in westchester, which he did not take lightly and told you you were in trouble but right now you didn't care.
you went to the bench miles was sitting on and grabbed the chocolates. "you wanna eat some with me?" you asked him, holding out one to his hand. "you not gonna eat till you throw up right. i don't fuck with vomit." he put out his hand. "no!" you laughed which made him smile.
the two of you sat there on the bench for about another half an hour talking about whatever. your parents, your lives outside of school and knowing each other, etc. while eating the chocolates. you stopped yourself before you got too into them. "ah we should probably start driving back" you told him. "you sure?" he looked at you. "yeah, dad said i'm in trouble when i get home anyways" you got up and closed the container.
"well. since you're already out can i take you somewhere?" he asked. you twisted your mouth in thought "but my dad-" "well if you're already in trouble when you get back why not stay out a little longer" you let him convince you and got in the car for the drive back to brooklyn.
when you got to brooklyn he drove straight past your buildings and to a nearby unused subway station. you went down and he walked you all the way to the end of the platform going onto the side of the tracks. "alright are you trying to fucking kill me" you hesitated in following him. he chuckled "relax ma, no trains run here anymore it's an old track" he put his hand out to you and you took it and you both walked down the tracks. "alright we gotta hop the fence" he told you.
"are you crazy" you furrowed your eyebrows at him. "it's not even that high up, i'll go first" he climbed the fence and jumped down, swiftly landing on his feet. you followed behind and lost your balance when you were on top causing you to fall over but not before he caught you and put you down. "will you chill out" he laughed at your annoyed expression.
you kept walking for about a minute until you saw a wall full of graffiti. "my uncle takes me down here sometimes and we just paint" he told you, tossing a can at you. "you wanna do a mural for her?" he asked you. you smiled and nod your head "what does she look like?" he asked you. you pulled out your phone and opened the photo album you had dedicated to her, picked a photo and gave him the phone.
"wow she's beautiful. you guys look like twins" he said holding up the phone to a blank part of the wall. "she should fit right in there." "you think i know how to spray paint?" you said shaking the can. "i can help you."
and so he did, he found a color to match her skin tone and her facial features. he did most of the artwork, putting you on his shoulders to do the hair and the top of the rose. you stepped back and admired the finished product. it was your mom with a big smile on her face with her signature red lip, you added details such as your matching necklace, the beauty mark on her cheek, her smile lines and a hand that held a single pink rose.
you smiled and tears stung your eyes, mix of happy and sad but mostly happy. you looked at the time and saw it was almost 9 o'clock. "ohh my dad is gonna kill me" you groaned. "do you think you could take me home now?" you asked him. "yeah it's mad late" he picked up his bookbag and you guys walked back out of the track.
he drove the car back to the garage and you grabbed your book bag before you guys  got out, walking to your block getting to the front of your building. "thank you for today, like seriously. i don't know anybody who would've drove me out for two hours just to sit at a grave." you giggled. "you were sad and i didn't like that, wanted to make you feel better." he nudged your shoulder. "you did make me feel better, thank you" you threw your arm around him, pulling him into a tight hug wrapping around his waist.
you threw your arms up to his face, pinching his cheeks "who knew you were such a big softy morales" you said in a playful baby voice. he rolled his eyes before looking into yours, face softening. your hands were still on his face and his were still around your torso.
your eyes flickered down to his lips before going back to his eyes, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. you quickly pulled back "oh sorry! don't know what came over me" you frantically apologized. "don't apologize" he whispered before pulling you back in. you threw your arms around his neck, hand rubbing against his fade. his hands were on your waist pulling you closer to him.
you were interrupted by your dad poking through the window five stories up. "y/n! you had me going crazy wondering what the hell you were doing and you out here kissing boys?!" he shouted, baffled expression on his face. "girl get inside" he told you through gritted teeth. "goodnight miles" you giggled pulling away from him. "g'night" he said back to you. "and boy who your parents is? cause i will be giving them a call! got my damn daughter out at night kissing all up on her" he pointed at miles, grumbling the last part. "dad relax!" you shouted up at him. "get inside!" "what does it look like i'm doing?!" you shouted back, opening the building door.
taglist ౨ৎ
@prettypink-princesss @itsnotino @r3d0n33 @iluvprowlermiles @jmsanchoo
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dollfaceksj · 10 months
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reminder | jjk (m) pt. 3
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➥ PAIRING: jungkook x fem!reader
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➥ SUMMARY: Whenever he flies back into town, your doorbell is the first he rings. When he has to fly out again, your bed is the last he lies in. However, you’re not stupid. You know your ex-boyfriend, that also happens to be an up-and-coming professional boxer, Jeon Jungkook, doesn’t come to you only. Unfortunately, you have no right to be jealous, not when you’re the one that ended the relationship.
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➥ GENRE: angst ⋆ smut ⋆ bit of fluff ⋆ exes with benefits
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➥ CATEGORY: three-shot
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➥ WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, lots of arguing, angst so much angst, toxicity, strong language, jealous!jk, possessive!jk, reader gets a taste of her own medicine, slightly aggressive jk (not @ reader dw), cockblocker!yoongi, hater!yoongi, mean!yoongi, yoongi just cares about jungkook okay, another bts member cameo and he’s the only normal person in this frfr, a bit of jungkook pov, quick forgiveness bc they love each other so much guys like theyre such losers omg, mentions of.. THE NECKLACE… sorry in advance, oral sex (m. rec), unprotected sex (dont be dumb), rough love making, make-up sex, shirtless ck jk because why not…, kinda subby!jk for a moment… :D, creampie, mentions of edging, mentions of overstimulation, teasing, imo both reader and jk are extremely dumb in this tbh, minors DNI
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➥ WORDCOUNT: 12.5k
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a/n: ah. its the final part. i wanna take the time to thank you guys for loving this three-shot! the love reminder has received really did have me considering making it into a series (i really did) but honestly i think it’s best to keep it a three-shot. HOWEVER: i wanna write a lot of drabbles for it so look out for those!
a/n 2: ignore any mistakes u see or you are cloverphobic. not betaread.
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⋆ TAGLIST ⋆
⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢
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The distant thud of a car door slamming shut makes Jungkook jerk awake in his car. With a hiss, he slurps up the drool that had trickled down his chin from being knocked out and he shoots upright in his seat. He’s jetlagged as hell after flying out from Australia but he still insisted on seeing you first.
Unfortunately, when he knocked at your front door around 12AM, you weren’t home. Being his stubborn self, he decided to wait for your arrival in his car. He dropped Yoongi off at home and returned, parked in front of your door and waited.
But the sound of that car door slamming shut has pulled him out of his slumber. He looks out of the car window on his side, and there you are in the distance, dolled up and searching for your house keys in your clutch as you make your way to the front door.
Wearing a tight dress, hair did exactly the way you know Jungkook likes and from this angle he can’t see your face but without a doubt, he knows you’re absolutely gorgeous.
He takes his phone out of his pocket to check the time and the numbers on his lockscreen – which is a picture of his hand holding yours – tell him it’s 4:08AM. He’d been here for hours but all of it felt like minutes when he finally set his eyes on you again.
Right as he’s about to get out of his car, the figure of another person walks around the car you had just gotten out of. With a squint in his eyes, Jungkook tries to figure out who’s walking up to you right now.
A man, not much older than himself, holds you by your arm as he leads you to your front door. A frown creeps onto his brows when you don’t seem to have a reaction to this man touching you.
Jungkook watches as you keep digging into your purse, seemingly searching for your keys but that doesn’t matter to him anymore.
With a scowl on his pretty face, he silently gets out of his car and sneaks up on the both of you. He makes sure not to make any noise as he stands directly behind the unfamiliar man. Jungkook tilts his head to the side as he says, “She can handle the rest from here.”
He watches with a stern look in his eyes as you and the man slightly jump from the sudden interruption. Your head snaps in his direction and so does the man’s head next to you.
Jungkook can see the horror in your eyes as you come to the realization that it’s none other than Jeon Jungkook standing right next to you.
You’re staring at him like he’s grown a second head, Jungkook’s eyes trail your face and scan your features, committing it all to memory. Pupils dilated, a thin layer of sweat coating your forehead, lips swollen, remnants of lipstick smudged across your chin.
“Who’s this?” the unknown man asks you after the deafening silence that had settled around the three of you, a raise to his eyebrow as he turns his head to look at you.
You quickly compose yourself and clear your throat to speak but before you can answer, Jungkook butts in. “I’m Jungkook,” he says, cockily.
The man slowly nods to Jungkook’s introduction and opens his mouth to respond with his own name as he says, “Hoseok.”
Jungkook nods again after puffing out his chest with an air of arrogance and replying, “Nice to meet you, Hoseok. It’s awfully late, though. You should go home.”
Hoseok turns to look at you with a confused yet concerned look in his eyes, checking with you to see if it’s okay to leave you with this man named Jungkook.
You let a soft sigh push past your lips and give him a nod of reassurance. You place your hand on Hoseok’s bicep to wordlessly tell him it’s okay but he doesn’t look convinced. That’s when you say, “It’s fine, Hobi. Thank you for helping me get home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jungkook’s eye twitches at not only the nickname but at the fact that you’ve seemingly agreed to meet up with this man tomorrow. His gaze drops to your hand on Hoseok’s bicep and he rolls his eyes, fighting the urge to flex his own arms but quickly realizing how stupid he’s being.
Hoseok nods once he sees the sincere look in your eyes and slowly starts walking backwards whilst staring Jungkook down. Jungkook isn’t backing down, though, staring back head-on. Hoseok clicks his tongue and finally spins on his heels, making his way back to his car. He looks back one more time.
Jungkook hasn’t budged from where he was staring Hoseok down and Hoseok glances at you one last time before getting into his car and driving off.
Jungkook glares at the retreating vehicle until it has literally disappeared down the street.
With a frown on his face he turns to you but you avoid his gaze as you turn your keys in the keyhole, unlocking the door to your home. You don’t even hold the door open for Jungkook as you walk in, heels clicking against the tiles as you kick them off and make your way to your living room.
You toss your purse at the couch, watching as it tumbles to the ground with a loud clatter, spilling all its contents but you don’t seem to care as you turn to look at him once he closes the door behind him, in the midst of kicking his own shoes off.
“Why the hell are you here, Jungkook?”
His brows pinch together at your words, the urge to nibble on his bottom lip starting to creep up his spine. “What do you mean, why am I here?”
You stare at him for a moment longer with frustrated eyes and your lips pressed into a thin line, watching his every move but he isn’t budging an inch.
You shake your head as you start walking away from him but he quickly stops you, hand wrapping around your bicep as he tugs you back. “Y/N, speak.”
You glance down at his inked hand wrapped around your bicep and try to wiggle it out of his grasp but he doesn’t let you.
You scoff, “Seriously? I don’t fucking hear from you the entire two months you were in Australia and you have the nerve to come back and act like nothing has happened?”
Record scratch.
Jungkook can hear the cry threatening to spill from your throat and it stings him as bad as when he was punched in the mouth a week ago during a sparring match.
He’s usually gone for a week or two, never longer than that. Not only has he been gone for two months, he didn’t contact you at all while he was away.
He shakes his head, tugging you even closer to him. “You never hear from me when I’m gone, I always come back like nothing has happened! Why are you suddenly acting like it’s a big deal? We’ve been doing this for two years.”
You press your hands into his chest in an attempt to push him off but there’s no real strength behind it. “Because this time, it’s not the same!”
He quickly takes notice to your quickened breathing and the hurt in your eyes but he doesn’t comment on them and decides to stand his ground and defend his actions. “How is it not the same?”
The look of disbelief you give him has his heartbeat stuttering in its rhythm and his throat tightening as it starts drying out.
“Don’t act dumb, Jungkook,” you say, adding more strength behind your push against his chest.
He doesn’t budge nor respond, instead, he continues to stare you down with eyes that flicker with uncertainty and desperation.
You shake your head in disbelief again at his lack of response. “Last time was different. You know it was.”
Again, he has no rebuttal because he knows. He knows it was.
But Jungkook was scared. Terrified, even.
Before he reminds himself of how he’s felt the past two months, he changes the topic. “Who was that?” is all he asks.
Your brows pinch together as your eyes scan his face, dropping to his lips and catching the way he wets them with his tongue, a substitute for chewing on them. “What?” you ask him in confusion.
“Hoseok,” he pauses. “Who is he?” he asks, the face of the unfamiliar man flashing in his mind makes his blood boil all over again, fingers adjusting around your bicep to make sure you don’t slip from his grasp.
You can’t believe he’s deterring the conversation to this, apparent by the raise in your brows and the change in your pitch. “Are you serious?”
“Answer the fucking question, Y/N.” He closes the distance between you two, menacingly towering over you as he stares you down with his onyx eyes.
You huff in frustration and with a shake of your head, you reply, “He’s my friend.”
Jungkook nods to your words in mockery and then reaches up with his other hand, wetting his thumb with his tongue to wipe your chin clean of the makeup. “Friends follow you to your front door at 4AM with the same lipstick on their face that’s smudged across your chin?”
“Oh,” you begin with your eyes narrowed, “don’t you fucking start.” You wiggle your arm out of his grasp and this time he lets you, allowing you to make your way towards your bedroom. His presence is in your wake, following close behind you.
He ignores your words and as soon as the both of you enter your once-shared bedroom, he asks, “Did you fuck him?”
You groan, “No, Jungkook. I didn’t fuck him.” You start taking your jewelry off as you continue, “But friends do share New Year’s kisses.” You fully turn your back to him, tucking away your jewelry in their rightful place. “You didn’t even fucking wish me happy holidays.”
He sighs in exasperation, staring at the ceiling. He knows the fact that it’s New Years is why you’re dolled up, why you’re dressed like this, why you came home this late.
But that doesn’t make him hate it any less.
With a shake of his head, he says, “You know how busy I am, Y/N. There’s nothing more I would’ve wanted than to be here with you, you know that.” His tone has softened and he’s closing the gap between you two but he stops dead in his tracks when your head snaps in his direction.
“I’m not asking you to be here while you can’t. I know you can’t. I’m asking for at least a phone call.” You reach for the zipper on your dress right under your armpit, tugging it down to your hip. “Not even a text, are you fucking kidding me?”
He loudly exhales again, shaking his head as he throws it back and his gaze shifts up to the ceiling, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows down what he really wants to say.
You bitterly chuckle as you eye the short distance between the two of you – he’s standing about two meters away. “Bet you had enough time for other people.”
Your accusating words make his eyebrows twitch and so, his response is immediate. “I didn’t fuck anyone.”
“Aht,” you say as you hold your hand up. “Don’t you fucking bullshit me,” you add, pointing an accusatory finger at him.
He shakes his head in disbelief, face turning to the side as his eyes shift to the wall on his left. He glares at the wall for a while, his hands on his hips and his bottom lip trapped between his teeth.
Then, he says, “Is he the one?”
Jungkook can tell by the way you sigh in exasperation that you’re fighting the urge to start yanking on your own hair.
“The one what?” you groan in annoyance as you start tugging your dress down your body, exposing your body in a matching underwear set and letting the dress pool at your feet before reaching for your bathrobe.
He rubs his face harshly as he adds, “The one you fucked.”
He’s still not looking at you but by your tone and heavened breathing, he knows you probably look like you want to bend over and scream until your vocal chords burst.
“I told you, I didn’t fuck–”
He immediately cuts you off. “I’m not talking about today. I’m talking about what you told me in the shower before I left for Australia,” he says. Then he repeats, “Did you fuck him?”
At that, you go quiet.
He closes his eyes at the silence, jaw clenching as you fidget with the ropes of your bathrobe and his own throat tightens at how you go speechless. You glance up at him with big eyes and a tremble in your chin.
At your lack of response, Jungkook finally looks at you, eyes dropping to your mouth, not missing the quiver in your pretty lips. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
You shrug your shoulders and finally find your voice after what seems like ages. “Does it matter?”
“Yes, it matters.” He stomps the rest of the way over to you, menacingly towering over you. He adds, “I’m not buddy-buddy with the people I fuck.”
You tilt your chin to look up at him, brows knitted together and a scowl forming on your face. “Drop it, Jungkook,” you mumble, tying the bathrobe around your waist.
He closes whatever small distance is still in between you, his body pressed up against your arm before he leans down to directly say the next words into your ear, “Was he good? Did he fuck you good? Did he do the thing you like?”
You move your arm up, pressing your elbow against his chest in an attempt to push him off but he doesn’t budge an inch. “Stop it,” you warn.
He clicks his tongue and kisses his teeth with a loud smack, still not backing away from you. “Not so fun to be on the receiving end of that, is it?”
He’s right. You’ve been pestering him like that for years, always bringing up his sex life with other people to provoke him, to annoy him, out of your own selfishness. Why can’t he return the energy? Put you in that situation? Give you a taste of your own medicine?
