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lo1k-diamonds · 7 months ago

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Be as it must 💜 Part 3

“Is there more to learn about you, Jungkook?”

PAIRING: Alpha!Jungkook x Omega(f)reader

SUMMARY: You try to resist the CEO's charms, but it's hard... At least until the other shoe drops.

WORD COUNT: 8.9 k

GENRE: ABO, strangers to lovers, fated lovers, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: tension and teasing, and angst

A.N. A huge thank you to @moonleeai for the beta read💜 This was never supposed to be so long, but I'm a fan of making the reader fall in love too... Before the bomb drops 💣 Enjoy 😉

You thought getting kidnapped would be the most bizarre experience you had ever been through, but it seemed like CEO Jeon Jungkook had other thoughts.

If it wasn’t weird that you entered his gigantic Seoul building while unconscious and tied up, it had to be that you exited escorted by the man himself, right into a car that you had only ever seen on television. You shrunk into the back seat, not only feeling weird with the surrounding spacious, immaculate leather, but with the fact that beyond the smoked glass, the CEO was telling something to the driver before he got inside the car.

You refused to look back to confirm whether the CEO had stayed put, watching you go; instead, you closed your eyes and heaved a deep sigh. It was outlandish that you wanted to turn around and see him there, as if you needed reassurance, when in truth, he was part of the problem.

You thought the weirdness would end there, which led you to look outside the window and see the tall buildings reflecting the city lights as the car moved. He was your boss, after all. If anything, he did need you to deal with the American consortium negotiations. And you trusted his word; he said you could leave once it was all said and done, so you weren’t a prisoner.

But you did not expect what he had planned for you.

“CEO Jeon has asked me to convey to you that he means to assure your comfort,” the man, Seung Ji-Young, said after introducing himself as the CEO’s driver and assistant, looking at you through the rearview mirror. You raised an eyebrow. “Given the circumstances, he has made arrangements to have a series of boutiques welcome you so you may relax and feel right at home.”

Your forehead creased as you took a glance at the time displayed on the dashboard, “At this hour?”

“Of course.”

You blinked, glancing again — 20:25. You shook your head, “Why would I need clothes? Unless—” You leaned forward, “What happened to my luggage?”

“We have it, rest assured.”

You couldn’t stop frowning at the weirdness of it all, “Right.”

“If there is somewhere else you’d like to go to relax, like a spa, it is not a problem. I’ve been instructed to drive you wherever you’d like.”

Your lips became an uneasy line, “No, I’m fine.”

The man nodded as he drove with a serious demeanor, “Then may I suggest a Michelin star—”

“No,” you interrupted swiftly, afraid that his offers would never stop. “Just— Just take me home— I mean, where I’m supposed to sleep.”

“Certainly.”

You groaned mutely and rubbed your eyes; now, even you were talking weirdly. But could anyone blame you after everything that had happened?

You stayed quiet as the car drove smoothly through narrower and narrower streets. Despite trusting what the CEO had said, you couldn’t help the uneasiness twisting your guts.

Finally, the car entered an underground garage and you were able to breathe. Mr Seung circled the car to get your small luggage from the back, including your handbag, and you bowed in relief, finding in it all your very important documents and belongings. It certainly comforted you enough to follow Mr Seung across the parking lot and into the elevator with a renewed sureness that you were not a prisoner.

“Would you like to go straight to your suite or take a look at the amenities first?”

His voice was as gentle as ever, and you tried to offer him a small smile, “Straight to bed would be best.” He pressed the keypad to select the 48th floor, and you frowned again, “Shouldn’t I check in first?”

“You mean with the concierge? No, he’s aware of your presence and available 24 hours in case you need anything.”

Your mouth opened, but you quickly closed it; maybe the CEO owned an apartment. That would justify why you weren’t at a hotel right now. You honestly didn’t care as long as you could put that day behind you.

The final straw took form in the quiet, gentle explanation of Mr Seung, “The amenities at your disposal include the residence lounge, gym, movie theater, swimming pool and spa. The latter includes a sauna, whirlpool, jet bath, and steam room at any hour, while the massages and skin and body treatments are available during the day. Of course, given the circumstances, a call can be made to arrange any treatment of your preference within the hour. Anything from a massage to a mud bath can be arranged; please don’t hesitate.”

You nodded respectfully while you screamed in your head — why was this happening? You just wanted your head to hit the pillows. The exhaustion taking over your mind was rendering you out of order, yet that ahjussi was so nice. Why was it all so hard?

“Ah, here we are,” he said as the elevator came to a stop gently with a sweet voice announcing the floor over the speakers.

You exited the elevator first, though you waited for Mr Seung to indicate to you which of the two doors was intended for you and to type the code in.

Once the door opened, you entered and braced yourself with eyes so wide they were twice the size. The stairs to your left indicated you were in a duplex penthouse, but it was the open concept of the space that floored you. Oak herringbone floors expanded into a panoramic view through floor-to-ceiling windows from one side of the building to the other. The soft touches of the white furniture and long couch in the living room extended into the dining room with a long glass table with an exorbitant vase of flowers that brought a heart stopping pop of color.

You blinked, befuddled, at the luxury surrounding you, and Mr Seung passed by you to indicate the next room, “There is the kitchen, should you need to arrange something, and a private terrace for your enjoyment as well.”

You glanced over the natural stone tops in shades of pure white matching the cabinets and circled the island to check what he was talking about. The view continued on that side of the building, leaving you speechless. From that high, the world looked small. It was as if that place was out of touch with reality.

“But perhaps you’d like to see the guest suite,” he smiled, and you just nodded.

You followed him back towards the staircase, ready to pick up your luggage, when he waved at a paper on the foyer table.

“CEO Jeon wanted you to know the password so you can make use of the apartment as you please. He’s also asked me to inform you that everything is at your disposal, including all snacks and beverages.”

You blinked, trying to keep up through the stupor, “How did he have time to fill up the pantry?”

You were wondering more to yourself, but Mr Seung chuckled, “We do it for him, of course. He particularly likes shrimp crackers, but I’m sure he won’t mind if you take some.”

You could only frown as though the information was odd. Mr Seung grabbed your luggage and started his way up the stairs, and you finally managed to say, “He lives here?”

“Of course, he owns the building.”

He didn’t stop, thus missing the way your grimace spelled a What?! with furrowed eyebrows, wide eyes and parted lips. You looked around you once more, taking in the crazy luxury surrounding you before hurrying up the stairs. You thought he had booked a hotel room for you, at most owned an empty apartment, and that was already in the realm of stupidly crazy rich. But what did he mean, the CEO lived here? Here, as in the building? Or here, as in—

Your breath caught as you reached the upper floor. The wall that faced the floor-to-ceiling window was entirely covered by a dark blue tapestry with glistening silver stars surrounding a central half-moon serving as the base of a vibrant orange tiger lily, shining brighter than any celestial bodies around it. You swallowed hard and looked at the master room across from where Mr Seung had disappeared with your luggage. Someone lived there, and you didn’t need more than the half-moon and dark blue colors to remember the Jeon Family emblem. Still, if that wasn’t enough, his scent reaching your nose told you everything you needed to know.

“Here you have it, the guest suite.”

Mr Seung was smiling as he opened the door to a walk-in closet, a small office, and then, across the room, to the ensuite bathroom. Meanwhile, a view as breathtaking as downstairs greeted you, and you continued to be flabbergasted.

“I thought he meant a hotel…” you whispered.

“CEO Jeon wanted to make sure of your comfort personally.”