You click your tongue in annoyance not only with him but yourself. Teasing him all those times has come back to directly bite you in the ass.
“Shut up, seriously.” You bump your shoulder into his as you make your way to the bathroom but he doesn’t let you get away that easily.
“Were you together? Or was it casual?” He follows close behind you as he continues to pester you.
“Jungkook.”
He doesn’t care about the warning tone in your voice or the scowl on your face. “I just wanna know. I wanna know if he knows I fucked you all those times too.”
You don’t even respond as you start taking your makeup off, ignoring Jungkook’s gaze through the reflection. He’s leaning against the doorframe, cockily staring at you through the mirror and you do your best to ignore him.
When it’s been quiet too long for his liking, he says, “Does he know you’ll always let me do whatever I want to you?” He begins to walk closer, closing the distance between you two until his chest is pressed up against your back and continues to menacingly stare at you through the mirror. “That you’ll never forget about me?”
You slam your makeup wipes down onto the sink with a loud thud, turning to face him. He’s completely pressed up against you at this point, caging you in between the sink and his own body.
You don’t even know what to say because that’s exactly how you’d talk to him ever since the break-up. You tilt your chin to look up at him. “Stop.”
He scoffs as he stares you down with intense eyes. He kisses his teeth with a loud smack and says, “Yeah, not so fun, is it?”
You ignore his provocations like he did yours all those times and move your elbows up to his chest, pushing past him to walk back into your room. Jungkook is aware that you’re constantly creating extra space between the two of you because his proximity will have you bending to his will.
He stays back this time, just quietly watching as you get ready for bed. He can’t ignore the sinking heart in his chest as your bottom lip quivers and your breath has gotten shaky, he can never be mean to you for long and he knows that.
He deeply sighs and shakes his head at his own antics. “Come here,” he mumbles as he makes his way to you.
You don’t respond, you just keep your back turned to him as you prepare your pillows and sheets.
He quietly sighs to himself as he wraps his arms around you from the back, halting you in your movements.
He turns your body to make you face him, his big hands firmly on your hips. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said those things.” He leans into the crook of your neck and nudges your ear with the tip of his nose. “You drive me crazy and it’s making me act a fool.”
Your arms stay limp by your side, your way of telling him you’re still mad at him but you turn your face slightly to give him more access to your neck like you’ll always do.
“I fucking hate how much I love you,” he whispers into the crook of your neck, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbones, fingers digging through the fabric of your bathrobe to grip your hips tightly.
You sigh softly at the sensation of his lips on your skin again, your hands coming up to squeeze his biceps. “You’re an asshole.”
“I know, baby.” His voice is muffled by your neck but you feel the smile on his lips against your skin. “Didn’t like the taste of your own medicine?”
You grunt in response, pinching his biceps which makes him hiss and chuckle before pulling away from your neck to glance down at you.
“Will you let me kiss you?” he asks you, thumbs rubbing circles into your hipbones as his pretty black eyes roam your features.
“No,” you reply, moving your hands up to his chest and rubbing circles through his shirt.
His lips pucker up in a childish pout but he doesn’t push it any further, your proximity is enough for him.
“What’s the magic word?” you say.
His chest puffs as he chuckles, shaking his head. “Will you let me kiss you, please?”
You huff like a little kid that’s just finished throwing a tantrum but you nod your head to his question nonetheless, hands moving up to cup his cheeks.
His face closes in on yours and he presses his lips to your attention-seeking ones. He melts into your kiss, hands traveling up your sides to hold your waist tightly.
It’s been too long since he last saw you, so kissing you feels like a thousand years ago. He makes the most of it as he tightly holds onto your waist as if you don’t have breakable bones, as if you’ll slip through his fingers, as if you’ll disappear into thin air.
He slowly pulls back from your kiss. “I have something to show you,” he says as he reaches for something in his pocket. His phone seems to be in the way so he takes it out of his pocket and hands it to you so you can hold it while he searches for what he so desperately wants to show you.
You glance down at the screen as it automatically lights up and your eyes mindlessly drop down to the 3 hours old notifications.
[1:02AM]
René (AUS)
Are you still at the same hotel? Want me to come over?
[1:04AM]
René (AUS)
Missed call (1)
He watches your face twist into confusion and pain as his own eyes drop to where you’re looking at, the realization dawning on him like he got hit by a fucking train.
Jungkook’s body tenses up under your touch. His other hand drops from your hip and your eyes slowly trail to look up at him.
In a panic, he quickly says, “I swear, it’s not what you think. I swea–”
You don’t let him finish as you slam his phone into his chest and directly stare into his concerned eyes. “Fuck you.”
The way you say it with so much venom in your voice knocks the air directly out of Jungkook’s lungs.
He can hear an imaginary record scratch when you point toward your door and say, “Get out.”
Jungkook is stunned.
You have never made him leave.
You have never told him to just get out.
And for some reason, the ‘get out’ hurts even more than the vicious ‘fuck you’.
“Y/N–”
“Out.”
Jungkook shakes his head, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Don’t make me leave. Please.”
You immediately reply, “I want you to leave. Right now.”
He stares at the wall for a few moments as he gathers his thoughts. You stare at his side profile for a few seconds before you spin on your heels and head towards your bed.
As you plop down on your bed, you’re just in time to watch Jungkook dig in the pocket of his sweatpants and roughly throw something across the room, aimed right at the wall to your right.
You flinch at the clatter of a small box being smashed against the wall and turn to look at him with a frown etched onto your features.
He has never shown you any aggressiveness ever so you’re shocked at the sudden switch. “What the hell, Jungkook?”
He tugs on his long black locks before he quietly curses and turns, loudly stomping out of your room. The shuffling of him putting his shoes on reaches your ears and before you know it, the front door has been slammed shut.
Your hand sits on your chest, right over where your pounding heart is. You’re not scared of Jungkook and never will be but there’s a reason you don’t go to his matches. You don’t like seeing the boy with the entire galaxy in his eyes be aggressive, be angry, be consumed by hate.
When you’ve finally composed yourself, you take a few breaths to steady your ragged breathing. You deeply exhale and get up from your bed, walking over to the mini box and its spilled contents.
The small blue box is on its side, wide open and something shiny is sprawled out next to it.
Small tear shaped sapphire earrings that would fit perfectly with your estranged necklace.
The words – which you recognize as Jungkook’s handwriting – on the neon pink post-it that’s stuck to the inside of the lid shatters your heart into a million pieces.
‘Be my girlfriend (again)? :)’
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[6:30PM]
Hobi
I’m outside ^_^
You smile at your phone and apply your lip gloss as your finishing touch. With a final glance in the mirror, you give yourself a smile and a nod before heading into the hall and sliding your feet into your pumps.
You leave your home after locking up and quickly make your way down to the vehicle in front of your home before hopping into Hobi’s car, leaning over to give him a greeting hug.
“Hey, you okay?” he asks as he leans back and starts accelerating after you’ve closed the car door.
“Yeah. You?” you say as you buckle your seatbelt and open up the interior mirror above your head to check your makeup again.
“I’m fine.” He slows down in front of a red light and glances over at you. “What was all that about?”
“What?” you ask, already knowing what he’s talking about as you continue to check your teeth and waterline, ignoring the persistent lump that’s forming in your throat.
“Yesterday.” He returns his gaze to the road in front of him. “Well, more like this morning.”
You sigh and close the mirror, slouching in your seat as you glance over at him. “I’m sorry about that, Hoseok.”
Even if Hoseok was just helping you get inside, you feel bad about sending him away like that.
A chuckle leaves his mouth. “I know you are, I just thought I was seconds away from being decked in the mouth.”
You look out the window, pressing your lips together in an attempt at blending your gloss with your peachy nude lip combo.
“I know. Jungkook is just,” you pause, rubbing the scrunch between your brows.
He accelerates once the light jumps to green. “Is he the boxer?”
You merely hum in response, picking at the loose flesh around your manicured nails.
“You love him, right?” Hoseok’s question knocks the air right out of your lungs. The lump that had started forming in your throat has lodged down your esophagus and has unleashed a stream of lava that causes your heart to burn.
Your lack of response makes him nod his head, his hand coming to his jaw and rubbing his freshly shaven chin.
“And he certainly didn’t seem happy to see me,” he chuckles as he recalls the events of this morning.
“Yeah, well.” You nonchalantly shrug your shoulders. “He can’t just show up at my front door after two months of not talking to me.”
“Two months?” he repeats, leaning his left elbow against the window next to him and rubbing his chin with his hand whilst his other hand manages the gear shift and steering wheel.
You nod and cross your arms over your shoulders, adjusting the belt that’s digging into your neck.
He asks, “What was he doing for two months?”
You explain the events that happened two months ago, from Jungkook showing up to you telling him for the first time (again) that you love him. You explain the entire history between you and Jungkook, all the problems, all the love, all the pain, everything.
Hoseok knew you were still head over heels in love with an ex-boyfriend that also happened to be a professional boxer but he never pried. However, as he witnessed that embarrassing moment firsthand, you’re of the opinion that you owe him an explanation.
“Hm.” He thinks about what you just told him for a few moments, seemingly in deep thought. Unfortunately, you know Hoseok well enough to know when he wants to say something.
You turn your head to look at him, chest already tightening at the thought of him not agreeing with you. “You’ve got something to say.”
He looks at you for a moment before glancing back at the road. “I’m not sure you want to hear it.”
The raise in your brows indicates intrigue and surprise at his words. “Well, now you have to say it.”
He chuckles at the switch in your tone and parks in the theater’s parking lot before turning to look at you again. “To me, it just seems like he didn’t want to suffocate you again.”
“Suffocate me? He’s not going to suffocate me by texting me once in two months, Hobi.”
“No, I get that, and he is incredibly stupid for that but it seems to me like he’s so scared of losing you again that he didn’t want to ruin anything?” he explains, his point of view being a reminder that not everything may be what it initially seems to you.
You furrow your brows and part your lips to argue but Hoseok cuts you off before you can.
“What did he say after I left? Did he seem different?”
You think about it for a while. Yes, he did seem different, now that you think about it.
And then you’re reminded of Jungkook’s gift and his question. And at that, a surge of guilt spreads through your chest and starts bubbling up your throat.
“He, uh,” you start as you clear your throat, “he just asked who you were. The usual ex-boyfriend stuff. But he did kind of ask me to be his girlfriend again.”
He unbuckles his seatbelt and then turns to you. “So, I take it y’all made up, then.”
You shake your head, avoiding his gaze as you open up the mirror again to check if there’s anything in between your teeth to pretend you don’t care. “I told him to leave.”
“Why?” His brows are pinched together in confusion and you can see him aiming his frown at you in your peripheral vision.
You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly again, hoping to appear unbothered. “I saw his phone, one of his groupies texted him. Just wasn’t in the mood.”
“Did he text them or did they text him?”
You slowly turn to look at him as a frown climbs its way onto your brows. “What?”
Hoseok stares at your for a few moments in silence before repeating his question, “Did he text them?”
You idly blink at him, the image of Jungkook’s face when he swore it wasn’t what it looked like flashing in your mind. Fuck.
You quickly compose yourself and say, “I don’t know.”
Hoseok blinks at you for a few times with a slight pinch in his brows before slowly nodding. “Okay.”
“You want to say something again,” you groan loudly, rubbing the scrunch on your forehead to prepare yourself for what he has to say now.
Surprisingly, he chooses not to. “I’m not going to this time.” A chuckle leaves his mouth after he says that, shaking his head in the process. “Let’s go, the movie is about to start.”
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Australia, 1 week ago
With a big gulp, Jungkook slams his glass down onto the wooden surface of the bar he’s sitting at. He winces at the burning liquid sliding down his esophagus, bringing his hand up to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.
He stares at his lockscreen, a smile creeping on his lips at the picture. His eyes trail your fingers and your hand, how well they fit in his.
With a tilt of his phone, he unlocks it using Face ID and opens the message app. He scrolls until he sees your name, it’s been over a year since either of you last texted each other. Like mentioned before, he always comes back unannounced and you always act like nothing has happened.
It’s how it’s been for two damn years.
His fingers slowly start hovering over your contact name. Should he text you? Should he not?
He shouldn’t. You told him the two of you would talk about it when he’s back. Maybe he’d scare you off if he were to text you right now.
Besides, he’d be back in town in five days anyways.
Right as he locks his phone again, he’s dragged out of his thoughts when a hand squeezes his bicep.
He snaps his head in the person’s direction.
“You gonna keep acting like you don’t see me?” Ashley – an ‘acquaintance’ of Jungkook’s – says as she tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear.
(Read: acquaintance meaning a person he’d usually fuck if he was back in their country.)
“Oh,” he mumbles, his arm tensing up under her touch. Not to flex his arm but because he doesn’t want her touching him. “Ashley, right?”
“Hm,” she hums as she drops her hand from his arm, swiveling in her stool to face him, her knees pressed into the side of his thigh. “Doing anything tonight?”
He shakes his head as he continues to stare at the ice ball in his glass, his fingers fidgeting with the rim.
“Wanna do me?” she suggests, her feet making their way to rub up and down his calves in a teasing way.
He instantly regrets all the times he had her bent over his hotel couch, pounding into her from behind and kept his eyes shut to imagine he was fucking you.
He quietly exhales and rubs his eyes with the back of the knuckle of his index fingers as he looks for an excuse to reject her. “I don’t have any protection on me,” he mumbles, hoping she’ll get the hint.
Jungkook is responsible when it comes to his sex life. He’s quite literally always carrying protection. The only person he had ever fucked raw and would continue to do so are you.
So, these past two months he’d been walking around with nothing of the sort because he didn’t feel the need to. Now that there was that blossoming chance that he’d get back together with you, he’d wait for you.
He doesn’t want anyone else moaning his name, he doesn’t want to hold onto anyone else’s hips while pounding into them, he doesn’t want anyone but you.
“We could pass a nightshop on the way to my apartment,” she offers, her hand coming back to his bicep and sliding up his shoulder to his neck, the tips of her fingers playing with the ends of his hair.
The thought of anyone else touching him right now has goosebumps popping out of the upper layer of his skin and not in a good way.
“Let me use the restroom first,” he says as he gets up from his stool, subtly shrugging her hand off his neck in the meantime.
He looks her way for the first time since acknowledging her at the start and gives her the fakest smile he can muster. He walks around her and disappears in the sea of bodies that had started growing behind them.
He quietly makes his exit through a backdoor, standing in front of the building with his back to the door as it shuts loudly behind him. He tilts his head back and allows the infinite soft rain droplets to gently kiss his face and neck.
After a few more moments of enjoying the rain and distant booming music, he whistles at a taxi that he sees passing by and jogs toward it, hopping in the back before anyone else catches him.
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present
Damn Hoseok.
It just seems like he didn’t want to suffocate you again.
He’s so scared of losing you again that he didn’t want to ruin anything.
Did he text them?
Should you have heard him out?
You couldn’t even focus on that damn movie. Hoseok’s words and input kept clouding your mind, kept reminding you of maybe – just maybe – you were being unreasonable.
No, you’re not at fault for being upset that he didn’t say a word for two months.
You still think he’s an idiot for that.
Even if it’s been like that for the past two years. This time it was different and you’re not going to let anyone gaslight you into thinking it wasn’t.
But with how well you know his heart, his love, his passion for you, you should’ve known better. You don’t even know how long he’d been waiting in front of your door on New Years.
And there you were during New Years, opening up your front door with a man in your wake that had been in your (once Jungkook’s) bed.
You and Hoseok met at a party of a mutual friend one night and immediately hit it off. For the first time since Jungkook (about a year and a half after the break-up), you finally allowed yourself to let loose and do the thing Jungkook did to get his mind off of you.
You ended up having casual hook-ups with Hoseok, and goodness, was he amazing.
He fucked you good, touched you in the right places, said the right things, did everything right.
But he wasn’t him.
So, after about four months, you’d called it quits. Hoseok, being the amazing person he is, didn’t pry but insisted on staying friends and being there for you.
And that brings you back to the conversation you had with him in the car on your way to the movies.
He didn’t excuse Jungkook’s behavior but he made some good points, and damn him for that. Because now you can’t stop thinking about it. All of it. The worst being that Jungkook had planned to ask you to be his girlfriend again on New Years.
And thanks to all of that thinking, you find yourself in front of Min Yoongi’s front door a few days later.
Since you broke up with Jungkook, he never bothered to find a new place since he’s gone a lot. So, you assume he must be crashing at Yoongi’s when he’s not crashing at yours.
You raise your shaky fist and knock on the door.
A few seconds later, the sound of shuffling and keys jingling reach your ears and instantly sends a jolt of electricity up your spine. The door swings open and you make eye contact with his manager, his intense eyes make your heart almost implode within your ribs.