You glanced at the man, and it was only because he seemed dead serious, almost concerned, that you didn’t throw your hands to the ceiling. Who cared about what the CEO wanted?! You were tired! And overwhelmed! And done with everything being blown out of proportion!

“But, of course, if you are dissatisfied, I can arrange for a five-star—”

“No, no, please,” you found yourself raising a hand and closing your eyes, begging him to stop. “I’ll stay, this is fine. No, perfect. It’s perfect, I’m perfectly happy.”

Mr Seung’s eyes instantly softened, as though you being pleased comforted him deeply. “I’m glad to hear it. I’m usually available to drive CEO Jeon at 6 AM, but should you require me to be available earlier, I’d be happy to assist you.”

You stared at the man, speechless. How was he so kind and sweet, and where did he come from?

“No, I— I can get to the office by mys—” You bit your tongue, then raked your hair back. What was the point, really? “I normally go to the office around eight thirty, so please don’t hurry because of me. I need to sleep. Badly.”

You huffed the last words, but Mr Seung stiffened as though he had been stung, “Of course, I won’t hold you any longer. Have a good night.”

He bowed deeply, making you rush to do the same before he left quietly. Your fingers gripped your hair roots as you looked around you — what the fuck? The incredible cityscape view, the suite that was probably your apartment size, the room across from yours where CEO Jeon slept… Everything was just surreal.

You woke up the next morning with a renewed vitality. Not because that was the best bed you had ever slept in, the biggest shower you had ever used, or the most delicious breakfast you had ever had, but because you had processed things. CEO Jeon Jungkook was an alpha of the Jeon Family who, through medieval means, had committed a crime based solely on your blood. Your rare designation did not excuse it, and as such, he was trying his best to accommodate you to prevent you from causing a scene, suing, exposing, or all of the above. There was a potential additional agenda that involved the traditional matching of an omega to an alpha, but you were in the XXI century. Alphas didn’t have to be with omegas, rare as they were, and you would not be coerced into engaging in such ancient customs. CEO Jeon would respect your wishes, and you believed his word.

He had even entered and left his own apartment without a word or a sound. You had slept like a rock — perhaps surprisingly, you felt safe there — but you had expected to see him at breakfast, at least. In the end, the only proof you had of his fleeting presence was the closed bedroom door and dirty coffee mug at the head of the dining table. You almost felt bad for potentially making him uncomfortable, but then remembered this was all his fault. Plus, he probably made Mr Seung drive him at 6 AM, which was also barbaric.

It brought a smile to your face to see Mr Seung’s happiness when you told him how you had rested well. You believed his care ran deeper than any CEO Jeon’s order, though you couldn’t help wondering if it was because he knew of your designation.

Fortunately, at the office, such things didn’t matter. As soon as you said your name to one of the secretaries on the last floor, she instantly provided you with your own office and badge, explaining how everything worked. You were used to sharing an office, but you had decided not to complain. Live and let live. If the CEO wanted to overbear you with such things, you’d accept them quietly. You just needed to do your job and leave.

Your laptop remained your own, so entering the workflow was seamless. You were pleased to find all the information about the rescheduled meetings, and emails about other projects you were working on. You even made sure to check in and reassure Yoon Minsik, your mentor, before attending the first in-person meeting with the legal team of that office.

Although you had only met most of them online, it was a cordial and nice moment before starting what you hoped would be a fruitful meeting. But then CEO Jeon arrived.

Before, you were just a member of the team, participating in meetings you’d otherwise attend online. After he entered the room, however, you were an omega in the presence of an alpha who easily disrupted the flow of the conversation.

You didn’t believe he did it on purpose, in his defense. You could smell humans amongst the team, and even they were affected by the CEO’s presence. What you’d like to say is that you, contrary to them, were not impacted in any way, but that was not the case.

You had to clear your voice as you spoke and actively force yourself to pretend he wasn’t there. Inwardly, you kept reassuring yourself that it was just that department meeting to coordinate ongoing projects. He wasn’t usually there, but maybe he had made an exception this time.

Only CEO Jeon was present in every meeting.

It was exhausting to focus on each different project and give your best while trying to ignore him. Not that he spoke a lot, but when he did, it threw your attention completely off. He looked so fine. That black designer suit framed his large shoulders deliciously, making every move as evident as possible. Making you imagine what it would be like to be caged in by said arms, embracing you as if—

“Hey!”

You blinked and looked away as everyone got up from their chairs. You should have noticed the meeting ended and that the CEO had been forced to leave, called by that woman, his secretary — Sunhwa.

You faced one of your colleagues, who was smiling expectantly, “Should we have lunch together?”

It was easy to accede and join her and the team, but your thoughts remained on Sunhwa. She wasn’t present in the meetings, but you had noticed her easily because every single time you had to move between meeting rooms — and the CEO did the same — she showed up to talk to him, pass him a file, or just accompany him. To the point you wondered if he needed a bodyguard and heard whispers of other people potentially commenting the same. You couldn’t help feeling bad for her; you couldn’t decide if she was jealous of you, with all the stink eyes she threw your way at every chance, or overzealous.

Regardless, you thought it didn’t matter because, in the afternoon, things would be different. Those meetings would be all about the American consortium negotiations, both internal and external, and you ran those without the presence of the CEO.

You had to huff quietly as he pulled the chair next to you, oddly sharing with you the head of that meeting room table. Except for a glance and polite smile, you didn’t give him any more of your attention. It was unsettling enough if your boss would accompany you to every meeting as if to assess your worth, but the fact that he was so close, with big brown eyes trained on you while his scent made your head spin… It made it a thousand times harder.

Still, you braved through the meeting, expecting things to go well because that was your element. What you didn’t count on were his interruptions.

“I’m certain we don’t need to renegotiate the time window; they will surely accept it.”

“Have we established concrete rules for the use of prototypes?”

“What about intellectual rights? As the manufacturer, shouldn’t we obtain the rights to all procedures that we optimize during development?”

Your expression softened, “According to agreement stipulations, by signing, we commit to safely keep their intellectual property, which includes all manufacturing processes. If these are optimized, they will be added to the patent. We will, of course, negotiate appropriate compensation should that happen, including access to prototypes and benefits should the production cost or time be reduced.”

The room was quiet after you spoke, but you had forgotten about them. Instead, your eyes were fixed on the CEO’s. Very round and very big, almost sparkling at you, entirely taken by what you had said. His gaze was curious, intense and interested, so you couldn’t be mad about his disruptions.

Still, you sighed. He was distracting.

“Let’s proceed to the financial section,” you asked, waving at the appropriate head of the department to speak up.

The CEO tapped his tablet to jump to the appropriate page of the document, clearing his throat, and you subtly leaned to whisper into his ear, “Focus.”

Your eyes met when you pulled back, and it was like the record changed. If his questions seemed chaotic and somewhat disconnected before, now they were spot on. From one meeting to the other, including with the American company representatives, every comment was precise, demonstrating flawlessly why the Jeon conglomerate was unavoidable in the South Korean industry.

You were secretly impressed, though you expected nothing less. Perhaps the way you had managed to work together so seamlessly in front of the American company representatives was surprising, but you imagined that a pro like him could make it work with anyone. He wasn’t nicknamed good at everything for nothing.

You assumed he was pleased, too, when the video call ended, and he leaned back into his chair, laughing quietly. His glee made you smile as you gathered your things and closed your laptop, observing everyone else in the room calling it a day while you wondered if Mr Seung would take you home. It was silly of you, but with everything that happened, you didn’t even memorize the address—

“That was so smooth. I think we floored them,” he grinned, getting up to his feet as though he was even more energized than before.