His frown at your presence almost stings. “What are you doing here?”
You look to the side as you swallow, hoping it helps you gather your courage. “Is Jungkook here?”
He scoffs, clearly unimpressed. “Why?”
“I need to talk to him.” You turn your head to look at him again, hoping you look as determined as you feel.
He dryly chuckles and shakes his head in disbelief. “So, you can kick him out at 4AM without hearing him out but he needs to hear you out because you’re the one that needs to talk now?”
You cross your arms over your chest to keep yourself from fidgeting and glance at the floor. “I want to apologize to him for that.”
“You want me to believe that?” He glances at his watch as if he’s unimpressed with your reasoning.
Gosh, why is he so stubborn?
Before you can even reply, he bitterly adds, “You need to quit playing with that boy’s feelings, Y/N.”
You finally look up at the older man, a quiver in your bottom lip and an imaginary bag of sand unleashing in your throat as your mouth dries out at his accusation. “I’m not playing with his feelings, Min,” you pause as you look away. “Please, just let me talk to him.”
“You can’t expect me to believe you came all the way out here just so you can apologize to him.” He slides his feet into his shoes, running a hand through his freshly cut hair.
He looks so nonchalant, as if what you’re saying is of absolutely no significance to him. The tightening in your chest tells you that you’re starting to lose your patience. “And why the fuck not?”
Yoongi’s eyebrows twitch as he takes a step closer to you, menacingly looming over you. You now know where Jungkook gets that from. “You could’ve texted him and he would come over in a heartbeat, you know that.”
“Let me stop you right there,” you say as you raise your hand, holding it up in front of his chest. “He’s not a fucking dog. I’m not going to text him so he can jump at every command. I know he would, which is why I took it upon myself to come here and personally apologize to him.”
Yoongi tilts his head to the side as he listens to your ramble, his arms crossed over his chest. You see the glimmer of something in his eyes but you can’t tell what it is, he’s always been too hard to read.
You drop your hand, wrapping it around the straps of the purse you’re holding in your sweaty palms to tug it over your shoulder. “So, will you let me?” you say after a few seconds of silence from Yoongi.
He narrows his eyes at you, still trying to read you and your intentions. But your sincerity is clear, evident by the fire in your eyes, your balled fists at your sides and the pinch in between your brows.
He takes a deep breath and steps aside to let you in. “Do what you want. I was about to leave anyway,” he mumbles as he slides his coat on and walks around you, heading out the front door.
He abruptly stops and turns to look at you one last time. “Don’t make him do anything stupid, Y/N. Or so, help me God.”
He stares you down as if he wants to obliterate you with a single blink of his eyes and with that, he leaves.
Jesus. What is his deal?
You clear your throat and compose yourself. You quietly close the door after he’s left, kicking your shoes off and make your way down the corridor, peeking into rooms until you find a door that’s shut. You try to open it but it’s locked so you quietly sigh before bringing your fist up and knocking softly on it.
“Can it wait ‘till tomorrow, hyung?” Jungkook’s groggy voice is muffled from behind the door.
Your chest tightens at his voice.
You shakily exhale as you drop your hand, your other hand still sitting on the door handle. “It’s me. Can we talk?”
Instant shuffling behind the closed door has butterflies eating your stomach from the inside out, your fingers tightly wrapped around the straps of your purse as you forcefully swallow down the bubble of panic that’s threatening to rush up your throat.
The door swings open and you’re met with bed hair, shirtless, sleepy Jungkook.
Your eyes drop down his figure but you quickly return them to his eyes, your lips pressed into a thin line.
His eyeballs are practically bulging out of his eye sockets at the sight of you here and his brows are dramatically pinched together but he quickly composes himself and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Why are you here?”
It stings, it does. You realize that asking him that day what he was doing at your place must’ve hurt this way. Burned this way. Stung this way.
“Jungkook,” you breathe out, your hands in front of your thighs with your fingers wrapped tightly around the straps of your purse as you swing it back and forth to distract yourself from the nerves creeping up on you.
He tilts his head to the side, parting his lips to answer your call but he closes his lips right away. The fact that he’s not replying is enough to have your heart stuttering in its rhythm, veins pulsating with fear. What if he tells you to get out like you did?
His silence makes you speak up and say, “I’m sorry.”
His expression doesn’t change but there’s a glint of surprise in his eyes. “For?”
“Everything.” Your reply is immediate.
He slowly crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re going to need to be more specific than that, Y/N,” he says with a stern tone in his voice that has your stomach twisting into a wringed out shirt.
You sigh as you watch him step backwards into the room again, leaving the door open for you, a wordless invitation.
He doesn’t even turn the light on, just goes back to sit on the bed but he reaches over to turn the flashlight of his phone on and turns his phone face down on the bed so it lights up some of the room.
You walk in and close the door behind you, looking around the room. You haven’t been here in a long time but not much has changed.
Your feet bring you to the foot of his bed, his eyes staring you down the entire time. “I’m sorry for sending you away and not hearing you out. I shouldn’t have done that.” You place your purse on his bed but stand in front of it still, anxiously fidgeting with the strap.
He continues to quietly stare at you which makes you continue, “I was,” you pause to sigh deeply, “I was upset because you didn’t talk to me.”
He exhales deeply and looks to the side, your eyes watching as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. “You told me we’d talk about it when I was back.”
“I know I did but I thought I’d at least hear from you if it was going to last that long. I was waiting,” you explain, not missing the way Jungkook has nervously started nibbling on his bottom lip.
“I just thought that last time…” You shake your head as you continue, “I thought last time was different.”
He slowly nods as he returns the eye contact finally. “You’re right, it was,” he quietly says. “I’m sorry. I should have reached out. I was just scared you’d push me away again if I reached out to you just because you said–” he pauses as he glances at you and then turns his head to look away again, “those words. That you’d think I was too excited or something.”
Hoseok — a complete stranger to him — read Jungkook better than you. You should be fucking ashamed.
You gently rub your eyes to not mess up your eye makeup and then walk around the bed, moving to stand in front of him. He refuses to look at you, though, staring at his lap as if it’s playing a movie to him.
“Jungkook,” you start, “look at me.”
He slowly turns his head and tilts his chin to look up at you. If he notices the way your hand slightly hesitates before reaching out to him, he doesn’t show nor comment on it.
Your fingers delicately tuck his long black hair behind his ear, mindlessly playing with the shell of his ear.
“Will you hear me out this time?” he asks you, eyes twinkling with hope.
You shake your head. You don’t want to hear him out because he doesn’t owe you an explanation. “You don’t owe me anything, Jungkook. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”
He wraps his fingers around your wrist as your own fingers play with his locks. “I want to. Will you let me?”
Your chest deflates as you deeply exhale at his stubbornness. “Okay.”
He reaches for his phone that he left face turned down on his nightstand and hands it to you. He’s telling you to check his phone to prove his innocence.
You shake your head as you push his phone away, you’re not that kind of person. You’re aware you and Jungkook don’t have the healthiest relationship but snooping in each other’s phones is something neither of you ever felt the need to do.
However, Jungkook is determined. “Just look at it,” he pleads.
Your eyes shift downwards as you curiously glance at the screen. It’s a text conversation between him and someone.
René.
You realize he’s showing you the full text conversation that you read last time and there are no replies from Jungkook at all.
[1:04AM]
René (AUS)
Why didn’t you tell me you were back in Australia? We could’ve gotten together and hung out!! Let me know when you’re back x
[1:06AM]
René (AUS)
Missed call (2)
You rub the scrunch between your brows and take a deep breath as the reality of the situation dawns on you. His words play on a continuous loop in your head.
I didn’t fuck anyone.
Jungkook had never denied it before. He would usually be quiet if you’d imply he’d been with someone. And if you think about it, that wasn’t even the part that made you upset. It was not hearing from him at all.
You push his phone back toward his chest when the text messages have mockingly stared at you long enough. “I’m sorry, Kook. I was such an ass.”
You continue, “This doesn’t change anything, I’m still a prick for not considering your feelings.”
He looks up at you through his pretty lashes, teeth chewing on his bottom lip which has reddened from all that nibbling.
You mindlessly press your thumb into his chin to make him release his bottom lip as you conclude, “Even if you did do whatever I thought it was you were doing, you have every right to. You don’t owe me a goddamn thing.”
“Just stop.” He shakes his head. “Don’t say that.”
You sigh as he dismisses your statements, he’s going to keep dismissing them so there’s no point in pressing him about it. “Well, I’m sorry. Are we good?” you ask as you tuck another lock of his hair behind his ear.
A soft smile stretches onto his pretty lips, his eyes glimmering like he’s holding the entire galaxy in his gaze, which is you. “Of course we are,” he says, eyelashes fluttering at you and if it was any quieter, you could probably hear the blinking of his eyelids. “Did you come all the way out here to apologize?” he adds, his voice quiet and uncertain.
No, you didn’t.
You slowly nod, sliding your fingers to his earlobe and down his jaw, rubbing his chin with your thumb. “I did.”
He nods his head and you notice the scrunch in his nose for a split second, a habit he has when he becomes emotional. Becoming emotional is the last thing you need right now so you avert your gaze to your purse on his mattress. “When will I see you again?” he quietly asks.
“You know where I live,” you say, telling him he’s always welcome whenever he needs you. You drop your hand from his face and reach for your purse, slinging it over your shoulder as you head towards the door again. The sound of him following behind you reaches your ears, letting you know he at least wants to walk you out.
It’s a direct parallel of whenever you walk him out of your house.
However, you change your mind and decide that right now is the best time to respond to his unanswered question.
“Actually,” you say as you turn on your heels, “I came for one more thing.” You take his phone out of his hand to use his flashlight.
He halts in his steps behind you and raises his brows, eyes shifting to your hands as you pull out a box from your purse.
You hold it out to him, shaking it slightly when it takes him too long to take from your hands. A frown sits on his brows for a moment but he takes it into his hands nonetheless, opening it to look inside of it.
It’s your estranged necklace, the one he gave you three years ago.
He glances up at you, his pretty eyes once full of love and hope now full of hurt and despair. His misunderstanding squeezes your heart until you almost can’t breathe under his pained gaze.
“You’re giving this back to me?” he asks, voice so small and barely loud enough to be heard.
You shake your head. “I’m asking you to help put it on me.” You turn the flashlight around to aim it at your face, allowing him to finally see the tear-shaped sapphire earrings he got you hanging from your earlobes for the first time since you walked in.
It had been dark in the room so he never noticed you wearing them until this very moment.
His eyes jump from your right ear to your left, the reality of the situation dawning on him like a pile of bricks. The smile that suddenly stretches onto his lips singlehandedly glues all the pieces of your broken heart together again.
He can’t contain his wide smile, fingers scrambling as he takes it out of the box. He throws the unimportant box somewhere on his bed and unclasps the necklace, wrapping the chain around your neck from the front, never breaking eye contact with you as his fingers fasten the chain behind your neck. He adjusts the pretty necklace around your neck and reaches up to play with the earring in your right ear.
You can’t help but smile at his giddy reaction, your fingers coming up to fidget with the pendant.
His hand drops from your earlobe to his side, fingers pinching at the fabric of his swears. “Is this a yes?”
(Read: He’s referring to the question he wrote on the post-it note.)
You shrug your shoulders with a smug grin and add, “Clearly it’s not a no.”
A soft chuckle leaves his mouth as he shakes his head at your teasing. His hands reach out and hold your waist, pulling you closer to him and your heart jolts in between your lungs at his proximity. He nudges your nose with his and respectfully drops his hands to your hips.
“Will you let me kiss you?”
The two of you giggle when you realize you’ve both asked each other the same question in unison. You bring your hands up to cup his face and press your lips to his.
He pulls you closer, closing the distance between the two of you as he tilts his head. His hands squeeze your hips and you hum into the kiss, moving your hands behind his neck so you can wrap your arms around his neck.
You pull away slowly and move to cup his cheeks, rubbing the apple of his burning cheek with your thumb.
“Stay the night. We’ll talk some more in the morning,” he says carefully, hoping you’ll agree.
You tilt your head to the side as his offer reaches your ears, a thinking pout on your lips before you part them to say, “I don’t think Min Yoongi would appreciate me staying over. He hates my guts.”
He stares at you for a moment longer and then glances at the wall. He knows you’re right. “He doesn’t hate y–”
You cut him off. “Yes, he does.”
“He hates what I let the relationship do to me. It’s not anything against you.” He tries to reason but you can’t forget the way Yoongi looks at you like he wishes you would just disappear into thin air.
He must’ve noticed the uncertainty in your expression. “I’ll lock the door,” he adds as he nods over your shoulder at the door.
“What are we, teenagers?” you laugh, rubbing his chest to make him look at you and he does.
He kisses his teeth after being in deep thought. “Okay, then just stay for a little while.” He pulls you down onto his bed, making you let out a surprised yelp.
You fall on top of him, hands still on his chest. You glance down at him and he’s got a shit-eating grin on his lips. He whimpers when you bring your hand down to slap his chest before you roll off of him to take your jacket off.
You toss the article of clothing somewhere across the room and your attention is disrupted when he wraps his hand around your wrist to pull you down and back into his embrace.
He pulls your back flat into his chest, arm hooked around your waist and his lips pressed into the back of your neck. He inhales through his nose and presses a soft kiss to your shoulder blade.
“I missed you so much.” He leaves a trail of kisses from your shoulder to your neck, not paying any mind to the goosebumps that he’s awakening directly under the soft flesh of his lips.
You hum in response and let your eyes flutter close. “I haven’t had sex in months so if you don’t stop kissing me right now, I’ll ride you for three hours.”
He chuckles and pulls away to say, “Aren’t we moving too fast?”
You roll your eyes at his stupid joke as you wiggle out of his grasp and sit up, your gaze shifting to him next to you, eyes scanning his cocky face. “You fucked me for two years, Jungkook.”
“Still.” He rolls onto his back to be able to look at you better and moves his hands up to place the back of his head on top of his palms, allowing you to look at the clear outline of his biceps and triceps. He adds, “We just started dating, you horndog.”
“Right,” you say as you mockingly nod your head and get up from his bed, starting to head out of his room. “Guess I’ll just ask Hoseok.”
By the time the ruffling of his sheets have reached your ears, you haven’t even made it halfway through the room. Jungkook drags you back by your bicep, pulling you backwards into the room. You let out a quiet shriek when he spins you in one swift motion, hooks his hands around your thighs and lifts you onto the dresser.
He wedges himself in between your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the dresser and holding you tightly by your waist, fingers draped over your ribcage. “You just love exploring my limits, don’t you?”
You chuckle and reach up to tuck his beautiful hair behind his ears with both hands. “You’re hot when you’re jealous.”
He shakes his head with a smile stretched onto lips, wrapping his arm around the perimeter of your waist to push your chest flat into his. “Yeah? I could also just text René right now,” he says as he shrugs his shoulders before adding, “ask what she’s wearing.”
Your face twists into a scowl as you press your hands into his chest in an attempt to push him off but there’s no strength behind the push because you don’t want to push him off and luckily, Jungkook is not budging.
You huff and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his jaw and leaving a trail of soft kisses on his honey skin. “You could but you won’t.” Your breath tickles him, apparent by how quickly you can get goosebumps to pop out of his skin.
“Hm,” he hums nonchalantly and tilts his head to give you more access. He adds, “You sound awfully confident.”
“Yep,” you retort right away, dropping your arms and placing your hands on top of the dresser, leaning back on them as you look at him. “Want me to show you how confident I am?”
He cocks his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side, contemplating your words. “And how would you show me?”
You blink at him, fluttering your eyelashes innocently as you push him back and hop off the dresser. You turn him around and press his back into the dresser.
You slowly sink down, squatting in front of him and caging his calves in between your thighs in the process.
You look up at him with an innocent twinkle in your eyes as you reach for the waistband of his sweats, waiting for him to give you the green light.
“Shit,” he breathes out before eagerly nodding.
A soft giggle pushes past your lips as you start tugging his sweats down his legs and letting them pool at his ankles. You’re faced with his black Calvin Klein boxers and fuck, does he look good.
You tuck your fingers under the hem of his CK boxers and slowly tug them down his legs as well. His dick isn’t hard yet but it’s slowly growing.
You place your hands on the outer-sides of his bare thighs and move your head downwards to take the head of his dick into your mouth without using your hands, pretty eyes still staring into his.
He curses quietly and places one of his hands on your head, staring down at you to watch your every move.
You keep your eyes glued to him, lashes kissing your brows with the same innocent glimmer in your pretty eyes. You continue to move your head down his shaft, feeling it harden in your mouth and grow heavy with blood on your tongue.
His dick starts rapidly inflating in your mouth but you’ve already completely lathered it in your saliva, making it easier for you to pump his base as you continue to suck on the first few inches of his hardened dick.