You chuckled and nodded, putting your laptop in your bag. Maybe that was so, but you were ready to go home.

“Have dinner with me.”

You stopped shy of closing the bag and looked at him instantly, batting your eyelashes with all your befuddlement.

“We have to celebrate,” he continued, and his grin reemerged as though he couldn’t contain it.

“They haven’t signed it yet,” you were quiet, instinctively reasoning with him despite not even being able to fully think right now.

He chuckled, “But they will, no doubt. I’m sure we will have a response by tomorrow and a verbal agreement shortly after.”

You nodded and looked down, unable to stop the way your body reacted. He was taller than you, broad, all-encompassing, and smelled strong, sweet...dizzying. There were two sides to that moment: who he was — so destabilizing, you thought there was no avoiding it — and what he was saying — so professional, when you wanted to forget all about it.

Fortunately, in your hazed mind, the latter won. “We’ll wrap up sooner, and I’ll get to return to Busan faster, then.”

Your entranced eyes captured the way his jaw hardened easily. His eyes sparked differently, with a look to them that caused a tingle to go down your spine, but he nodded, “Indeed. So dinner tonight.”

His tone implied you were just giving him more reasons to insist, and the corners of your lips twitched mischievously. Maybe you were; it was hard to resist.

“CEO Jeon?”

You stiffened like you had just been caught stealing candy and didn’t bother to look. You forced the zipper closed and grabbed your bag, purposefully pushing what Sunhwa was telling the CEO to fade with the background noise. Whatever it was, maybe it was a good thing — you needed distance to think, too.

You bowed to both on your way out and didn’t mean to spare a glance, but his voice beckoned you to look back, “Mr Seung is in the parking lot, please go with him.”

You nodded, meaning to appease the worry in his voice and eyes, and melted when you succeeded. His features instantly returned to a confident, dazzling smile before turning to Sunhwa about whatever work-related issue she was referring to, and you had to swallow. You shouldn’t be so attuned to how he felt; it didn’t make any sense. Still, as you made your way to his apartment with his driver, all you could think was that you never officially accepted his invitation.

Jungkook nodded after Mr Seung confirmed that he had dropped you off safely at the apartment, where you had stayed for the last three hours. You hadn’t requested to go anywhere in particular, and arrangements had been made for dinner, so he could relax.

He sighed as he closed his eyes and let the purr of the car lull him. He knew it would be an interesting day, but not even his wildest dreams could have prepared him for it.

First, arriving home the night before to the faint trace of your sweet jasmine scent absolutely threw him off. The whole night he had to keep himself in check; no, he couldn’t follow your delicate perfume to your bed, touch you, or claim you. You probably didn’t trust him after the way you ended up there, and he wasn’t a creep. He could reign in his primal urge and leave the decision up to you. He could show you that being next to him was fate, as intrinsically inescapable as the Earth and Moon orbiting each other. You’d realize that soon enough and ask him to touch you instead.

He could barely sleep, so his second move was to leave the apartment as soon as humanly possible. He needed to review everything about the projects you were working on, plus get his work out of the way so he could attend every meeting of yours and watch you in your element.

Jungkook was frankly impressed; you were like a fish in water, navigating every topic and hurdle effortlessly. He wasn’t sure you noticed how everyone quieted down to listen to you and obliged and interacted every time you requested it, but it was a wonder to see. If he hadn’t smelled your designation, he would have wondered what kind of woman conducted such ease and readiness.

Unfortunately, you were also incredibly distracting. Not only was he probably not of use to you in your work, but he was also falling behind in the slightest with his duties. Sunhwa kept reminding him, of course, and he appreciated it, but he couldn’t bring himself to worry about anything else.

Which made him wonder if you’d be a liability and not an asset if you stayed. However, that was a fleeting thought because as soon as it emerged, it evaporated when you whispered into his ear, “Focus.”

The whiff of your scent hit him so hard he had to close his eyes so no one would see them rolling back. Then he faced you, and your gaze did something to him. It was strong and encouraging, and he was set. Suddenly, he could focus. His mind was clear and everything just worked.

It was incredible, inebriating; better than hitting the jackpot, it was like you were his focus token that increased his abilities by two hundred percent. So inviting you to dinner was as easy as breathing. You mentioning Busan again almost ruined his mood, but then you obliged with big, starry eyes when he asked you to drive with Mr Seung in the exact spot he was in now, going home to you, and he couldn’t help the widest grin. He hadn’t lost you, not yet.

He knew it was late, and he wouldn’t dream of keeping you starving while waiting for him. Your shoes and handbag were by the entrance, so he knew you were inside. There was noise from the kitchen, though that couldn’t be you, so he jumped on the couch and heaved a deep breath, closing his eyes. He loved the sweet scent that lingered around the house because of you; it instantly relaxed him but also gave him a push. Maybe he should check on you—

He heard steps down the stairs at the same time his personal chef exited the kitchen to inform him dinner was ready and on the table.

“Would you like me to stay and serve?”

Jungkook dismissed the chef swiftly and quietly, acknowledging their head bow just in time to turn to you. His hand was on the noose of his tie, instantly loosening it as his mouth watered. He was starving, but it wasn’t food on his mind as he ate up the view.

You were wearing something quite professional — black dress pants with a silk blouse that was a hint of blue. He would have thought you too formal if it weren’t for your bare feet stepping quietly on the wood floor, along with your still-humid hair falling in waves over your shoulders and chest. But like this, he could only smile at you entering the living room and imagine you jumping into his arms to welcome him home after a long day. Then, what you wore wouldn’t matter, not because he’d be free to undress you, but because with your touch, everything would feel whole.

You bowed politely to the chef, watching them go, and it gave Jungkook a moment of clarity: what he felt was beyond simple interest. It wasn’t fascination or attraction, it was everything combined. He didn’t think it was possible; a skeptical part of him still insisted it wasn’t.

But then you opened your mouth and changed the very axis upon which his world spun. “Good evening.”

He could only smirk; the simplest words could escape your lips, and he’d drink them like they were gospel, “Good evening.”

Your astute eyes observed him, and it was like lying down at the beach under the warm sunlight, “Was there a problem at the office?”

He tilted his head, “I needed to finish up some things. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

Your lips twitched as you nodded, “It’s not a problem. In fact, I realized I never accepted your invitation, so I wasn’t sure if it still stood.”

He smirked, “It does, and it looks like you accepted.”

His arms stretched over the back of the couch, and you had to consciously keep your feet from taking you to him. It wasn’t an invitation, no matter how inviting it seemed.

“I thought it was wise to be ready,” you informed, taking a few steps to the side, unable to stay still.

“To have dinner with me?”

“To celebrate,” you corrected, trying to resist his smirk by keeping your expression as neutral as possible.

“By yourself?”

His eyebrow quirked, daring, and you finally smiled, “I was told there is a residence lounge. Thought I could get a drink there, and who knows who could join me.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, and he laughed openly, “You’re right.” He got up, loosening his tie completely and throwing it on the couch. It was enough to tense your back, dissipating your smile as you observed him taking off his suit coat and leaving it next to the tie. “I should have started by offering a drink. Is wine okay?”

Blood spread to your cheeks, but he didn’t notice as he turned around to enter the dining room. It gave you a moment to breathe. “If it’s red. Otherwise, I’m afraid I’ll have to leave.”

His laughter was music to your ears as you followed him, only to confirm that the person leaving was wearing a white chef coat for good reason. The glass dining table was set for two, at the head and the place to its right, and in between, an assortment of dishes released a delicious warm scent. From meat to shrimp, noodles to rice, boiled, fermented or fried, it seemed the chef had decided to leave you with a big variety just so you could have anything you possibly wanted.