You slide your tongue down his shaft, tracing one of the veins down to his balls as you gently suck on them whilst pumping his shaft, your eyes never breaking the intense lock you have his gaze in.
He winces in sensitivity and his thighs tense in pleasure as you continue to suck on his balls, your thumb gracefully rubbing over the head of his dick every time your hand makes it up his shaft.
“Quit teasing me,” he demands but it comes out in a pleading tone, his hips slightly jerking as he tries to fight the urge to thrust into your hand.
“Quit teasing me, what?” you press a kiss to the side of his shaft, eyes menacingly mocking him as you refuse to look anywhere else. You love when Jungkook submits to you because he rarely does.
He grunts in annoyance. “Quit teasing me, please.” His hand on your head gently strokes your cranium, hopeful that you’ll comply.
But you have other plans.
You haven’t taken him into your mouth since you’ve started teasing because the moment you do, he’ll make you eat your own shit by mercilessly fucking your throat. And you’re in need of teasing him some more before you let that happen.
You lick a wet stripe up the downside of his dick ‘till you make it to his tip, collecting all the precum that had started oozing out of his dick onto your tongue. You teasingly lick all around the head, the tip of your tongue sliding in between his slit which makes him hiss.
“Y/N,” he warns, trying to sound stern but his mouth betrays him when a soft, desperate moan pushes past his lips right after he says your name.
You simply hum in response. He can sound stern all he wants to but you’re the one in control, not him.
One of your hands abandons his thigh, letting the cold air hit the warm spot on his skin that your hand has left and you bring it up to massage his balls, tongue still wickedly teasing his slit.
You innocently blink up at him as you start pressing kisses to his tip, the precum sticking to your lips as you leave a sloppy trail of kisses down his shaft.
“Y/N, please,” he whimpers.
The moment his plea reaches your ears, you part your lips wide enough for him to fit through but you don’t move. It’s a wordless invitation for him to come use your mouth however he pleases.
He gets the memo right away and doesn’t waste any time to slide right into your mouth, holding your head in place as he thrusts into your mouth, groaning when the head of his dick slams into your soft palate.
You blink your tears away but it’s useless as he continues to assault the back of your throat, tears uncontrollably spilling from your eyes and rolling down your hot cheeks, ruining your makeup in the process.
You tap his thigh twice and he understands, halting his thrusts and glancing down at you to check. Once you take his dick back into your mouth and move your own head down his shaft again after catching your breath, he throws his head back and lets you suck him off to the best of your abilities.
Your makeup has undoubtedly smudged all over your face but you don’t mind, not when Jungkook loves it. You gracefully move your mouth down his dick, committing the feeling of his hardened shaft effortlessly sliding over your tongue to memory.
He moans and groans a few more times and that tells you he’s nearing his orgasm. But just as you’re about to speed up, he stops you.
“I want to cum inside of you,” he tells you before sliding out of your sloppy mouth.
You try to catch your breath and nod as you wipe your chin and mouth with the back of your hand before rising to your feet.
“I don’t like that I’m completely naked and you’re fully clothed.” He reminds you that you are – in fact – fully clothed and he is – in fact – buttnaked.
“I don’t know, seems kind of fair to me.” You shrug your shoulders once you tug your shirt off and throw it somewhere in the room. You bring your fingers up to right under your eyes to try and clean up some of the makeup stains on your hot cheeks. “‘Cause aren’t you a pervert, anyway?”
He scoffs as he crosses his arms. “I’m the pervert?”
He takes a breath to continue his argument but it’s abruptly cut off when you unclasp your bra and toss it at him, watching as it gracefully drapes over his shoulder.
His eyes drop down to your chest as if he’s forgotten you even have eyes before his hands wrap around your waist and push you toward his bed with a quickness.
You let yourself fall back against the soft mattress but you can barely enjoy the feeling before his fingers tug your pants down your legs. You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as he mindlessly tugs your jeans off your ankles, angrily tossing it aside.
A soft giggle leaves your lips as you watch him be passive aggressive with your pants but not for long when his eyes shift to yours.
“Something funny?” he quips, eyes dropping down to the only piece of fabric that’s hindering what he wants to do to you.
You glance down at your panties before back up at him. Your hand travels down your stomach to your pelvis, slowly sliding your panties to the side, allowing him to see what a mess he’s made between your legs.
His tongue peeks out at the corner of his lips, sliding along his bottom lip as he eyes your attention-seeking sex. He hooks his fingers around your panties and slides them down your legs, tugging them off your ankles and tossing them somewhere on the floor over his shoulder.
He hunches over and positions his mouth right above your pussy before spitting on it, watching your legs jerk as he rubs it into your already soaked sex with his fingers. He knows you like it and he’s right, it drives you up the fucking wall every time he does.
He straightens his back and positions himself at your sticky sex, rubbing the head of his dick up and down your wet slit.
He wastes no time as he looks into your eyes when he pushes in, watching your face and how your eyes widen, your mouth falls open, your body jerks.
“Jungkook.” His name leaves your mouth in a desperate moan as he bottoms out, his brows furrowed and his bottom lip trapped between his teeth.
He lets out a low grunt and after a while of adjusting to the feeling of being inside of you again, he starts thrusting into you.
Your eyes shift to where you’re connected, intently watching how his dick disappears in and out of you. A pathetic moan falls from your lips, a surprised yelp following directly after when he grabs a handful of your breast, massaging it in his palm as he fucks into you.
His hips speed up in pace, the sound of his skin slamming into yours has your eyes rolling back and your arms give out, making you fall back against the mattress, sprawled out in front of him again.
He lets go of your breast and pushes one of your legs back, hooking it around his arm to keep it in place and mercilessly starts pounding into you, face hovering right over yours. “You’re so beautiful.”
Your eyes flutter open at his words, the only thing you can think about now is the stretching in your walls and his beautiful face in front of yours.
“You belong to me, don’t you?” he muses, face closing in on your neck as he presses soft kisses to your sweaty skin. The soft whines and whimpers leaving your mouth makes him fuck you harder yet gentler, full of love yet full of hate, want but also need.
You gather your breath to answer his question, in the mood to tease him now that he’s finally yours again. “No.”
Teasing each other is your love language.
His hips slow down and his face appears in front of yours again with a frown. His jet black eyes staring you down makes you want to sink into his mattress and disappear off the face of the Earth. He arrogantly clicks his tongue as he says, “Is that so?”
“Mhm,” you hum, closing your eyes as you move your hands up to the back of his neck to play with his hair, twirling his locks around your fingers.
He mockingly nods at your teasing. “You know damn well no one else fucks you like I do.” His thrusts get harsher, eyes dropping to your breasts bouncing from the momentum of his pounding.
You whimper at the switch, the rough pounding makes the wetness squelch extra loud and you’ve made a disgusting mess against his sex with your slick.
“You know, Hoseok was pretty goo–”
“But who’s the one fucking you right now?”
His rebuttal has you dead silent aside from the occasional, pathetic moans and heavy breathing. You open your eyes and the first thing you’re met with are his own, black and frustrated.
“The love of my life.”
Your reply to him has his hips stuttering in their rhythm, the corners of his lips twitching as he tries to fight the smile threatening to creep onto his lips. In order to hide his smile, he starts leaning down and presses his lips against yours in a sweet kiss, a stark contrast to the rough pounding of his hips.
Make-up sex really is the best.
You decide it’s enough teasing and wrap your legs around his waist, caging him in between your thighs as you pull him even closer. “I love you so much,” you mumble against his lips, arms wrapped around his neck to fully keep him trapped in your embrace.
He nods at the words, his pelvis still repeatedly slamming into yours. His hips slow down but the power behind them never subsides, the rough pounding has all your nerve endings set alight and your thighs jerk violently when the head of his dick barely grazes your cervix with each thrust.
“I’m gonna cum,” he mumbles against your lips, allowing you to lick into his mouth. You clench around his dick, walls wrapping tightly around him. He groans into your mouth, it’s your way of milking him of every drop and he knows it.
“Harder,” you moan once he pulls away from your lips, his brows knitting together as he complies, roughly slamming his hips into yours.
His breath is getting heavier by the second and his dick twitches in between your walls, alerting you that he’s seconds away from his climax. “I love you so much,” he mumbles as he ejaculates, painting your insides with his cum.
He keeps thrusting and lets long groans and moans leave his lips as he fucks his load into you, your soft whimpers in his ear are the cherry on top that drives him insane.
He gives you a couple more thrusts before he fully comes to a halt, face buried in the crook of your neck.
The synced heavy breathing, his proximity, the reality of the situation, it all has tears pricking in your eyes.
He slowly lifts his head off your shoulder, eyes searching yours. “You haven’t cum yet, hm?”
You shake your head in response.
“Remember when you teased me while sucking my dick 20 minutes ago?” he asks as he unhooks your legs from his waist.
Your breath hitches in your throat as you listen to him, already knowing where this is headed.
“Get ready,” is all he says.
He pulls out and drags you all the way to the edge of his bed, forcefully shoving his fingers into your mouth while the other wastes no time traveling to your sex and beginning its torturous assault on your sensitive clit.
Your throat is ruined from the screams you’ve let out when he continues to edge and overstimulate you for the next 30 minutes, watching in satisfaction as you writhe and squirm under his touch.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆
You wrap the towel around your frame as you leave his bathroom, eyes glued to him as he’s staring at the ceiling before his eyes shift to you. He turns on his side and props his head up on one hand, a smile on his lips as he watches you dig into his dresser for something to wear.
“When do you leave again?” you ask quietly as you pull out a pair of his sweats.
He stares at your back for a moment longer before answering, “Next Thursday.”
(Read: For context, it’s Friday right now.)
Your hands find one of his bigger shirts and you pull it out, placing it next to the sweats you chose on top of the dresser.
You continue, “Where are you going?”
He thinks about his answer for a few seconds. “Brazil,” he says. This conversation happens every time and yet he answers like it’s the first time you’re asking him these questions.
You slowly nod as you consider asking him what you want to ask him.
“How long will you be staying there?” you ask as you drop your towel and slide his sweats and shirt on, ditching your bra and underwear.
He looks up at you as he says, “I’m not sure, probably a week or two.”
Your feet slowly take you to him and you take your seat on his bed right next to him.
You nod your head in understanding again before you reach out to tuck his hair behind his ear, addicted to the way his soft hair feels against your skin.
“Will you let me come with you?”
Your question has him perking up like a cartoon character, lips twitching, eyes wide, ears expanding.
Ever since you met him, you had never flown out with him anywhere. You love change but you also love the comfort of your own home.
But love is about compromise, is it not?
He instantly shoots up in his bed and lunges at you, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame, face buried in your hair. He deeply inhales, his arms almost crushing your ribs, his pounding heart beating against your chest.
His breath has gotten shaky but you can tell that he’s fighting the urge to bawl in your presence. And eventually, he finally finds the voice that abandoned him in his time of need.
“I would love that.”
⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆
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petite-phthora · 5 months
Text
Please don't shake the cat
[DP x DC fic]
[Love at first... murder? - part 13]
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Part 1
Ao3
---
Private chat nicknames:
RedHood = Jason
Danny = Danny
---
Private chat
RedHood: *picture*
RedHood: this yours???
---
Seeing the picture of Ellie clamped onto Red Hood’s arm Danny lets out a sigh while rubbing his forehead. He takes a few seconds to look at the picture while deciding on how to reply.
---
Private chat
Danny: you don’t happen to be in Mexico right now by any chance, do you?
RedHood: No.
RedHood: I was out patrolling when I was suddenly bitten by her.
RedHood: Thought it might have been a criminal or stray cat or something like that at first.
RedHood: I was not expecting a feral teenager, but I can’t say this is the first time it’s happened.
Danny: damn, she was supposed to be in Mexico 😕😥
Danny: I guess this is what she was trying to tell me with that cryptic message she sent me huh
Danny: and the stray cat analogy isn’t too far off to be perfectly honest 🤔
RedHood: So you know her?
RedHood: Can you help me get her off? I’ve tried prying but she’s got some sick ass jaw strength.
RedHood: Which would have been pretty cool any other time, but it’s currently not really working in my favor.
Danny: I’m so sorry about her 😓 😓
Danny: we’ve been trying to teach her to ask for consent first
Danny: but it’s still a work in progress 😅
Danny: of course I'll help you get her off!! 😊🙃
RedHood: Great! You’re at your apartment, right?
RedHood: I’ll be there in two shakes.
Danny: please don’t shake the cat 😰
Danny: she’ll get grumpy and might latch on even tighter
Danny: I’ll come to you instead 🙃
Danny: you said you were patrolling, so crime alley, right? 🤔🤔
RedHood: Well, yes, but I doubt you’ll be able to get up where I am right now.
RedHood: Let me at least come down to the ground first and I’ll tell you how to get here.
RedHood: Danny?
---
Jason looks down at his unread messages with a slight frown. He puts his phone away and looks back at the teenager on his arm.
He gives his arm a small shake, causing her to growl at him which immediately makes him stop.
Right… No shaking the cat.
Jason lets out a weary sigh before looking down over the edge of the building to the ground below. He’s trying to think of the best way to get down with only one functional arm when a voice breaks him out of his reverie.
“Hey, Hood. I’m here!”
He turns around, slightly alarmed that there’s a second person who managed to sneak up on him tonight.
Damn, he’s getting rusty
Though from anyone whom he had been expecting to see, he had not been expecting to see the guy he messaged a minute ago standing behind him on the roof.
“How did you get here so quickly? And for that matter, how did you even get up here?” Jason asks confused.
“Oh, I flew” is Danny’s casual response, which gives Jason more questions than have been answered. But before he can decide whether he should bother asking for clarification Danny already moves on to the next topic.
“Anyway, let’s see what we can do about this,” he says, approaching Jason’s arm and the girl that’s hanging off of it.
“Good luck,” Jason says, holding out his arm a little better and watching bemused as Danny and the teen have a stare-down.
“Ellie, what did we say about biting others?”
The teen, Ellie, narrows her eyes and growls at him. Danny just crosses his arms and gives her an unimpressed stare.
“Nah-ah, you have to let him go. We ask before we bite someone. It’s called consent. Don’t make me get Jazz to give you another lecture”
It’s clear to Jason that Danny’s attempt at talking to her isn’t working when the teen proceeds to glance at Jason calculatingly before giving Danny a challenging look and biting down harder.
Apparently, it’s clear to Danny as well, as the next thing he does is let out a put-upon sigh before declaring “Well, I gave you a chance. Guess we’ll have to do this the hard way”
Danny then grabs a hold of her and tries pulling her off of him.
What is his life? Jason thinks as he’s standing there while Danny tries to physically pull the teenage girl, who decided his arm looked like a nice snack, off of him.
Though luckily for him, it seems to work as not a few seconds later Danny has pulled her off of his arm and is now holding the teenage girl with a bloody mouth up by her armpits.
Danny sets her down with a sigh but before he can speak up, the teen crosses her arms and levels Jason with a sharp look that makes him straighten up.
“Thou winneth this round, Red-Helmed Knight of the Night. Though thou should be prepareth, as the upcoming trials will be even more toilsome” Ellie declares while pointing at him, uncaring of the blood on her face.
“And I,” She points a finger back at herself for emphasis, ”Sir Ellie of the Infinite Realms, will—” she gets cut off when a fly enters her mouth.
Danny moves to help her but she holds up a hand to stop him, using her other hand to thump on her chest a few times.
She spits the dislodged fly out onto the floor and glares at it.
“Curse you! Foiling my monologuing once again!” she yells after the fly as it flies off.
Right…
Jason turns to Danny.
“So is she your sister?” he asks curiously. And totally not trying to fish for more information about Danny and his family.
Instead of Danny answering the question though, Ellie cuts him off.
“I’m his love child with the mayor of our town.”
Danny gives her a disgusted look.
“Ellie—”
She looks back at Danny with a shit-eating grin on her face.
Yeah, definitely siblings.
“I love my dads!” she says proudly, her eyes still on Danny.
Danny gives her a deadpan look in response before it changes to a more mischievous one.
“Oh, I’m sure Vlad would love to hear all about how you reclaimed him as a father figure—”
“Oh Ancients, no. Don’t even joke about that” She fake gags at him before turning back to Jason.
“Can I change my answer? I’m his bodyguard” She says, pointing her thumb at Danny.
That makes both Danny and Jason raise an eyebrow at her, though Jason’s can’t be seen through the helmet. They speak up at the same time.
“A bodyguard, huh?”
“No, you’re not, that’s Frighty”
Danny’s statement makes Jason pause and turn to look at him.
He’s got a bodyguard?
Ellie shakes her head happily.
“Nope! I took over the position. My knightly title isn’t just for show, y’know? I earned it fair and square!”
“When did this even happen? And why was I not told?” Danny asks, bewilderment covering his face.
Jason stays silent as he tries to make sense of the conversation.
“About…” Ellie takes a moment to think about it “3 months ago? I think it was when you were dealing with some time chores. And I thought it’d be a nice surprise, so… Surprise!” she exclaims, doing some jazz hands at the end of the sentence.
“What did you even do?”
“I snuck up on him and threw a Fenton Wii remote at his head which knocked him out cold. It counted as a win so I earned the position by right of conquest and gained my knighthood” She says with a shrug.
“Huh… think that would’ve worked for Pariah Dark as well? Would’ve made things so much easier…”
Ellie gives another careless shrug as Danny lets out a small reminiscent sigh. Meanwhile, Jason stands awkwardly to the side.
“Well, either way, I’m proud of you. Do you have a video?”
“Tucker filmed it for me, yeah”
“Nice”
They high-five with grins on their faces. At this point, Jason lets out a small cough which has the Fenton siblings turn around startled and proceed to then give him identical sheepish smiles.
They really look like they could be twins…
“Ah, sorry Red Hood. And again, I’m sorry for Ellie.” Danny says, rubbing the back of his neck with a small blush on his face.
“I’ll take her back home. And uhh… see you next time?”
Jason gives him a smile from under his helmet.
“Sure, if you’re still up for that next date?” Jason trails off with some hope.
His words make Danny’s blush darken.
“Ah uh, yeah! Yeah, of course! The next date! Uhmm, I’ll text you! Or you can text me. That’s fine too!”
Next to him, Ellie rolls her eyes and makes some fake gagging motions. She then grabs Danny by his arm and starts dragging him away.
“Come on, Loverboy. You can and your paramour can flirt later. When I’m not there… and after he’s passed my trials” she says, muttering the latter part low enough that Jason can’t hear. But, judging by the way Danny’s head snaps back to her and how his brows furrow, he did hear.
Just as Jason goes to reply, giving them a thank you and a goodbye of his own, perhaps even an offering to help them get down from the roof, he picks up on movement behind him.
Quickly turning around has him regretting not leaving the rooftop earlier, as he watches the Bats (and birds) land.
Fuck.
---
Taglist:
@i-always-say-yea   @uraniumwizard    @why-must-i-be-like-this   @griffinthing @i23432i @imsotiredfanficlovertm
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esmedelacroix · 3 months
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Romeo e Giulietta[a mafia love story] pt.1
mafioso!miguel x f!mafioso!reader 🂱
cw: suggestive
first part | miguel masterlist
prev ←→ next
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The prevailing belief was that once Antonio Romano was too old, the Romano family's dominion over the Italian Mafia would end. Although he had a daughter, his wife had died during childbirth, so he had no son to take over. His daughter didn't take 'no' for an answer when it came to taking over the Mafia. With extensive training, she finally became the leader of the Mafia after her father's retirement...
You're the most powerful woman in all of Italy. Everyone assumed you couldn't be as good of a Mafioso as your father. But, they were so wrong; you are pretty reckless and never have a plan. But your carefree attitude only added more fun to your line of work.
You have a few rules in your familia. Never go out unarmed. Never be transparent about your affiliation. Don't let others read you. Blood is thicker than water. Never trust the O'Haras.
Another rule that could easily be added is: don't ever mention the head of the O'Hara Family Mafia, Miguel O'Hara. You hate each other so much, but anyone would think that, right? Your family feud dates back centuries, it's so old that no one really remembers why you're supposed to hate each other in the first place. But that doesn't matter because you do. Anytime your families have to meet to make a negotiation, you would always get into heated arguments with one another and request privacy.
When you were in private, you would argue even more. Your bodyguards would hear vases and glasses shatter onto the floor. They wondered how fostering so much hate for a single person was possible.
If only they knew what was happening in there...
Miguel would slide everything off the table to place you on it as he trailed wet hot kisses down your neck, leaving marks in areas only the two of you could see. If only they knew how hard you tried to stay quiet when Miguel had your legs spread across the table. You would resort to pulling at tufts of his hair as he feasted between your legs.
No one would ever really know the true nature of the intimate looks you exchanged when no one was looking, and they would most certainly never know that when Miguel claimed to be bringing women home from the club, it was really their biggest competitor in the Italian mafia scene in his room.
But you hate each other so much...
You woke up to the sun beaming through the floor-to-ceiling window that gave a beautiful view of the city. You had gotten so used to waking up in Miguel's bed. That morning you had a breakfast with your father that started two hours ago. You had to hurry and sneak out. You slowly got out of bed, trying not to wake him. Your attempts were useless, though, because, in a matter of seconds, you felt his big warm hands wrap around your waist, pulling you back onto the bed with your back flush against his chest.
"Per favore[please], Miguel, I have a hectic morning," she said as she removed his hands from around her waist and got out of bed to change back into her clothes.
His lazy eyes watched you as you walked around the room naked, gathering all your clothes from the night before putting your pants on. He was mesmerized by everything you did, even when you've been together for eight years.
He slowly crept behind you when you were about to put your blouse on and buried his head in the crook of your neck.
"Can you just stay for five more minutes? What are you so busy doing today?" he asked as he rested his head on your shoulder, his voice still raspy; if you had no self-control, you would have folded from his voice alone.
"Well, I'm too busy kicking your ass all day as usual," you replied as you put your earrings on, smiling at him through the mirror. He rolled his eyes playfully, accepting defeat.
"Please, baby, just five minutes," he said lowly in her ear, knowing the effect he had on you. He slowly started to trail kisses down your neck. You leaned into him and hummed in pleasure, tilting your head back into his shoulder to give more access to your neck. You heard your phone buzz snapping you out of the trance he put you in.
"Mio amato[My love], seriously, I have to go, so help me sneak out of here," you said eagerly.
"Yes, ma'am," he sighed as he looked around the hallway to confirm that no one would see you; but he was always armed, just in case.
You successfully snuck to the back door without running into anyone. You draped your arms around the nape of Miguel's neck and kissed him.
"Will I be seeing you at the charity event tonight?" you asked hopefully.
"Of course, sweet stuff; now get out of here," he joked. You rolled your eyes and blew him a kiss. The moment you turned away, he landed a firm smack on your ass, causing you to yelp, turn around and shake your head at him.
"Watch it," she warned playfully before disappearing into the streets.
You opened your front door hoping that your father would be off at the range or playing polo with friends despite you missing breakfast plans.
"Giulietta Bianca Romano," you heard your father's stern voice call from the living room couch. you were almost fully up the stairs when he caught you trying to sneak back in. Shit.
. . .
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taglist: @dei-drei @starrygetou @decentsoupperson
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ivystoryweaver · 1 year
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With you part 7
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<- prev next -> || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist
Summary: Jake just kissed you. Will he let things change between you?
Pairings: Jake Lockley x reader, Steven Grant x reader, (Marc Spector x reader). Gender neutral reader. No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.
Word Count: 2k
Warnings/notables: Angst, complicated relationship stuff, kissing, cursing, crying. Let me know if I missed a warning. inaccurate DID, based on the show. Not beta'd we die like arthur harrow in the back of jake's car
Dividers by saradika
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PREVIOUSLY, on "With You"...
"Stop telling me what to do," you fired back, refusing to shrink away. "You're driving me crazy. If you don't want to talk to me, or know me - if you want to sneak in and out of here every night and never see me again, then just say so."
Your chest heaved with emotion. "I won't like it and I won't ever stop worrying about you, or wanting to know you, but --"
You didn't get to finish because Jake roughly pulled you into his arms and crushed his mouth to yours.
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You had expected something hard. Intense, possessive. Like Marc.
Or surprisingly, blisteringly seductive. Like Steven.
Jake was tender. And you fell apart in his arms.
Expecting a frantic shove up against the wall, you got, instead, arms cradling you like a treasure. He rocked you gently - gloved fingers winding behind your neck.
The searing heat of his tongue made your chest burn with longing. Realizing you had melted in his embrace, your own arms limp by your sides, you reached suddenly and desperately for his curls.
Knocking the cap off his head, you threaded your fingers through his hair, using the leverage to pull yourself upright, arching against his chest as he groaned into your mouth, tangling his tongue with yours.
Strong arms flexed against your back as he wrapped you up tighter, pulling his lips away for a moment and rubbing his nose against yours.
Unable to resist the heated temptation of your breath, he kissed you again, deeper this time - hungrier.
You were used to this body - accustomed to the response it ignited in you.
But, to Jake, you were all new. A wondrous discovery. He wanted to touch and feel you everywhere at once but the stupid bird was thundering in his head, sending a faint but definite breeze fluttering through the bedroom.
"Wait...mi vida," he panted against your parted lips, pushing you back by your shoulders. "I can't. I have to go"
Your entire world had changed in the span of a kiss - your heart, already so full of love for this system - dug down deeper to plant new roots for Jake to grow there. Forever was born anew in your soul, just like it had been when you met Steven...
...and he had to go?
"Jake," you gasped, undeterred by supernatural events around you, gripping his arms as if it might actually keep him with you. "Wait, please--"
"I know," he softly replied, touching his forehead to yours. "But people are in trouble. They need help."
Releasing you, he stepped back, reaching for his cap. "This is what I have to do. It's...the point of me."
"The point of you? Jake--"
"Yes," he answered firmly, pulling the flat cap over his curls before taking a few determined strides toward the door.
Pausing, he glanced back at you - breathtaking you, so adorable in your hoodie and joggers, peering at him so expectantly. "Imagine if no one was there to help you the other night, mi vida - what could have happened to you..."
You needed to accept this. The way you accepted Marc's sobriety journey or Steven applying to university. This was who Jake was and this was his choice. The stolen moments in his arms - the slight relief of the tension between you just now had granted you at least this clarity.
"I understand," you breathed, grateful that he at least tried to explain himself. "Just...be careful...okay?"
"Claro," he nodded, heading toward the front door.
"You don't use the window?" You teased, following after him, to sweetly see him off, rather than plead with him further.
Turning back, he jingled his keys in front of you with an amused smirk. "Marc gave me a key."
"Wow," you chuckled, impressed. "Be careful," you repeated. "I-I'll wait for you.
"No, mi amor." Jake shook his head, grasping your elbow the way he was prone to do. "Go to sleep. You have your shift tomorrow--"
"Okay," you conceded, feeling a secret thrill that he seemed to know your schedule. The warmth of possibility bloomed in your chest, making it easier for you to agree instead of firing back.
Seeming satisfied with your answer, he finally left.
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You did wait.
You sat in Steven's favorite reading chair, which was conveniently located close to the front door.
You listened to the podcast again. Did a puzzle. Read for a bit. Drank another cup of coffee. Splashed your face with cold water. Five times.
But eventually, you fell asleep.
And that's where Jake found you a few hours later, when he entered through the front door (for a change).
Curled up in a ball, with your hands tucked cutely into the sleeves of Marc's hoodie, Jake just stared down at you for a moment. Tempted to leave you there to rest, he found he couldn't resist scooping you into his arms and carrying you to bed.
You barely roused as he lay you down gently and covered you with a blanket. Quickly changing out of his work clothes, he washed up before joining you.
After what happened between the two of you earlier, he was more tempted than ever to touch you somehow - to pull you close. But the body had already lost enough sleep tonight. Steven was going to be so tired for class in the morning.
He couldn't take anymore time away from them. Or you. That wasn't his purpose.
Feeling exhaustion pulling at the corners of his mind, he decided it was for the best - to give himself over to it, like always. You would have your fiancé in a few hours.
Then your alarm went off.
You woke up immediately, digging into the pocket of your hoodie to silence the intrusive noise. That's when you noticed your fiancé in bed with you.
"Sorry! I'm so sorry." Sitting up, your eyebrows gathered in confusion as you tried to figure out...
"What are you doing?" Jake sat up as well, his deep voice affirming that it was still him - that he had yet to fall asleep.
"I'm sorry," you repeated, rubbing your eyes. "I tried to stay awake, but - well, I set my alarm just in case."
"Just in case what? You have to be at the hospital in a few hours, mi vida."
"I know...and I'm not trying to bother you, I just wanted to make sure you were okay." Softly sighing, you set your phone on the bedside table. "And I didn't know when I would see you again."
Shaking his head, Jake eased back onto his pillow. "That's how it's supposed to be. You have work. Steven has class. The rest of the time is Marc's. I can't take anything else from him."
It took you a minute to process everything Jake said.
"What?" You responded, the implications of what he'd just voiced astounding you. "You want Steven and me to get some rest - I get that. But what exactly are you taking from Marc?"
Lying down, you turned on your side to face Jake, who was staring up at the ceiling.
"Everything. His life. Time. And now you too? I can't," he exhaled shakily. "We can't. It's better the way it was."
Oh, game on.
"Better for whom? For you? Jake...I told you that the reason I stayed up and waited for you earlier was for two things - " You sat back up determinedly and counted the reasons off on your fingers. "One - to ask how you were doing - which I still haven't had a chance to do, and two - to tell you that if you don't want to ever talk to me, or see me, or be in my life, then to please just tell me."
"It's not what I want, mi corazón - it's what has to be - what always has been," Jake said insistently, sitting up in bed beside you, gesturing with his hands. "You don't understand how it works with us - how things have to be.
"Everything I do is to protect us - all of us, because Marc can't live without Steven. And he definitely can't live without you. ¿Entiendes?"
Raking his hands through his hair, he sighed in frustration. "I already fucked up, that night, in the alley, and then he started drinking again, and you were fighting, and it's because of me. I'm only supposed to make things better, not worse.
"And now, tonight, I shouldn't have done what I did, before. You-you don't belong to me." His chest heaved as he shook his head.
"I don't belong to anyone, Jake." Your voice was softer now, the ache in your heart prompting you to reach for his shoulder. "I choose to be with Marc, every day. And Steven."
Inching closer, you traced over his neck to cup his cheek, feeling his jaw clench under your fingertips. "I chose to wait up for you. I want to wait up for you, and to know you."
He physically withdrew from you then, turning his head away from your touch. And that hurt. Still...you couldn't force him to want to know you, despite how confused that intense, delicious kiss had left you.
Reaching for Jake's hand, you gently traced your fingers over his knuckles - only briefly, before pulling away, giving him the space he clearly wanted.
"Jake...all this must be so hard for you to bear. I can't even imagine. But you don't have to do everything all by yourself." Your lip trembled as you quickly started to realize this conversation was ending. You were both exhausted, and Jake was used to sleeping, or another alter fronting, by this point.
In one last bold attempt, you darted over to kiss the soft fabric over his shoulder.
"Remember that you have a family. And in families, you don't just do jobs, you matter." Lying down on your pillow, you felt warm tears drip down your face, but you tried to keep your voice from shaking. This was about him, not you. "You matter to me, Jake. Even if you can't love me. It's okay - I just want you to know you're not taking anything away from anyone. You only add more."
Jake could hear the sweet sound of your voice and his skin burned from your touch, but a void of impossibility engulfed him. He was so tired. It was so much work to operate in a way that contradicted his entire existence. It was easier to slip away, and before he could even think that he should respond to you...
Steven breathed your name in the dark.
Quickly turning your back to him, tears flooded your eyes. Biting your lip hard to keep your cries to yourself, you attempted to pretend to be asleep. Jake was right that both you and Steven needed some rest.
Your plan worked. Sleepily rolling over, Steven's face found your neck and he latched onto you in typical Koala Steven style. Thankfully he was too exhausted to feel you shudder in his embrace.
Finding comfort in your fiancé's tender, strong arms, you began to calm down. But after everything tonight, your mind raced as you re-evaluated your approach to Jake. Apparently you had done every single thing wrong. He was abundantly clear on his role in the system and what he wanted - or, in this case - didn't want from you.
Why were you fighting him so hard?
After a few minutes of sweet torment, you climbed back out of bed and headed to the bathroom. Shutting the door quietly, you allowed your tears to flow a little more freely, easing down to the floor with your back against the door. Burying your face in your hands, you quietly sobbed, drenching the sleeves of Marc's hoodie.
It wasn't like you to cry very often, or to even operate at the whims of such a wild range of emotions. But as your soft gasps settled, and you leaned over on the bathroom floor, completely drained, you realized something.
If there was anything in this world you wanted, it was for Marc to feel accepted and loved - every single part of him. That, of course, meant Steven, but now it meant Jake too. If Jake didn't want your love, you would have to accept that, but the fact that he seemed to think he didn't even have the right to exist outside his protective role - to ever talk or interact with who he called family, including his alters - it killed you.
That was the last thing you remembered before you passed out asleep on the bathroom floor.
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Coming up: Marc finds you on the bathroom floor and freaks right the hell out. Will you see Jake again anytime soon?