Your eyes turned to him, his back facing you as he got a red wine bottle from the wine cooler. “This is incredible,” you voiced, unafraid of sounding too easily impressed. That table with the panoramic view and the incredible lighting showing his gleeful smile would easily shake anyone.

“I’m happy you like it.”

“Do you always have dinner like this?”

He placed the bottle on the table, twisting the corkscrew to get it open, “No, not at all. I asked for something special tonight.”

You heard the pop of the cork coming off, but that wasn’t why your heart skipped a beat. He reached for a wine glass on the table, poured a line of wine, then swirled it and took a soft sniff, smiling ecstatically after.

He raised the glass to you, and you stepped forward to accept it, entranced. You took a whiff, too, and the sweet, dark fruit aromas made your eyelashes flutter. You detected the blackberries and plums, and surely a trace of cloves.

Your reaction was enough for him to nod and pour a glass for himself. His shifting attention allowed you to swallow and ask, “Was this what you had in mind?”

He smirked, then turned to you, and your heart flipped again. He had shortened the distance between you and cupped your hand around the glass to tilt it forward towards his chest. The wine glugs, filling your glass, were but an afterthought as you looked at him, his eyes so close you could see stars.

“Absolutely,” he said quietly, yet you heard him so clearly. His expression was likely as serious as yours, mirroring the same tension as he took the bottle away. “This was exactly what I had in mind.”

The sound of the bottle being placed on the table didn’t rattle you; nothing was louder than your racing heart. His hand left yours, and although you could see the reluctance, you bit your inner lip to stay quiet. Being that close didn’t mean just having your breath stolen by his sparkly eyes or unique beauty marks; it also meant seeing how red his eyes were.

“I see… but if you're too tired, we can take a rain check.”

You were certain your worry was easily heard in your voice, yet he shook his head with a returning wide smile and raised his glass between you, “Not a chance.”

Your lips twitched, but you nodded and raised your glass to clink his, bringing it to your lips as he did the same. The velvety taste matched its aroma perfectly, but you weren’t paying attention. His eyes were locked with yours as though that tension was unbreakable, and you realized you didn’t know what you were celebrating. He didn’t specify the toast, and somehow, you knew work had stayed in the office tonight.

When you put the glass down, you weren’t sure you were dizzy with the alcohol or the moment, but your cheeks were hot. You ignored it, just to keep staring into the stars in his eyes, when a stomach growl cut the silence.

You looked down at his stomach, covered by a black button shirt, then up, “Woah, that was powerful.”

He smirked and rubbed the back of his head, “Sorry, I’m starving. Let’s dig in.” He waved at you to sit by his side, “Please, go ahead. Take anything you’d like.”

He held back, even as you took your time to observe the table and take your pick. He adjusted himself on the chair, but it was surprisingly easy to let you start first. It was just right.

“I wanted to have samgyeopsal,” he confessed, smiling sheepishly. “But we’d have to go to a real barbecue for that and—”

Your eyes widened with a spark, a small gasp jerking your shoulders as you reached for a bowl, “Not a problem.”

He raised an eyebrow at your sudden interest, then chuckled, “Do you like japchae that much?”

“My absolute favorite,” you nodded, filling your plate with utmost focus.

“Alright, I’ll make it for you a lot.”

You had started eating but stopped stuffing your face with the delicious noodles, raising your eyebrows at him instead while he served himself. “You can cook?”

He chuckled, “I love cooking. I’d be showing off my skills right now, but I’m more interested in talking to you.” The butterflies in your stomach twirled around as you stared up at him. He only chuckled, “But now I know. Let’s see, what else? What about makguksu? I have an awesome recipe as well.”

It was easy to eat while you discussed food, especially if it was a chance to quiz him and confirm he knew what he was talking about. He did, and you overlooked his initial promise to cook for you in exchange for a normal, healthy culinary debate.

But neither of you wanted to eat or talk about food all night. He ate a lot, you noticed, and by the end, every dish was done. The red bottle was empty too, so it was the perfect moment to get up.

“I’ll grab another one,” he said, waving at the couch while he headed to the wine cooler. It could have been your chance to say goodnight, but you didn’t want to. “Why do you only drink red?” He asked loudly, and you turned to look over your shoulder at him. “Can't it be Lambrusco?”

You chuckled and sat on the couch, “Lambrusco is a red, and it's delicious. Bring it on!”

The sound of the bottle being dragged out of the cooler, placed on the glass dining table, and popped open made your skin tingle pleasurably. It could be his proximity messing with your nerves, or the alcohol. A cautious part of you thought it was best to call it a night, but the bottle was already open, and he was already extending a new glass to you.

You clinked glasses in silence again once he sat down, and this time, you didn’t bother wondering about the occasion.

“Why not white?”

He mused after the sweetness made him click his tongue, and you sighed with a second sip, “Too acidic for me.”

“Noted,” he nodded, his features serious. “I'll get rid of all whites to make space for more Lambrusco.”

You laughed, “Why would you refine your stock based on my taste?”

He laughed with you, then bit his lip. You smiled as you took another sip, and you looked so happy, simply enjoying yourself, that his priorities shifted. “I like learning more about you.”

“You do?”

You sounded surprised, but he didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“Well, I haven't learned as much about you,” you scrunched your nose, choosing to take things lightly, and he chuckled.

“I'm sure you already know a lot.”

You tried not to scoff, “I don’t. You think because you’re the CEO, I would know your taste in wine?” Your tone only made him laugh more, leaning back into a pillow that had his abandoned suit coat before he faced you again. “Do you even like reds?”

“Oh yeah, but I prefer beer. Oh, and whiskey.”

“So we know our next drink…”

You hid behind the glass and he smirked, “Good idea. I'll make my specialty cocktail. Only close friends know about it, so know you'll taste something exclusive.”

“Really? I’m flattered; who knew I’d get to know the CEO so well.”

The corner of your mouth raised with mischief as you emptied your glass, and instantly, he was refilling it with a slightly raised eyebrow, “You can call me Jungkook.”

His dark eyes, as he instructed you, released a current down your spine that spread warmth in every direction. There was no way that calling your boss by his first name was a good idea, but you had stopped playing it safe a few glasses ago.

“Is there more to learn about you, Jungkook?” His name on your tongue drew his eyes to your mouth, conveniently about to take another sip. You reveled in the sweetness and tension of that moment, hopefully as much as him. “Something no one else knows.”

His teeth bit into his lower lip to stop a grin, and he nodded, “Certainly.” He placed the glass down on the coffee table and you swallowed. “There’s a lot to find out.”

He unfastened his cuff links, casually folding and pulling the sleeves of his black button shirt to his elbow, and you gasped.

You leaned forward with your free hand, “You have a sleeve?”

He grinned slyly, extending his right arm for you to touch more easily, “I do.”

He was quiet while you explored every tattoo line, from the clock to the letters, stopping to wonder at the tiger lily in bright tones of orange. “Incredible,” you muttered, dragging your finger easily. You were so focused that you missed the goosebumps forming under your touch. He let you turn his arm and even pull the sleeve a bit further up, where you noticed more lines and figures ready to show. You were so insistent you pouted when the fabric got so tight around his bicep it refused to rake further up to his shoulder.

His chuckle drew your attention, “I can take it off if you’d like to see the rest.”

Your hands withdrew instantly, fingers rubbing on each other needily. Your eyes caught the absence of any other article of clothing underneath his shirt, and you swallowed down your heated longing. “No, I— Of course not.”