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neobomb · 8 months
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give into things i (dont) want to [na jaemin]
academic rival! (yandere ish) prev! big ego!Jaemin x  reader, hints of library worker!math major!Jungwoo x reader Part of the give into things i (dont) want to series. Warnings: mature themes, toxic/inappropriate behaviour, masterbation, forcing??, implied slut shaming, MDNI, there will be smut in part 2 Word Count: 2.2k Summary: You learn about academic rival!Jaemin's biggest secret. © 2023 @neobomb. Unauthorized copying, translation, manipulation, or alteration of this work is strictly prohibited. All rights reserved.
Jaemin never viewed it as a competition, the rivalry between you and him. It wasn't about outdoing you. More than anything, he yearned for your attention. With time, he faced a truth he couldn't escape: he was deeply, hopelessly in love with you. He adored that confident smirk you'd wear whenever you believed you had the upper hand. The way you'd toss your hair back as you raced to claim your favorite study spot in the library, ensuring he couldn't get there first. Something about you got him filled with excitement. 
But for you, every interaction was tinged with rivalry. You hate him so much. With his stoic façade and that penetrating, icy stare, he stood apart. You've always had a distaste for those who appeared too perfect, and Jaemin epitomized that to a tee. Not only was he the top student at your school, but he was also incredibly handsome, rich and popular. The young boy wants to be a surgeon when he grows up. It's almost laughably cliché, like a scene from a cheesy rom-com. Boys wanted to be him, girls wanted to be his. 
Senior year of high school was poised to be the most pivotal year of your lives. The first significant exam loomed just after your 18th birthday. You don't regret skipping your birthday celebration, as securing the top score and outperforming Jaemin took precedence in your mind. It’s more important to stay on top, you thought to yourself.
You’re sitting at your favorite spot in the library, a secluded spot framed by expansive windows. You love to sit there because it's hidden and private. The sun rays from the windows fall on your cheeks, as you tap your pen lightly on your notebook. You stare intensely at a specific problem from a past lecture. 
“To tackle this problem, one common approach is to use the residue theorem. Consider the contour that is a semicircle in the upper half-plane, C, which is composed of the real line segment from −R to R and the semicircular arc of radius R in the upper half-plane, where R is a large positive real number.” You turned around, confronted by the insufferable smirk you knew all too well. Jaemin is standing right behind you with his hands behind his back.
“Nice try, Jaemin. I don’t need help from a pretentious prick like you.” You refocus on your problem sheet, doing your utmost to block out his irksome presence. 
“You just looked like you were struggling so much.” You brush off his comments. They hold no weight for you now. He'd thrown every insult at you, calling you every name in the book, and over time, you learned not to take them to heart. It was wiser to remain unfazed by the persistent negativity, or at the very least, to appear so. 
“I’m not listening to whatever you’re trying to say.” You slipped your headphones back on, signaling your intent to shut him out.
"Well, happy late birthday, loser." he remarks before retreating to his usual spot. He always chooses the table adjacent to yours, separated by a sizable bookshelf that obstructs his line of sight. But he'd subtly shift a few books, creating small gaps that allowed him to sneak glimpses of you, desperately hoping that you wouldn’t catch him in the act. He could observe you engrossed in your studies for hours on end. 
You have always been really pretty. Sometimes, when you would scratch your legs, making your skirt ride up higher, or when you would unbutton your shirt low enough for your cleavage to be exposed, he would unbuckle his pants, bring out his painfully hard dick, and jerk off to the sight of your delicate body like no tomorrow. He would only be able to bring himself to do such sinful acts in the late hours when only you and he remained in the library. 
Occasionally, when you would step away to use the restroom, Jaemin would quickly approach your desk and steal some of your personal items, ensuring he discreetly returned them to easily spotted locations the very next day. His favorite item to steal would be your cherry flavored chapstick. You never thought it was odd how your personal items would vanish, only to reappear by the base of your desk the following day. 
It was embarrassing to him, truly. It felt pathetic to be so smitten with someone who calls him a loser, an arrogant snob, someone who would likely never see him in a romantic light. 
-
For as long as Jaemin had been aware of you, you'd mostly been a solitary figure, steering clear of the limelight. A complete loner. During breaks, Mr. Johnny Suh from English Literature appeared to be your sole confidante, as you eagerly exchanged thoughts about your recent reads. Your eyes always lit up with passion when discussing a book's turning points. Occasionally, Jaemin would interject himself into your discussions, eager to catch your gaze. "Such a teacher's pet," you'd silently muse whenever he did that.
But recently, Jaemin noticed a new figure entering your orbit. Your growing closeness with the new library employee, Kim Jungwoo, had him curious about its origins. Jungwoo, a math major from the town's renowned university, and coincidentally good friends with Jaemin’s older brother, Jaehyun.
Always working the closing shifts, Jungwoo often assisted you with your math homework. In return, you'd stay late to help him tidy the bookshelves. Jungwoo, the comedian that he is, often left you bursting into giggles with his endless jokes. On occasions when you felt uneasy walking home alone, Jungwoo offered to walk you home, even though his apartment was on the opposite side of town.
It was clear that it all enraged him extremely. Jaemin is extremely jealous. He detested how Jungwoo would sit beside you in the library to help you with your homework, obstructing his view of you through the gaps of the bookshelf. Jungwoo would keep an eye on your desk whenever you had to use the bathroom.
Jungwoo had invited you over to his apartment for dinner, and you presumed it was a date. Your excitement was palpable. Over the recent months, you had developed a crush on him. He was the epitome of a gentleman, brilliantly intelligent, humble and undeniably attractive. Always, treating you with the utmost respect. 
As you neared what you believed to be his door, you quickly check your reflection in a compact mirror, touching up your makeup and hair for the hundredth time. Taking a deep breath, you then pressed his doorbell. 
In a swift moment, his door opened wide. "Y/N, you're right on time." Jungwoo greets you with a smile, ushering you into his apartment and gently shutting the door behind you.
"I brought your favorite snacks," you mentioned, just as he enveloped you in a warm embrace. 
As the evening unfolded, you and Jungwoo conversed for hours on a myriad of topics. He cocooned you in blankets and played your favorite tunes. Yet, you sensed something amiss with him; he appeared somewhat distant, as though something weighed on his mind.
“I feel like you’re holding back on something. Something that’s bothering you.” you voiced, attempting to diffuse the palpable tension. 
“I’m all ears. You can tell me anything.” You remind him. He scratches his head before taking a deep breath. 
“There is something I’ve been meaning to tell you. The exact reason why I asked you to come over.” He starts. “Since people have been complaining about lost items at the library, I was assigned to watch over some security footage…” He paused, letting the silence stretch.
“And?” you prompted, eager for him to proceed. “It’s Jaemin… I watched him beat his dick to you on the security footage… I think…” You're completely taken aback. The words don't seem to compute. Surely, you would have noticed if anything of the sort had occurred. You simply did not believe what you’re hearing. 
“I’m not totally sure since the footage is not of the best quality… But it seems like he’s watching you in between gaps of books on the bookshelf… And it would happen often, like… every other day and it would only happen when you’re there.” Jungwoo continued. He finally meets your gaze. The depth of concern in his eyes reveals just how troubled he is by the situation.
“There is also footage of him stealing your items whenever you leave your desk.” You had often pondered why, since spending time with Jungwoo at the library, your items never went missing or were left behind like it always did previously. 
“I never had the opportunity to tell you this because I always felt like he was watching us. Sorry for not telling you about this earlier.” He pulls his arms around you in a comforting hug. 
“Please, Y/N. Be careful. I can help you get a restraining order on him. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Your face is buried in his chest. 
“Jaemin can be dangerous, especially if his ego gets hurt. I've known him since he was just a baby in diapers. Please trust me, Y/N.” Although uncertainty lingers about the whole situation, you trust Jungwoo. You take him at his word, believing he has no reason to deceive you.
It's been two weeks since you discovered Jaemin's unsettling perverted behavior. The library hasn't seen you since; the memories are just too unnerving. At school, you stopped talking to Mr. Suh. You refuse to put yourself in any situation that might lead to an encounter with Jaemin. Instead, you've done your best to sidestep him, believing it to be the wisest course of action for the time being. Hopefully it will keep you safe for now. 
It did not take long for Jaemin to pick up on the unusual habits of yours. Jaemin's anger is palpable. Something prompted your avoidance, and he's had his suspicions from the start. In his mind, it had to be because of Jungwoo. Who did Jungwoo think he was, effortlessly pulling you closer while Jaemin, ever so impeccable, felt sidelined despite harboring feelings for you all these years? It all seemed too orchestrated. He has to do something about it, he thinks and lets his anger completely take over. 
As you make your way home from school, nearing a narrow alleyway, a sudden sound catches your attention: "Why haven't you been at the library? Struggling to keep up with me?" Jaemin's voice caught you off guard as he stood casually in front of you, hands nestled in his pockets. Nervously, you tugged away your earphones, a look of unease evident on your face. The library had always been your sanctuary. Jaemin couldn't help but wonder if Jungwoo was the reason for your absence. 
"I... um... I have somewhere… uhm… to be," you stammered, attempting to move past him, but he obstructed your exit, moving awfully close to you. 
“Why have you been so nervous lately? You’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?.” Jaemin says with an amused smile. ”You’ve always called me names. Pretending to be so cool. Now you can’t even look at me without shaking to your core.” he continues.
“It’s Jungwoo isn’t it? You like to play innocent but you’re not. You like playing around with older guys, don’t you Y/N? I wouldn’t be surprised if you tried to shoot your shot with mr. Suh." Jaemin's voice pierces the silence, sending a chill down your spine. "I... I don't know what you mean… We’re just friends." you respond, your voice betraying a hint of panic.
“You’re the worst liar, Y/N.” he says he pins you to the brick wall, holding a tight grip on your wrist. Jealousy was written all over his face. “Jaemin, please. What are you doing?” you plead to him. Terror gripped you. The menacing darkness in his eyes seemed to penetrate your very soul.
Jaemin swiftly put his lips on yours, pulling you into a deep and lustful kiss. Tears wells your eyes as you desperately try to release yourself from his strong grip. This feels wrong. So wrong.
Jaemin pulls back from the kiss to search your eyes. He recognizes that expression instantly - the look of defeat. The anguish that twisted your expression only seemed to fuel his satisfaction. He could tell he was causing discomfort, and your reactions confirmed it for him.
He goes in for another lustful kiss to then break away from it again. Jaemin sought your gaze, firmly grasping your face until you were compelled to meet his self-assured, lustful eyes. With each passing moment, his sense of relief grew, sensing your surrender. He could feel the weight of your defeat and the shame of realizing you were powerless against it. This was it. He had you exactly where he wanted you. Perhaps it had been a competition all along, and he had emerged victorious.
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doobea · 5 months
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BORN TO MAKE HISTORY ─ RIN ITOSHI
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synopsis: After his brother takes a nasty fall and calls out before the new season starts, Rin has to step up as your new figure skating partner.
✰ ✰ ✰જ⁀➴ PLAYLIST. | MASTERLIST
contents: an ice skating au fic (very much yuri on ice inspired), fem!reader, ice skating terms and irl figures thrown around, inaccurate depictions of figure skating, sfw, rin being awkward, sae is a decent brother in here, characters are in their early-mid 20s, talks about ISU grand prix, mentions of mental health (depression, anxiety, burn out, imposter syndrome), heavy narration, rin centric word count: 5.1K a/n: life has been super busy and hectic recently :( kisses to @popponn for beta reading my works as always <3 im forever grateful for you :) more notes towards the end of the fic <3
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PREV. RINK | NEXT RINK
“What should we wear?” You’re pacing across the living room, hand tucked under your chin and brows furrowed. 
Sae’s leaning to the side on the couch, trying to get a decent view of yesterday’s playback practice run on the rink every time you cross his line of vision. Rin’s also trying to pay attention to the jumps and step sequences too but, whenever his parts are about to come up, you seem to pause in front of the TV.
“I dunno, ask Rin,” Sae shrugs and turns up the volume, hoping that you would catch the hint. 
It doesn’t matter though, because you’re shuffling in place and now your attention is honed on your phone, scrolling rapidly through what Rin can only assume are images of various costume designs. He’s seen a few of your professional photos from the previous years during his recent down time, a lot of the designs highlighted your feminine side with bright colors and pastels. It suits you, no surprise there, considering your outgoing personality. Rin, on the other hand, likes to keep it moody and, as his fans would like to call it, “Dark Paradise” core — whatever that means.
Well, it wouldn’t really matter if you did happen to ask for his opinion because, recently, Rin didn’t give two shits about what he wears. If anyone were to peek into his closet, which they would definitely need to fight through him first, they would discover an array of all different shades of black and blue in their deepest forms. Oh, and all he owns is athleisure attire, too. Rin doesn’t bother with all things fancy and tailored ever since going on break, though he has a creeping feeling that he might have to go back to it soon.
“As long as it’s not flashy, I’m fine with whatever.” Rin answers finally, and closes his eyes as he says it, realizing that he’ll either look incredibly out of place with whatever costume idea you’ll have in mind. He can’t quite place why he feels so stressed about it. 
“Whatever?” You chirp back with a slight tilt. Rin can almost see the gears turning desperately in your head as your foot taps away in deep thought. “Have we even decided on a theme yet?”
“Considering we literally just started practicing? No.” Rin huffs out. He tips his head, letting his cheek settle comfortably against his palm. 
Safe to say, his thighs and feet hurt like hell, laced with heavy exhaustion from yesterday’s session. He probably needs more sleep in more but, with both you and Sae knocking on his bedroom door this morning, he firmly decided in his mind to sneak away after today’s practice to catch up on some hours.
“Your jumps are sloppy,” Sae points out casually. 
Rin rolls his eyes. “Thanks for the tip.”
“Anytime,” his brother shoots back before replaying the same damn sequence where Rin nearly loses his footing. The video is now playing in slow motion and zoomed in, painfully reminding Rin that he needs to upgrade his skincare routine. Somehow, he’s glad that you’re still covering half of the TV screen, unaware of the near wipe out scene from behind. 
A few seconds later and Sae speaks again. “You look stiff here, bend your knees and loosen your arms.” 
Rin sighs. “ ‘Kay…” 
“We’re still going for ‘love’, right? Or are we not doing that?” Your arms are crossed, fingers drumming away, still deep in thought and tuned out from their own conversation. “What songs do you wanna skate to?” 
Before Rin could even provide a half-assed answer to that, Sae interrupts his thoughts with, “Please try and at least look like you’re having fun.”
“…noted,” Rin decides with a sigh. “I’m going back to bed when this is over.” Screw napping after practice, he barely got a full eight hours last night and being berated so bright and early in the morning killed any sort of energy he had prior.
“Nope,” Sae pauses halfway through the video, turning to face him with a stern look. “You’re not going back to bed, because then you won’t wake up in time for practice. Sleeping in will only ruin your current sleep schedule, too.”
Rin wants to retort that he’s not a fucking child anymore, that he doesn’t need Sae to be looking after him. However, there’s the fact that his brother is sorta his manager now and in charge of quite literally everything of Rin's career. Also, it’s kinda hard to come up with a solid comeback when they’re reviewing his rusty movements, lackluster jumps, and every thirty seconds he’s taking a small break to catch his damn breath. 
You eventually plop down in the middle of the couch, between both brothers, when you realize that your question isn’t going to be answered simply. After Sae finally gets the chance to thoroughly watch a good chunk of yesterday’s practice sequence, you switch topics. “Just so you know, Rin, have you seen your comment section lately?”
Sae shuffles in his seat and suddenly Rin feels the air in the room thickening. Rin fiddles with his phone in hand, knowing full well that he did post a ‘comeback’ announcement only to then quickly turn his app notifications off, because… of his feelings of self cautiousness? Would that be the right term he’s looking for?
“What did he do?” Sae’s asking you because he knows damn well Rin wouldn’t give him the full details and you’re just so damn open about everything so Rin can’t possibly hide from this one.
But, instead of answering Sae, you cough, loud and awkward, before shooting Rin an apologetic look. “Um, nothing…?”
Alright, well Rin takes it that you’re a god awful liar. 
Sae’s now staring directly in Rin’s direction and he’s trying so hard to avoid eye contact right now by pretending that their family portrait wall is the most interesting thing in the room. Of course, that doesn’t work because he can hear Sae tapping away freely on his phone and—
“Did you fucking block me on Instagram?”
Okay, yeah, Rin totally forgot about that, too. To be fair, when someone is going through a depressive episode for over a year, the last thing anyone would want to see on their feed is the success of their older sibling.  
“No?”
And, turns out, he’s also an awful liar. 
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Sae is not happy. He is very, very unhappy. 
He’s not usually the emotionally expressive type to most people, so that usually leaves Rin the luxury of experiencing the back end when his brother does decide to let his walls down. And, well, in the past, when he did get pissed off, Sae would normally vent about his coaches and stalkerish fans with a bit of sass to it, but today? 
He’s currently grumbling and groaning and Rin’s pretty sure his shirt is on backwards, and bless your soul, but also fuck you, for dragging him into this mess. 
After a very short Google Search of what Rin has done, followed by an equally as short lecture on how to be professional on the internet, Rin is grimley reminded by the large number of likes and retweets on Twitter that his announcement might’ve not been the best thing he’s ever posted. He really can’t understand why though, because Rin was deadset sure he was going to lose his career nearly three years ago when he got into a fight with another skater, so why is he getting canceled for announcing something… tamed? Well, he also hasn’t exactly opened his social media apps since then. A strange gnawing feeling comes up whenever he fights off the urge to check.
“You should’ve held off or at least came to me before posting something like this.”
It’s a miracle that there’s nobody else but you three at the local rink right now. It’s been nearly an hour since arrival and Rin has gotten nothing but an earful from Sae. If any family were to walk in, they’d probably immediately walk out by the sheer amount of heavy tension steaming off on the ice. 
You’re stuck in your own little corner doing all sorts of warm up jumps and stretching, glancing over every now and then at Rin as your way of saying ‘sorry’ and ‘are you doing, okay’. To which, Rin would glance back with a very stiff shrug. 
“What difference would it make?” Rin’s cheeks are a little flushed and there’s a slight hitch to his breath, he had just completed a couple of routine jumps Sae instructed him to do.
“Plenty,” then Sae flashes Rin a quick glimpse of his phone screen. 
An array of outrageous news articles and forums come through, many of them pointing out the strange timing and the internal turmoil of sibling rivalry. There’s a couple of them mentioning drugs, two threads from some third-party news site throwing your name to the mud, and then a short Buzzfeed article listing a slideshow of other skaters congratulating Rin for rejoining the sport again. 
“People are speculating that you’re only stepping in because I’m down for this season. If you would’ve just waited until everything was put together then everything would’ve been different.” 
Rin blinks a little, surprised by the flush coloring his brother's cheeks that’s most certainly not from the cold rink. 
Although, in a way it did make sense. If there’s one thing that famous athletes do know about the media is the fact that news outlets love fabricating drama out of nothing. Sae’s a well known gold medalist, no matter what division that medal came from, so his name came out of people’s mouth as frequently as compared to Yuzuru Hanyu or even Yuuri Katsuki, whenever figure skating was mentioned. It made sense for others to grow suspicious when Rin randomly posted that he’s coming off of hiatus without further explanation. Sae most likely hasn’t told anyone that he’s being subbed in.
Rin hesitantly nods, his snarky response dies in his throat and he feels like he’s swallowing needles when faced with the awkward reality. He’s now reluctant to speak, unsure if anything he’d say would make a difference — for better or worse. Knowing himself, probably the latter. 
After a few seconds of silence, followed by a few jumps performed by you in the background, Sae runs a hand through his hair, in what Rin believes is a rare nervous gesture, looking away briefly. 
“Revival,” his brother finally blurts out. “That’s the theme. You guys fine with that?” Sae’s asking, but there’s a finality to his tone. Rin and you will have to be fine with it. The season starts in a few months, soon Sae would need to prepare choreography for two programs, consult a designer for custom fittings, and take over all things that a coach and manager would do. Somehow, despite being out for this year, Rin thinks Sae might have the hardest job here.
“No objections here.”
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Two months and many hours of exhausting training later, you and Rin are standing in the locker room for the first competition as an official pair. It’s the first day of the Japan Figure Skating Championships and, somehow, you look more put together than he is.
“Think this looks good?” You do a 360 spin in front of the wall mirror in your short program outfit. It’s a simple short black, gray dress with mesh sleeves and small rhinestones running down the middle. According to the designer, it’s supposed to represent the night sky. 
Rin stands behind you and adjusts his black vest. Gold and white thread accents throughout his patterned shirt compared with plain black trousers. He’s supposed to adjust his cuffs, but his fingers keep fumbling with the last button because his eyes are awkwardly getting lost in your outfit. Luckily, you’re too focused on yourself to take notice.
You eventually lean closer, repeating the question when he takes too long to answer, and he feels your breath against his shoulder. “Everything alright? Are you nervous for today?” Your voice is a little hesitant, full of concern that makes Rin’s stomach slightly jump to his throat. 
“Everything’s fine,” Rin sighs as he manages to shove the last button through. It’s not like he’s going to lose this competition, he might be somewhat rusty but he didn’t qualify for the Grand Prix Final just based on his name alone. “It’s just… a little bit weird that we’re the oldest ones here,” he confesses. 
“You’re still hung up about that?”
It’s stupid and maybe a bit irrational, he knows that much.
You’ve also already tried to convince Rin otherwise multiple times today, but he couldn’t shake off the humiliating feeling of entering a competition where your competitors are almost half your age. Okay, maybe Rin’s being dramatic, but at least five years younger. From what he can recall, it was usually the other way around whenever he competed in men’s singles tournaments. Having to see and now experience that is something he never really mentally prepared himself for.
From the moment he stepped into the locker room, Rin was basically towering over the rest of the athletes. It’s fine, kinda, all he really needs to focus on right now is landing all of his jumps and catching you. Sae’s a strict teacher, but he doesn’t force weird techniques on others if he knows they can’t handle it. 
“Isn’t he, like, totally washed up right now?”
“Shh, don’t say it so loud, Makoto! He’s right there.”
“Oh, shit, let’s go before he…” Rin didn’t get a chance to hear the rest of the sentence, not with you scooting right beside him on the bench and shoving your right ear bud into his ear. 
He’s learned quickly from the following days that you are not the playlist type of person like most people. Unlike normal and sane folks, you have all of your liked songs in one playlist and you like spending your time shuffling away through the vast hundreds of genres and artists until finding the right one. In your own words, if you were to make a playlist then it would easily be over a few dozen — why do that when all of your favorite songs are in one spot? 
That being said, you’re currently blasting a Frank Ocean song before shifting through a couple more songs with the intent of finding both the short program and free skate song. Oh, and for some reason you don’t use the search function at all through your liked playlist. Apparently, it “ruins” the fun. 
“This would’ve been a nice song to skate to,” the tune switches to something more upbeat and indie, Rin recognizes the band to be Florence and the Machine from the vocals alone. “Sae complained about the song being too long and I called him a lazy loser shortly after.” You say with a smile but Rin’s eyes drift down only to see your leg bobbing up and down rapidly.
Rin tries to pay no mind as he continues to put on his skates. “A six minute long performance would be too much,” he agrees with Sae’s previous answer.
“Hey, tickets to these sorts of things are expensive nowadays with scalpers everywhere!” You try to reason. “If someone’s spending two hundred dollars on a seat then they can sit through a six minute long skating sequence.”
Rin rolls his eyes as he fiddles with a tangled lace. “I didn’t mean the people in the audience, I meant the skaters.”
“Well, maybe we should learn a thing or two from people who do Disney on Ice?”
“I do not want that to be my fall back career, thank you.” A shiver creeps down his spine at the thought of being forced to skate while wearing a Mickey Mouse costume of all things. Seriously, do people clean those suits?
“Hey, are you…” both of your ears perk at the sound from behind. Rin turns around first, he’s immediately greeted by one of the younger male competitors. The boy looks like he’s still growing into his body, probably not any older than seventeen.
“Yeah, I am,” Rin finishes the obvious question. Maybe the kid’s a fan by how bright his face lights up soon after. “Is there something you need?” Sae’s been drilling him to be a little bit more receptive to fellow competitors and fans alike, in order to fix some of his reputation. 
“I’ve been looking at your past performances, lately,” the kid starts with a smile. “Last year, during the Grand Prix Final, you did good!”
“Thanks—”
“Your theme was the same as the previous years, but I guess that’s just something you’re comfortable with, right? The falls that you took, it was because your balance was off. You need to work better on finding your center during jumps if you seriously plan on competing in the senior division again.”
Rin only notices the pain digging in his fists when you reach over, palm encasing over his closed ones. You don’t bother looking his way, but you do say something to the kid. It sounds muffled though, or maybe Rin’s somehow zoning out? He’s not sure. 
The loss from the Grand Prix is apparently still at the forefront of his mind, no matter how much he tells himself otherwise. People love to pick out that particular part in his performance, acting as if they could pull it off any better. And, for a brief moment, all his past of anger and frustration at the sport suddenly comes rushing back at an overwhelming rate. Rin’s wondering who else wants to criticize him when they meet him again. 
“Don’t they teach kids manners these days?” You try to shoot a glare back but, from Rin’s perspective, it just looks like you’re mildly constipated. 
It kinda ends up working, because the kid backs off, scurrying away and off to his manager for last minute pep talk. Sae’s currently running late as usual, but it’s not like you two would need any words of encouragement. Rin’s competitive nerves have fizzled out by this point, at least for this event, but he’s now seething with discomfort. He’s certainly positive that you’re feeling the same way. 
“I take it back, some of these kids need to be humbled and maybe even bullied.”
Okay, while Rin would agree, he feels like he has to somewhat step up in Sae’s place to make sure you don’t accidentally get kicked out of this competition for sucker punching a kid.
“It’s fine, don’t get too worked up over it. I more or less expected comments like that.”
Rin never expected anything to come easy. Climbing for his spot again in the competitive world can be absolutely ruthless and meeting skaters who are arrogant, condescending, and taunting are just part of the reality. He suspects that everyone else sees him as a washed up skater, never as a real competitor, or a real challenger for the gold medal.  
“Still,” you pout, unsatisfied by his logical response, but drop the conversation as Rin tightens his laces. Then, you finally manage to find the song for the short program section after the relentless shuffling.
“It’s fine,” he reassures, and really, it’s kinda-sorta fine. It’s something that he’ll eventually get used to, even if he’s well aware of the heinous rumors floating around. Everything will die down after a week or two since most people can barely hold their attention span nowadays. 
“If you’re positive,” you go back to your phone, but not before poking Rin’s sides and redirecting his attention towards the TV screen in the locker room. “Hey, the first pair is competing.”
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Pair skating is a lot different from competing in singles. Aside from the obvious involvement of another party, there are more requirements in the short and free skate performances. In the Adult Singles programs, the skater focuses more on their jumps, having a higher emphasis on how many quads they can shove in — or at least that’s how Rin used to work. Quads granted him the majority of the points, it’s something that he can take some pride in compared to his other juniors and seniors. 
For pairs, instead of focusing on jumps in the sequences, it’s lifts. There’s two types of lifts, overhead and twists, both are required in the programs. In general, overhead lifts rely on the movement of the person in the air, the control and execution of their rotations around the person carrying them. For twists, the most “exciting” part of the performance by judges’ words, requires an insane amount of coordination and strength since Rin has to propel you into the air by the waist.
Sae had the lovely idea to throw in three overhead lifts, just because he thinks Rin can handle it. Those evening practices at the rink, followed by early morning lifting sessions absolutely killed him, both physically and spiritually. Though, safe to say that he’s just about near his physical peak last year from all the training. 
You and Rin both waited patiently in the locker rooms for the first three pair performances, only leaving and heading by the outer rink when you guys queued next. Sae leans against the railing, the brace on his foot now gone and, instead of chunky sneakers, he’s opted back to his expensive loafers. Maybe that’s why he ran late, just in case paparazzi took snapshots of his entire outfit. Go figure.
“I think you guys will have no issue securing gold.” Sae’s voice comes through the haze of Rin’s thoughts, sounding distinctly unimpressed by the current line up. “Even if you guys fumble your lifts, I think the amount of it will carry enough points.”
Erupted cheers soon fill the air and all eyes turn to the rink as the pair’s performance ends. You soon recognize one of the skaters being the teenager from earlier and throw Rin a look. 
“We’re going to make sure that he doesn’t get a chance at winning until next year.” You announce, tone casual but eyes flickering something darker than what Rin’s used to.
Sae scoffs and leans against the railing, holding Rin’s Winnie the Pooh tissue box in his arms. “I’m assuming the locker room talk wasn’t all too friendly?”
“Maybe not your usual idea of friendly,” and Rin surges forward, taking your hands into his, when the pair in question struts by and casts both of you a nasty glare. Your grip around his bicep tightens and, while he didn’t care too much about beating a bunch of lukewarm competitors earlier, Rin’s fully certain that he wants nothing more than that gold medal and to clear both of your names from accusations right now. 
Piano sounds ring throughout the arena from the speakers, starting with a single word that you’ve both heard countless times during practice. The soft piano notes quickly turn into a somber melody, growing louder with every passing second. The music is beautiful. Haunting, even. Capturing the audience in a trance while Rin prepares you for your first lift.
It’s strange, he thinks. While he’s gotten used to handling you, this is different from every other time. During practices, you’re always carefree and cheerful but, out here, surrounded by cameras and opinions of others that don’t weigh a thing, you’re focused and extremely precise in your form. 
Rin thought he knew your routine. Clearly, he’s mistaken. 
You skate with conviction, confidence, and accuracy. He can understand why you were originally Sae’s skating partner. 
Once you’ve landed back on the ice, keeping up with Rin’s speed, the two of you follow the song’s beat with a smooth series of spins and jumps, each one rotating faster and faster until it feels like the mere audience is just a blurry backdrop in the foreground. 
The final lift jump transitions easily into a simple step sequence before finally ending in a death spiral. Rin has a firm grip on your hand as you begin flattening your body low enough, face barely grazing the ice below, as he pivots you around in lull circles. 
Judging from the sounds from the audience, Rin didn’t need to stay around to know the results of the performance. The roars, chants, and the standing ovation from them is enough to make out the outcome but, for your sake, he’ll stick it through.
You both glide through the last few seconds of the short program, focusing on nothing but the music and remaining movements. Finally, the music notes fade out and the two of you come to a rest in the middle of the rink, the final position has Rin tipping your body backwards with your arms wrapped loosely around his neck, as if you both were reaching for something just out of your grasp. 
Thunderous roars ring in his flushed ears and you’re shooting him a look, eyes glassy and lips parting, possibly saying some sort of praise, but Rin can’t seem to focus. He’s too lost in thought, too distracted by the tenderness of the performance, the flashing lights, the way your chest is heaving in rapid waves, and didn’t realize he had been holding in his breath until you pulled him into a tight embrace.
Everything is just about perfect. Every jump, lift, and spin. He can already imagine the gold medal around his neck, and the thought of winning gold at the Grand Prix only makes the rest of his blood course through his veins faster.
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Being a professional athlete again is… exhausting. 
Rin spends the following day in back to back conferences and being introduced to people. Most of them end up being unremarkable and forgettable. A couple of them are rude and eccentric, with one guy in particular honing down Rin in a corner and bombarding him with questions both surrounding his performance last year and his personal life. You and Sae had to step in to diffuse the situation before Rin blew a hole in his career again. 
By the end of the night, Rin debates whether he should switch careers because this shit is absolutely not for him. It’s no surprise to anyone that Rin hates being around people and this night he’s probably escaped to the restroom maybe about five times to catch a breather. And, while Rin is not the type to exactly care about his image, he absolutely does a full body inspection in the full body mirror every time before he steps back out. Each time he revisits a new wrinkle line forms.
And his brother hasn’t told him when it’ll be over.
Rin’s hands twitch after another self-proclaimed journalist finishes up a half-ass interview about his latest goals for this year. He pulls out his phone when they suggest giving out their contact information and Rin just zones out, tapping away gibberish in his notes app and nodding until they finally went away. 
He feels like he’s going to vomit and pass out if this goes on any longer.
“You look like you’re about to freak out,” and of course, you have the decency to point that out as he’s made the fruit salad section his little hideaway spot. Turns out people really dislike any sort of fruit dishes at these fancy events. 
“I’m not,” Rin muffles back, mouth stuffed with various chunks of honeydew and grapes. Even if it is true, he’ll never admit it, but it also does suck that he's stupidly easy to read. “The food just sucks here, that’s all.” The fruit isn’t that bad. Maybe just the strawberries. 
“Whatever you say, partner,” you roll your eyes playfully, almost giggling at the nickname before taking a sip from the glass of champagne in your hands. “If you want, we can sneak out of here and explore the city.” It’s a suggestion but, from the way you’re smiling, Rin picks up that he can’t wiggle his way out of it. 
But he tries anyway.
“Do you even know your way around?” He sounds vaguely concerned. 
Sure, it’s been approximately two months since you’ve crashed and turned his life a complete 180, but you’re still new to the area and very much new to the country. Rin’s heard you picked up basic phrases from his brother to get around but it’s still nearly not enough to go and explore, especially late at night. And, rightfully so, he doesn’t plan on babysitting while you waltz around half tipsy off your mind after winning first place.
You fake a wound over your chest and gasp, hiccuping soon after. “I have maps on my phone! I already pinned and favorited a bunch of cute stores we can check out.”