You didn’t bother saying it was inappropriate; you fell back on your side of the couch. Your throat seemed to have blocked, so you cleared it. There was a line you shouldn’t cross, but you also didn’t want to stop whatever you two were doing.

“I don’t have tattoos,” you started, pulling your blouse sleeve. “But I do have this birthmark.”

His eyes followed your fingers, then he grabbed your arm delicately to trace it with his fingers. Your forearm erupted in goosebumps, electrified by his caress, attention, and warmth. It was almost overwhelming, and you had to swallow thickly to keep silent.

“It looks like a butterfly,” he mused, concentrating, and you nodded.

“My mother calls me that.”

He whispered something under his breath, then shifted in his seat, “Look.”

He brought his forearm next to yours, and you realized what he meant: your birthmark was parallel to his tiger lily. Superposed, your butterfly would find its home in him. It made you shudder from head to toe.

“What ties you to Busan?” His question broke the spell despite his caresses to your arm. You frowned, trying to catch his line of thought. “Friends? Family?”

The Lambrusco swirled a little inside his glass, revealing a short tremble, and your eyes stayed low on his lily, “My mother, mostly. She doesn’t live in Busan, but in a village not too far away.”

Your apprehension was palpable, so you weren’t surprised when he brushed the back of his fingers in a feather-like touch on your forearm, “I understand if it’s too personal, you don’t have to tell me anything that will make you uncomfortable.”

Whether because of his soft touch or warm eyes, you instantly shook your head, “Not uncomfortable, just… I don’t really talk about her. Or my family. She doesn’t like it and—”

Your brow furrowed, and he was ready to reassure you, but you decided to say it.

“And nobody would understand, but maybe you would,” you pushed out, looking into his eyes. Your mom would chastise you for this decision, but it was yours nonetheless. You just felt so alone in all this. “Our family made sacrifices to be eradicated from the registry, and for generations, we’ve been hiding so we wouldn’t be detected.”

He nodded gravely, lowering his eyes to his fingers still touching your milky skin.

“You’re probably the last person I should tell this to,” you chuckled. “But even though times should be different, I was never certain where to draw the line between potential paranoia and it just being like she described. Unfortunately, recent events have made me conclude she was not wrong in wanting us to be cautious.”

“Wait, there’s—” He pressed his lips before he sorted his words, looking at you intently, “There’s something to be said about your mother’s fears and the outdated methods the Family uses to search for omegas. They should know it’s criminal, but it’s how my grandfather found my grandmother, so I suppose that’s why they insist on it.”

“He kidnapped her too?”

“No—” He almost choked. “Hunters found her and brought her to him. They were mates and inseparable.”

“You met her?”

Your tone was almost anxious, and he smiled with a nod, “The only omega I’ve ever met other than you.” His expression showed fondness, “Grandpa was crazy about her and everyone loved her. She had this… aura to her. I was instantly calm. I was… a bit of a reckless and loud kid, but she never got angry at me. She would just put me on her lap and ask me what happened, and soon after, she was tickling me while I told her all about my adventures.”

You leaned on your side into the couch back, “Adventures, huh?”

It wasn’t hard to imagine, especially when he smirked mischievously, “My knees wouldn't have gotten bruised if I hadn't chased a pirate up a tree.”

“A pirate?”

Your eyebrows jumped, and you both laughed quietly. You were glad to be at ease, folding a leg under you.

“What an exciting childhood you had.”

“What about yours?”

You pursed your lips, “It was just me and my mother. My dad died in a car accident when I was a kid, and my grandma had dementia and died not too long after.”

His eyes softened, “That must have been hard.”

“It was the most on my mom.”

“How old were you?”

“Thirteen.”

“It must have affected you,” his voice quieted, and you noticed his thumb never stopped brushing your pulse point, soothing you for a while now.

“I grew up fast,” you shrugged, casually letting his touch continue. “It was hard because my mother was paranoid about us being caught, but I was raised around humans, unsure if her stories were true and if I should really just… stay hidden in that village or do something with myself.” He nodded, and you admitted, “That’s why hearing from others that my fate isn’t to be used as a tool, abused, or anything like that is…”

“No,” he pressed his thumb to your wrist, and it seemed to you it was to placate his own anxiety this time. “I promise you, that is not— I would never do that.”

His voice was firm, but something in your eyes must have given you away. You didn’t want to believe he was lying, but it wasn’t in his best interest to tell you the truth.

“My grandma always said a mate’s love was the foundation of our family and that I shouldn’t give up, even if my father never found her.” His eyes lowered once more to your arm before he faced you, “I grew up with them, seeing what a mate’s bond looks like. I would never hurt an omega, even if she wasn’t my mate.”

“But there are those who would.”

“Maybe once upon a time, but I swear things are different now. It was their mistreatment that led to their extinction. Well, alleged,” he corrected, eying you meaningfully. “The Families had to turn to betas, which was seen mostly as a catastrophe a couple of generations back.”

“Why?”

“It affected the strength of their blood, lines started dying and alpha numbers dwindled too. The egoistical views and attitudes of a few generations almost cost us everything.”

“So shouldn’t the way omegas were treated be the real catastrophe?”

Your tone was rough around the edges, but his eyes remained soft, “Worse than a catastrophe, an atrocity. It hurt so many for so many generations.”

His tone was apologetic as he looked at you, but it didn’t soothe you. Not even his touch on your wrist did. “If you recognize the problem, then you should be the first one to set an example. You acknowledge it was an atrocity, but you still send hunters to kidnap omegas instead of searching for yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

He actually looked lost, so you clarified, “If you don’t want to give up like your grandmother suggested, then maybe you should go down to Busan and search for yourself. Meet people.”

His eyebrows jumped, then he shook his head with an embarrassed smile, “I… never considered it.”

“Imagine if you had.”

Your chest warmed with his gaze on yours. You didn’t know why you were admonishing him for not visiting sooner, borderline implying you would have met differently, just like his grandmother had hoped. The past couldn’t be changed, and nothing would happen regardless.

You cleared your throat, “Anyway, it's annoying that your secretary keeps calling me fake.”

He huffed, letting his head fall on the back of the couch as though it tired him too.

“I never wanted to be recognized or seen as just my designation, but it is who I am, so she's pissing me off.”

You sneered at the ridiculousness of the situation, and he nodded, “It's because she never met anyone like you… I don't think she's able to really smell it. She's not as sensitive as us. But you don't have to worry about her. I'll handle things with her.”

You took the glass to your mouth, musing over it quietly. “Well, she works for you… and I won't stay long anyway.”

He was drinking when you spoke, his jaw becoming the slightest bit sharper under the light. His thumb still rubbed your pulse point soothingly.

“Actually… I have a question if you don’t mind.”

You pressed your lips sheepishly, and he almost choked in his hurry to nod.

“What do I smell like?” Your eyebrows framed your curious, big eyes, and his lips parted in wonder. “I've asked my mom, but she only tells me I'm sweet. I've never met anyone else I could ask.”

He blinked away his shock, straightening instantly to lean in a bit closer to you. Not that he needed to; effectively, he could pinpoint every trace and note of your unique aroma. But when you let your head fall back the slightest to expose your neck, he couldn’t be stopped. It was the sweetest invitation, baring your neck to him so he could take you in up close and personal.

He almost growled, something so deep inside him stirring he had to grip the glass and keep himself from grabbing your wrist or pressing his face into the crook of your neck. He was certain you’d taste and feel as endlessly delicate as your scent, but he knew the limits. Even if he thought of you as his, it had to come from you. If anything came out of getting to know you, it was that waiting was the only option he had if he ever wanted to welcome his mate by his side.

So he groaned silently and pulled back; he might not have met you in the right circumstances, but he wasn’t about to fuck this up.

“She’s right, you smell sweet,” he rasped, looking into your beautiful eyes again, so close he could see the black dots hiding among the lights. “Like jasmines — sweet, deep, and fond. And me?” He saw you swallow, but he couldn’t resist, “What do I smell like?”

“I’m sure you know,” you tried, though you didn’t move.

He shook his head, “What do I smell like to you?”

You looked down at his neck with a hint of uneasiness, but his soothing touch calmed you enough to go forward. You leaned into the crook of his neck, so close you felt his body warmth emanating. One deep breath, though, and you almost whimpered. Your free hand gripped his arm as your whole body warmed and thrummed with the heady scent.

“Strong,” you whispered, noticing a moment later his neck was covered in goosebumps. “Earthy.” You couldn’t resist nuzzling his skin the slightest, raising it up his neck until you met his jaw. “Spicy, something so alluring I just…”

You nuzzled his cheek and he turned to face you, with lips so close to yours, his warm breath lulled your eyes closed. You were certain his lips would touch yours, releasing all that tension into a burst that would raze your senses.

But the sounds of a keypad being pressed made you instinctively pull back, and you were happy you did because in mere seconds it was as though the rug was being pulled from under your feet.

The front door burst open, and you jumped to your feet, frightened. Jungkook stood up, too, trying to regain the touch that had been severed in the motion, but it was too late. You both had to face the woman storming inside the apartment, with eyes so wide, and nostrils so wide in fury, it confused you more than anything.

“What the hell?!”

Sunhwa’s outrage wasn’t missed on you, but all you could do was frown, stupefied.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook’s tone was cold, and you weren’t certain if that was the right reaction. Shouldn’t he be pissed that his secretary just stormed into his apartment late at night?

“What am I doing? What are you doing?!”

His eyes hardened as though her question didn’t merit a reply, and she threw the folders in her hand on the coffee table.

“I wanted to update you on the ASICS deal and thought you probably wouldn’t have eaten yet, so I called Chef Jae, and they told me they had prepared the special dinner you asked for!”

You glanced at him, even more confused than before, and his reply came quiet, “You should know better than to just barge in here.”

“You weren’t picking up the phone!”

Her screeches were starting to give you a headache, “Alright, listen. It’s past eleven in the evening, surely there’s nothing that can justify causing a scene like this.”

Her laugh was a shriek, “You have some gall to tell me I can’t cause a scene, huh?! First, you try to seduce him by falsely claiming to be an omega—”

“I am!”

“— and now you’ve invited yourself into his apartment! Do you really have no shame? I won’t stand for this!”

Your eyebrows jumped in pure disbelief, “And who are you to care what an adult man does in his apartment?”

She stomped her foot, fuming as she glared, “I’m his fiancé!”

Your stomach dropped, spreading such coldness through your guts, you froze.

In years of law, despite dealing with senseless clients at times, you had never lost your composure or words, but today was the day. Her words, that scene, and the deceit underlying that whole night gutted you, so you were speechless.

“You don't know what you're saying.”

His tone was firm, but one glance told you he was seething. Your first instinct was to resent him; he should be apologizing, not angry that his fiancé ruined the ruse.

Sunhwa crossed her arms with a laugh, “Oh, so I'm suddenly not?”

“We have a contract.”

“Precisely!”

Her clapback was triumphant, and you stiffened even further.

“This is not what you think,” he said, having turned to you.

You looked at him slowly, but Sunhwa was already stepping closer between you, “This is exactly what you think! He's promised to me! How dare you come in here and try to seduce him with your false claims and—!”

“Enough!”

His roar effectively silenced her, making even the glass in your hand reverberate. It forced you to look away and realize you had no business standing there.

You put the glass on the coffee table, “I see you have things to discuss, so I'll leave you to it.”

You ignored the smothering silence surrounding you and headed up the stairs.

That silence was dearly missed when the last concrete thing you heard was Sunhwa freaking out, “She's sleeping here?!”

You closed the bedroom door and weighed your options, but then ended up locking the door and hiding with your face into your pillow. You had drunk too much, and it was too late to wander off in the middle of Seoul. For now, you’d just have to stay.

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livefastdriveyoung · 9 months ago

Text

In this era of social media, mental health consciousness, and open dialogue, the sheer magnitude of the way Logan’s story in F1 came to an end is diabolical.

It should not have happened.

But it did.

And it ends in the fact that there was no push back from those in the sport until after he was gone.

It took Logan being kicked out of the seat with nine races left for two fellow drivers to speak positively about him, for reporters to say hey he’s alone and has no support system maybe that is a problem.

That's where we're up to, where it ends.

Before this, we had Croft and Karun spending half of their dialogue talking about how much they don’t like him, how bad he is. Week after week. And yeah. He’s not the best by any means but it was nonstop.

Alongside that we have this constant dialogue from the higher ups at Williams that “Logan must do better, he is not where we need him, the mechanics are furious, they cheered for 45 seconds straight when we announced Carlos.”

Alongside that, There was a two sentence statement both times he got dropped. AFTER HIS REPLACEMENTS WERE ANNOUNCED.

Before that we have the team principal boot him from his car in the third race of the season for points they never scored.

And the abuse continued. Tumblr is pretty supportive of Logan, but if you spend time on Twitter or Instagram, it was abusive, how mean people were.

Are.

When the rumors came out about James not talking to Logan, not giving him feedback, the statement was the first time we saw him mention anything related to his team principal.

Funny how we were all flabbergasted but it was somehow believable.

There have been signs that Logan was fading from Williams, that the sport was punishing him, since his first season. No birthday post for Logan, two posts for his contract renewal, one post about Lap of Legends featuring him only to be immediately dwarfed by Alex’s renewal.

Nothing about Logan’s improvements or teamwork, strictly what he did wrong.

Nothing Williams did has led me to believe they ever liked him.

And then the revelation that James had been trying to sign Carlos since before he signed Logan.

He would have had to be negotiating both contracts at the same time.

The same time.

Even when James had no replacements in mind according to the press, he was having hotel room meetings with another driver.

Because Logan was never the first choice. Not even the second. His selection was an act of desperation. His renewal was because of the sponsors and lack of options.

It must have been miserable.

And still, he speaks no ill. We know from many drivers about how they feel about their former teams. But he’s not going to say anything. I hope he winds up somewhere that respects him as a person, because it feels like Williams didn’t even do that.

Because that is where it comes down to.

Where is the human decency? When did it become acceptable to put someone in the line of fire and leave them there?

He may not have been what Williams was looking for, but Logan Brought a lot of people to this sport, and for that, they owe him more than they could ever repay him.

#f1 #logan sargeant #williams racing #james vowles #formula 1 #the Logan essay #not my best work #but it makes me angry every time I think about it

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redroomreflections · 1 year ago

Text

II HANDS II HEAVEN 4

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff and Reader reluctantly team up for a couples retreat mission. Despite initial resistance, they find themselves drawn together by unexpected circumstances and shared experiences.

W/c:4k

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Hour 15 - Welcome to Jacksonville

“So live your life (eh-eh-eh)

You steady chasin' that paper

Just live your life (oh, eh-eh-eh)”

“Ain’t got no time for no haters,” You sang the lyrics to the TI and Rihanna song, as you eased the car into a parking spot with precision. Your voice filled the car's interior as you continued to hum to the music. With one hand casually resting on Natasha's passenger headrest, you backed into the first available spot.