Rin doesn’t know why you even bother throwing him into the equation considering it’ll clearly be stores you’ll like. 
“And where exactly do you think you’re going?” Sae’s sauntering over, a half empty glass of wine in hand, and his movement is a little sluggish, but he’s probably the only few sobered up person in the room aside from Rin. 
“Out,” you reply with a casual shrug, as if Sae’s supposed to be satisfied with the answer. 
“Out...” Sae echos before flickering his sudden sharp gaze over to Rin. He feels himself straightening up before he realizes. “You guys still have to make your statements to the press, you know that, right?”
“Can’t we do it after we get back?” You quickly dismiss Sae’s annoyed scrunch with a quick waft of a hand. 
Rin really doesn’t want to stand in front of a bunch of drunken and overly zealous journalists right now if he doesn’t have to. The idea of visiting a few late night street vendors might just be his highlight for today. 
“Hey,” Sae’s agitated voice snaps him out of his daze. “Are you seriously going out?” 
Instead of providing his brother a proper answer, Rin takes a hold of your hands and throws his jacket over your bare shoulders. You were complaining earlier about losing yours, and the last thing he wants is a drunk and cold skating partner in the middle of the streets of Nagano.
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2024 — NAGANO: JAPAN FIGURE SKATING CHAMPIONSHIPS
Posted 16 hours ago 278,293 views
Comments 543
[niCOnii] - 10 hours ago All these rin haters from earlier can eat my socks because i knew he would comeback!!! his partner ain’t half bad either tbh View 30 replies [klnen2003] - 9 hours ago GO TO THE VIDEO AT 4:45 and see how Rin looks at Y/N!!! There’s definitely something there, right??? View 12 replies [YOICHISAGI OFFICIAL] - 9 hours ago Can’t wait to see Rin Itoshi and Y/N L/N compete at the Grand Prix this year!! Let’s catch up sometime! View 154 replies [jiroMark8734] - 8 hours ago I dunno… isn’t it weird how they swept everyone else tho? Can’t tell me that they’re both not taking anything lmao [my_skates_my_life] - 7 hours ago Congrats to everyone for winning!! And thank you so much for posting this. LOVE FROM ARGENTINA!! [merhaba234] - 7 hours ago Rin’s always doing the same level type program both in technique and artistic. It’s refreshing to see something new!
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TAGLIST - OPEN
@anurst @blissblossom @genneii @wooasecret @chaosinanutshell @kaiserkisser @rroxii @takotakigum @jaynawayna @peachesncats @sseishiross @izumi-astra-123 @sereniteav @pokkomi
a/n: im crawling on the ground,,, if anyone knows me: i love making rin suffer but please know its in a loving way. is his brother hotter? yeah. but does his brother have a sad backstory? yeah probably. either way, i love working w men with sibling complexes and his whole design basically oozes with melodrama. rin!!! you are gonna be in it for a surprise next chapter!! also apologies for the late update everyone hehe i dont have a set schedule for everything ;-; and my mind runs either at 500 miles an hour or 0 miles. as of late, life has gotten in the way of things and maybe i do need to stick with some sort of plan to make myself ... less stressed when creating content :> anyways, i love you guys!!
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ventismacchiato · 2 years
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40 just playing the part — after party !
epilogue
scaramouche x g!n reader
notes: still in the future, tw: fluff, suggestive content, this is just a little smth to wrap the au up neatly
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You exchange smiles and polite nods as you make your way past the staff and fellow actors backstage, clutching your award in your hands against your chest. There was residue sweat stuck on your face from the fluorescent lights of the arena and your mouth was dry from all the speeches you did. But you had your mind on one thing, better yet one person. Your fiancé whom you hadn’t seen in a week due to opposing schedules was finally under the same roof as you and the night was nearing its end before he was swept away on yet another flight.
After what feels like a stressful eternity you finally spot a tuft of indigo hair in the distance making its way to sneak into a dressing room to get away from socializing. Typical.
You maneuver your way through, catching the door with your heel and slipping into the dressing room. You look around, it was barren. You narrow your eyes, had you gone insane from not seeing your lover for so long you were hallucinating him?
Just as you were about to turn around to leave disappointedly you felt a pair of arms snake their way around your waist and a firm chest press against your back.
“Hey,” Scara greets, his chin on your shoulder as he plants a kiss on your neck, “Congrats.”
You turn around, quickly wrapping your arms around him and going straight for his lips.
“You too,” you grin, eyeing the trophy identical to yours with his name imprinted on it sitting by the mirror, “I had a running bet you’d cry on stage, you lost me a hundred.”
“I can cry for you in bed later,” he murmurs, his hands caressing your hips as his lips trail your jaw, “I don’t have to leave until tomorrow afternoon.”
“Good,” you say, sliding your hands underneath his dress shirt impatiently.
“My mom was in the crowd today,” he says against your lips, taking the trophy from your hand to set it on the table so he can gently press you against the dressing room door.
“Took her long enough,” you smile before you feel the door behind you push against you in an attempt to open.
You and Scara quickly separate from one another and try to fix yourselves as your manager, Jean, walks in. She eyes Scaramouche’s undone collar and your disheveled hair with a heavy sigh.
“No comment from me,” Jean says, shutting the door behind her, “I’ve received the news.”
“About…the project?” you ask, sharing a look with Scara.
“Yes,” she smiles, waving her phone.
You and Scara had been trying to book a role in your ideal marriage location so you guys could finally tie the knot whilst working. But everytime something comes up to prevent it. Whether it be a last minute location change, you both having to film in different spots, or your friends not being able to fly in. It was torture.
“You guys finally got it,” Jean announces, “The project starts next year. I’ll leave you both to…celebrate in your own ways,” she knowingly says, shaking her head as she slips out of the dressing room.
“It’s finally happening,” you grin the moment she’s gone, squeezing his elbow and yanking him closer.
“Fucking finally,” Scara sighs, letting himself begrudgingly be wrapped in a hug.
“You’re stuck with me.”
“Fuck you.”
“Those better not be your vows!” you chastise.
“What do you want me to say?” he hums, pressing himself against your back to lower his lips to your ear, “You are the bane of my existence, and the object of all my desires.”
“Now you’re just quoting one of your movie lines.”
“I meant it though.”
You bite your lip to fight the smile threatening to show itself on your face, a childlike bundle of glee in your stomach at his words.
“You want me so bad.”
“Shut up.”
“You mispronounced I love you.”
“It goes unsaid, you already know I do.”
.
.
.
୨⎯ THE END ⎯୧
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just playing the part !
masterlist — prev
synopsis: you and scaramouche are both drama majors and have been at each other’s throats vying for the same lead roles since high school. but when you’re both cast as each other’s love interest in your second year you’re forced to be civil with your academic rival and see him in a new light. are his feelings for you true or is he just playing the part?
author’s notes: hi! tysm to you all for reading and keeping up w this work, it means a lot to me that sm ppl enjoy smth i wrote on a whim :) and if ur rereading this or are a reader in the future ty to you too! i appreciate all the silent readers and everyone sending me asks/comments (even tho i cudnt reply to them all i loved reading them) i hope to see you all in my notifs in the future but if not i’m glad you gave my writing a chance <3 ily! have a great day/night mwah
taglist: @monochromaticelliot @kaedear @stxrgxzxr @shirmxie @elakari @lacy-lady @linn-a-a @one-offmind @kithewanderingme @quepasoash @leathernourishingshoepolish @mangobee @lxry-chxn @dameofthorns @kunihaver @kythe1a @elysiasbae @hikaru-exe @tokkishouse @raiihoshii @cherrybeomgyu @kunikuzushiit @thenightsflower @lilneps @goodthingimsam @lovelyiez @euhla @beriiov @abvolat @kittycasie @b0bafl0wer @bubblyclouds @atlatcaheart @artssleepy @baelloraa @tartagli-yuh @satowaluverr @hangesextra @scaranaris-lil-niko @caffinatedcoma @wheneverthesunrise @hajimeseyo @itsyourgirlria @hyunrei @redactedhimbo @caliginous-skies @vinskyspuff @miissfortune @criminalinthemaking @scaramouches-girlfriend @scrmgf [1/3]
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cloudshuffle · 3 months
Text
a new dawn. yan!childe
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You rise from a deep, dreamless slumber, tangled up in soft sheets and insistent hands. Ajax’s chest rises and falls gently, ginger lashes shut over his blue eyes, cradling you to him like his most precious treasure.
Asleep, he looks more like a boy in need of affection than a warrior.
The moon is still suspended in the sky, a silver balloon ready to burst. A glance at the clock tells you that you’ve only been asleep for about an hour. Enough time to sneak back into the cabin and pretend you've been there all night.
You begin to negotiate your way carefully out of his hold. With the alcohol no longer sparkling in your veins, you feel nothing but a vague sense of urgency to return to your cabin before anyone else sobers up and notices you’re gone.
It’s a declaration. It was exactly the sort of lovesick, foolish fairytale he’d fall for. And though you’d both enjoyed those once upon a time, one of you had to grow up. Had grown up.
A puff of air ruffles your hair, and you look up to meet his eyes, blinking slowly.
“Going somewhere?” he mutters sleepily, snuggling you closer.
You tense up so he doesn’t get too comfortable. “Yes, actually. I should be getting back before anyone notices I’m gone.”
His gaze roves around the room, as if he didn’t recognise where he was, followed by a lazy yawn. “I can sneak you off the ship. Stay here.”
You push against him and he releases you, more out of surprise than anything else. “Ajax. Be serious.”
“I am.” His puppy-dog eyes follow you as you get out of bed, collecting your discarded clothing and pulling it on. “Please?”
“No,” you reply, more sharply than you’d meant. Adjusting your outfit in the mirror, you just pray that no one can see the creases in the darkness. Or the torn stocking. Behind you, his expression is a little hurt, but it only fills you with a grim satisfaction. Good. Whatever it took to keep him at arm’s length. “Do you have a rag?”
He sighs, climbing out of bed to find one for you. You soak it with water, wiping down the parts he’d left more than just bruises on.
He accosts you on the way to the door, nuzzling a kiss right by your ear. “You’re so eager to get rid of me.” His sleep-warmed skin is littered with scars, you realise, slashes and stabs of all shapes and sizes, some pale with age and others fresher.
A pang of guilt. “Sorry,” you whisper, and then you’re gone.
────────────
Liyue Harbour dawns on the horizon, sprawling and golden in the morning sun. The roofs seem to glow, speaking of riches untold - but only if you knew where to look. Which was why the Tsaritsa was expanding her presence here, entrusting the task to her harbingers and soldiers.
High above, the Floating Palace looms like a sentry, guarding the city from celestial destruction. Your fellow soldiers gather at the side of the ship, watching in awe as Liyue draws closer in all its glory. Even your heart stirs at the sight.
Childe is nowhere to be seen, likely holed up in his cabin, doing last minute paperwork he hadn't had the chance to last night. 
Probably for the better. After… that, now there's a strange, ambiguous feeling in your relationship, one that had been carefully kept nonexistent during your time back in Snezhnaya. 
And like a wounded fox offered easy prey, you're not sure how he might strike out next.
There's a scramble of activity again as goods are unloaded, sailors prepare for docking, and you're all ushered off the ship like a flock of sheep rather than esteemed Fatui operatives. But finally you're on solid ground again, having arrived safely at the port of Liyue Harbour.
Nadia’s eyes are so wide you think they might roll out from her skull. You wonder what you all look like to the locals - foreign operatives here to butt into their business, dressed in heavy coats absolutely not suitable for the weather, looking around in awe like a group of schoolchildren. No wonder the Northland Bank was running into so many problems here.
Only once you’re sequestered safely within the walls of the Northland Bank do you begin to relax. Despite its golden walls and Liyue-esque decor, you’re relieved to see a Fatui mask at the front desk. She gives you all a tired once-over, then returns to her ledger.
You’ve been assigned to fieldwork - meaning tax collecting, outwardly, but also venturing out past the walls of Liyue Harbour and doing whatever Childe required of you. Knowing the Fatui, there was no such thing as simple tax collecting.
As you linger at the back of the group, following the Fatui senior on a brief tour of the bank, you think of what you’d seen in Childe’s cabin. Papers. Maps. Diagrams. Theories about… dragons in the water and adeptal magic? You couldn’t be very sure about what you’d seen.
You’re dismissed to your little offices to get settled in and start on some paperwork.
You shut the door, exhaling a sigh of relief. It’s a blessing to be alone with nothing but your thoughts. 
You head over to your window first, peering carefully outside. Your view overlooks a regular street, lined with other businesses, their employees stationed outside to entice customers in. You watch as a gentleman, his long brown hair tied back, strides meaningfully past. He glances up.
You duck back, holding your breath until he passes.
Enough excitement for today. You shake yourself and take a seat at your desk, thumbing through the various files and folders for you to handle. Most of them are about clients of the bank you need to keep an eye on, but they’re all normal, low profile civilians. You don’t think you’ll have a problem dealing with them.
At the bottom of the stack, substantially thicker than the rest, a folder waits for you. It’s bound in red string, full to bursting. You untie it gingerly and flip it open.
Papers spill out across your desk. Adepti, rituals, ancient ink on gold paper.
Talismans.
You feel like you’re holding your breath as you sift through the information. It seems as if the Fatui in Liyue had been doing extensive research on talismans infused with adepti magic - Sigils of Permission, more commonly known. Created by Rex Lapis and infused with adeptal power, these sigils were once used by mortals to channel divine power.
On the last page is a breathtaking hydra, rising from the waters of Liyue Harbour - no, created from the waters of Liyue itself, jaws fixed in a ferocious roar.
Oh, Ajax. What are you up to now?
────────────
“What’s that?”
You wiggle aside to make room for Ajax. There’s not much room on the windowsill, but it’s just perfect for two little children about to waste the afternoon away reading fairy tales.
“Mama and Papa got me a book of Liyue legends.”
He hooks an arm through yours so neither of you slide off your seat as you flip through the stories, reading them out loud so he can keep up.
Something thuds against your window, startling both of you from a particularly riveting passage where Rex Lapis, unable to defeat his primal foe, pins Osial to the ocean floor. 
“Ghost!” someone yells from outside. “Dead girl!”
A jarring chorus of laughs as the boys ready another round of snowballs.
“Go away!” Ajax yells back, making a rude gesture, to which he receives one in turn.
“Nikolai!” One of their mothers hurries past, gathering the children up in her skirts. “Come now. It’s time for dinner…”
Her fearful, fleeting glance isn’t lost on you, as have the looks from so many other adults. They say you’d been in the water for so long that even a grown man couldn’t have withstood it. That the cold had infected you, kept you alive to spread its clutches into your village. Some of the elders even make the symbol of warding off evil whenever you come by. 
It doesn’t hurt quite as much as it should have.
— word count: 1368. thank you for reading!
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lynzishell · 5 days
Text
The Past 💛 Atlas
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“So, what’s his name?” Dawn sneaks up behind me as I stand at the base of the climbing wall, apparently noticing I’ve been doing far more daydreaming than training.
“Who?” I look around, as if I don’t know exactly what she means. She raises her brows at me, waiting patiently for me to drop the act. We both know she’ll get it out of me eventually, so I smile and just tell her, “Asher.”
“Ahh, and who’s Asher?”
“A new artist at work, and a friend of Lex’s.”
“And?”
“And what? I just met him yesterday. He’s cute, that’s all.” I look up at the wall, preparing to start climbing away from her because I know exactly where this is going.
“Are you gonna ask him out?”
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And that’s my cue, “Nope,” I step away from her and start pressing the buttons on the machine, hoping she’ll take the hint that I’m done with the conversation, but knowing she won’t. I don’t know why we play these games, they always go the same way, like we can’t help ourselves.
As expected, she steps to the other side of the machine and presses the ‘Cancel’ button on the screen, earning her an annoyed look and an exaggerated sigh. “Why not?”
“How many reasons do you need before you’ll leave me alone?”
“Hm. Three.”
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“Three? Wow, okay, fine. One: I’ve known him for exactly thirty-six hours, so I don’t know if I even want to ask him out yet. Two: We work together, and that’s far too messy for me. Three: I don’t know. What’s wrong with just having a crush? As soon as I ask him out, everything gets complicated. Why can’t I just enjoy a little flirting and butterflies without you harassing me?”
“Aw, he gives you butterflies?”
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I look down, feeling the goofy smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. Of course that’s all she heard. Hopefully, it’s at least enough to satisfy her for now. I start pressing buttons on the machine again, “You know, we are supposed to be training. Shouldn’t you be climbing or something?”
“Nah, I beat Phoenix’s time tonight, I’m done.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works. We’re training for stamina, not speed.”
“Fine, I’m going. Happy for you, though. And your butterflies,” she giggles while poking me in the side. I give her a gentle nudge away and turn back to my machine, grateful to finally climb in peace.
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