Natasha seemed none the wiser as she slept peacefully beside you. She had learned to tune you out three hours ago. She stirred beside you, her peaceful slumber interrupted by the cutting of the car's engine. Blinking groggily, she glanced around the unfamiliar surroundings of the parking lot.

"Why are we stopping?" Her voice held a trace of confusion as she sat up, her gaze flitting around. "Where are we? Is this a mall?"

With a casual shrug, you unbuckled your seatbelt, a playful smirk playing on your lips. "Do you always wake up this disoriented?"

Natasha's brow furrowed slightly, a hint of irritation creeping into her voice. "I wouldn't be disoriented if you didn't keep making unnecessary stops."

You shrugged, unfazed by her annoyance. "Relax, it's just a quick pit stop. Thought we could use a little break before we hit the road again."

Natasha sighed, her frustration evident as she glanced out the window. "Fine, but make it quick. We have a schedule to keep."

“You’re coming aren’t you?” You turned to her as you slid out of the driver’s seat.

Natasha followed suit, stepping out of the car with a grimace. This heat was atrocious. "I suppose I have no choice," she replied.

You walked ahead of her, straight through the mall, and into the adult equivalent of a candy store; Jared's Jewelry.

Natasha frowned as she observed you eyeing the necklaces on the counter. "Jewelry shopping?" she questioned, a hint of skepticism in her voice.

"Wedding band shopping," you clarified, tapping your left ring finger for emphasis. "Married couples with no rings?"

“Right,” She mumbled. This mission hadn’t been as meticulously planned as others. The dealings mostly relied on you both to be sufficient spies that could handle things like this on your own.

“We’ve been married two days and you’re already forgetting the important stuff,” You joked with a headshake. “Oh, I like this one.”

“$2,000?” Natasha tilted her head. She squinted her eyes at the price. This was a part of life she never had to pay much attention to.

“You're right too cheap,” You nodded in agreement. Natasha was just about to protest when a man with an unidentifiable accent approached the both of you.

The man, dressed in all black like a worker, approached with a friendly smile. "Can I help you ladies find something?" he asked in his accented voice.

You immediately shared a knowing gaze with Natasha. His accent was most certainly fake. Maybe as a way to keep up appearances in such a high-end store.

“Yes, my wife and I are looking for wedding bands,” You begin to play the part of Alexis. Half ditzy and overexcited. “Can you show me a better selection or is this all you have?”

“Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?”

“Surprise me,” You gestured to the entirety of the store.

The worker, Jimmy, nodded and led you to several pieces, showcasing them with pride. However, none of them seemed to be quite right. Natasha's annoyance grew evident, but you seemed to be having too much fun, trying on different pieces and admiring yourself in the mirror.

“What do you think of this one?” You looked at Natasha as you gently tapped against the glass. She inspected the jewelry piece and shrugged. She did not like it.

“How about this one?” Natasha pointed to a wedding band set near the area she wandered off to.

“Oh, that one is beautiful,” Jimmy praised as he opened up the glass casing for you to get a closer look. He picked up the ring, passing it over to you while watching the both of you closely.

You eyed the wedding band set that Natasha pointed out, examining it with interest. It was simple, yet elegant and beautiful, just as she described. You reached out to touch it, feeling the smooth material against your fingertips.

“How many carats?” You asked aloud. “It’s pretty.”

Jimmy described the wedding cushion band, "It's a 2-carat total weight round diamond set in 14-karat white gold. It's one of our finest pieces, quite exquisite, if I may say so."

Natasha's eyes widened as she realized how expensive it was, almost saying no. But before she could voice her concern, you rushed in, saying, "I'll take it."

“That’s a $4,000 ring,” Natasha pointed out.

You shrugged casually, "Yeah, so?"

“Don’t you think that’s a little expensive considering the circumstances?”

“Let’s just say my billionaire daddy gave me his credit card,” You smirked cheekily, alluding back to Natasha’s insult a few hours ago.

Natasha's eyebrows raised, but she didn't press further. Instead, she nodded, acknowledging your response.

“In that case, let’s look for a band that compliments you blondie,” Jimmy encouraged as he led you over to yet another ring display. He missed the death glare Natasha was sending his way as he walked ahead of you. You couldn't help but snicker at her expense. Oh, you would love this week. “This time, I think the misses can pick one out. Since you did pick hers.”

You grinned mischievously, your eyes scanning over rings that were far from Natasha's taste. "Sure thing, Jimmy. Let's see if we can find something that screams her." Your tone was playful, knowing full well that the rings you were considering would likely get a less-than-enthusiastic response from Natasha.

“Don’t you dare,” Natasha murmured threateningly. She caught sight of the rose gold wedding ring that looked more like a toy than real jewelry. It was tacky and not as well made as some of the other rings you’d seen.

You chuckled softly, pretending to consider the ring for a moment before shaking your head. "Nah, too flashy for you, babe," you teased, using the nickname deliberately to provoke a reaction. "We'll keep looking." You shot her a playful wink before turning your attention back to the display.

As you browsed through the selection, your eyes caught on a ring resting in the display. It was a delicate white gold band, adorned with a single, shimmering diamond that seemed to dance in the light. The stone was elegantly set in a simple, yet intricate design that directly matched yours. They complimented each other in the best way.

"This one," You murmured, reaching for the ring with a sense of certainty.

"This is it," You declared with a smile, turning to Natasha to gauge her reaction. “It compliments your eyes. I can’t describe it but it’s nice. What do you think?

“I like it,” Natasha cleared her throat, hoping to ease some of the awkwardness between you. “It’s nice.”

“We’ll take it,” You turned to give the ring to Jimmy. “How soon can we take both home?”

“Within the next hour,” Jimmy suggested. “You said you’re paying by credit card? For you, I can have everything done within fifteen minutes. It simply takes insurance a while. I’ll give you a call when it’s ready?”

“That sounds lovely, thank you,” You stepped over to the register where he began to ring you up. “Oh, I think I left my credit card in the car. Babe, won’t you be a doll and swipe for me?” You looked at Natasha with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

Natasha's eyes narrowed at your request, but she begrudgingly reached for her wallet, swiping her card without a word. As the transaction went through, you couldn't help but smirk, knowing you had just added another layer to your playful banter.

"Thanks, babe," You said with a wink, accepting the receipt from Jimmy. "I owe you one."

“Uh huh,” Natasha nodded. “We’ll be back soon.”

Natasha followed you out of the store and down towards the food court.

“Oh, Charley’s,” You grinned. “Come, we must feast.” You waved Natasha over to Charley's Philly Steak.

“Thanks but no thanks,” Natraha shook her head. “This is a lot of grease and…”

“What type of health nut are you ?” You asked in disgust. You gave her body a once over before you sighed.

Natasha gave a wry smile. "Call me crazy, but I prefer to avoid coronary artery disease."

You chuckled. "Suit yourself. More cheesesteak for me." With that, you headed into the restaurant, leaving Natasha to ponder her choices.

You ordered the best cheesesteak on the planet, practically salivating at the menu as you stood in line. When it was time to get your food, you led Natasha over to a table to sit with you. She sat with a simple lemonade in her hand as she eyed your surroundings subtly. You had to admit the girl was good.

“You know I kind of like you,” You said to Natasha in between bites. “At first, I simply thought you were bitchy. Now I think of you as kind of hot and bitchy. It works for you. Also, the blonde does look good on you I must say.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, unamused. "Thanks, I think."

You grinned, undeterred by her lack of enthusiasm. "Hey, it takes a special kind of person to rock the 'hot and bitchy' vibe. Not everyone can pull it off."

Natasha shook her head, a small smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Absolutely," You replied with a wink, taking another bite of your cheesesteak.

“You certainly have a way with words,” Natasha mumbled, as she watched you ogle a beautiful woman walking past the two of you. “Keep your eyes open.”

You glanced back at Natasha, a smirk playing on your lips. "Always do, especially when the view's this good."

Natasha rolled her eyes, but a hint of amusement danced in her gaze. "Just remember why we're here, okay?"

"Got it," You replied with a wink, turning your attention back to the task at hand.

“People say I’m a bit intense,” Natasha began. “They’ve never met you.”

You chuckled, acknowledging her remark. "Intense? Me? Nah, just passionate about the job."

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Sure, let's go with that."

“It gets me through the day to keep my mood lifted,” You said solemnly. “I spent so much time being serious. Stone-faced and unhappy. I like this version of me. It’s neat.”

Natasha regarded you with a hint of curiosity in her eyes. "So, you're saying the humor is a coping mechanism?"

You nodded a wistful smile on your face. "Something like that. Keeps me sane, you know?"

“I do,” Natasha agreed. “You’re not going to eat all of these,” Natasha said more so to herself than you as she grabbed a few fries from your plate.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to resist," You teased, nudging the plate closer to her.

“It’s halfway decent,” Natasha hummed as she chewed into a fry. “I’m not a stickler when it comes to eating. Just so you know.”

“I know,” You shrugged. Some things went without saying. If there was someone to truly judge her on certain habits she most likely gained from life growing up as a spy it wouldn’t be you.

“How old were you when you joined?” Natasha asked suddenly. “Your file doesn’t say.”

You chewed slowly, debating on whether you wanted to tell her or not.

“Fourteen,” You admitted.

Natasha's expression softened a hint of empathy in her eyes. "That's young," she remarked quietly, her tone more gentle than usual. She tried to imagine what a younger, spy you would look like. How would you have acted then? Were you afraid? Did you make friends? Were you allowed to have friends? She wants to know so much more. Though she figured you weren’t willing to tell her too much. You were only being cordial after all.

“It is,” You swallowed thickly. “I played basketball in school and I was recruited based on my JROTC background. I guess they saw something in me no one else did.”

Natasha nodded, absorbing your words. "They usually do," she replied, her voice carrying a weight of understanding. "Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I am,” You nodded. Anything to keep this conversation from going any deeper.

—------

The rest of the ride to Bay Harbor Island is done in relative silence. You and Natasha would share brief tidbits about the other, both made up and truthful, as you prepared to assume your roles. You could feel the hairs on your arms stand as you pulled into the luxurious resort parking lot. You wouldn’t even attempt to find a parking spot on your own, instead pulling up to the valet.

As the valet took the keys and you stepped out of the car, the weight of your assumed identities settled upon you. You straightened your posture, adopting the persona of Alexis, the confident and sophisticated woman you were tasked to portray. Natasha, too, seemed to slip effortlessly into her role as Joan, her demeanor shifting subtly to embody the elegance and grace expected of her character.

The resort exuded an air of opulence and sophistication, clear from the moment you stepped through the grand entrance. Freshly waxed marble floors stretched out before you, adorned with intricate patterns that spoke of craftsmanship and luxury. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceilings casting a warm glow over the lobby.

The atmosphere was alive with energy, as guests and staff moved through the various rooms. Busy chatter filled the air, mingling with the soft sounds of classical music that played softly in the background.

Natasha and you navigated through the crowd with ease, wheeling your luggage behind you as a busboy trailed dutifully after you. The occasional glance was thrown your way, but everyone was much too busy trying to check into their rooms to do much of anything.

As you and Natasha stood side by side, it was clear to you that each of you had your own way of assessing the situation. While you scanned the room for potential exits and assessed the number of staff and guests present, Natasha's focus was on the subtle nuances of the environment. She listened intently to the conversations around you, gauging the mood of the crowd and the flow of foot traffic with practiced precision.

Despite the amount of energy in the resort lobby, both of you remained calm and composed.

“I told you we should have gotten here earlier,” A woman’s gruff and irritated voice floated from behind you.

“Well, how was I supposed to know there would be people checking in on a Thursday?” The man argued.

You exchanged a glance with Natasha as the voices behind you caught your attention. It seemed like a typical couple's bickering, but something about their tone piqued your interest. They sounded tense as if there was more beneath the surface than just a disagreement over timing.

Natasha subtly shifted her position, her body language indicating that she was now paying closer attention to the conversation behind you.

“We're already late for check-in,” the woman continued, her frustration evident in her voice. “Now we're going to have to wait in line like everyone else.”

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” the man retorted defensively. “It's not my fault the traffic was so bad.”

As you moved ahead in line, a couple with a restless golden retriever cut off your path to get across. Hoping to avoid them, you stepped back, slightly losing your balance only to have Natasha press her left hand against your lower back to keep you steady.

“Sorry!” The husband called behind him as they rushed outside the front doors.

“Jeez, they almost knocked her over,” The woman behind you whispered to her husband, their bickering long gone.

"Thanks," You murmured to Natasha, offering her a small smile of appreciation.

“Is this okay?” Natasha leaned over to speak closer to your ear. She was referring to her hand on your back. You’d mentioned before how physical touch made you uncomfortable. Given that physical touch would be a must to sell as a fake couple, you would have to get over it. It was kind of her to ask. You nodded in response to Natasha's question, grateful for her consideration.

"Yeah, it's fine," You replied softly, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.

You were finally up. The front desk attendant was a kind young girl with a slight gap in her teeth. She had the sweetest smile that you couldn’t help but match.

“Hi, my wife and I are checking in,” Natasha spoke. “It should be under the last name White.”

The receptionist nodded, typing on the keyboard in front of her. "Ah, yes, Mrs. White," she confirmed, her fingers moving deftly over the keys. "I have your reservation right here. Welcome to Shady Corners Island Resort." She smiled warmly, handing over the room keys to Natasha. "I hope you don’t mind. Seeing as you’re newlyweds we took the pleasure of upgrading your room to one of our over-the-water bungalows. Free of charge. It’s our last one for the weekend.”

"That's very generous, thank you," Natasha replied with a gracious smile, accepting the room keys. "We appreciate it."

“If you just wait right over there near the red bell a member of our staff will be able to lead you and one of the other couples over to the bungalow area,” She gestured to the right.

"Sounds perfect," Natasha nodded, gesturing for you to follow her toward the designated waiting area near the red bell.

As Natasha and you made your way towards the waiting area, you overheard the couple behind you whispering to each other.

"I wish we could get an upgrade like that," the woman muttered.

"Yeah, but didn't you hear? The last room got booked by that couple in front of us," the man replied, disappointment evident in his voice.

You exchanged a glance with Natasha, silently acknowledging the stroke of luck that landed you the upgraded room.

As you and Natasha settled near the red bell, the couple with the restless golden retriever approached and stood next to you. The dog, clearly still restless, tugged on its leash, occasionally letting out a low whine.

You couldn't help but wonder how the dog was allowed in such a busy and upscale hotel, but you kept your thoughts to yourself, not wanting to make any assumptions. Instead, you focused on maintaining your composure and waiting patiently for the staff member to lead you to your bungalow.

“White?” An attendant approached the two of you and you answered with an enthusiastic nod. “And, Corcoran?”

“That would be us,” The woman answered. Her hair was a dark brown, beach curled, and flowing down her back. Her features were pleasant enough, with soft curves to her face and a warm smile.

“Follow me,” The attendant gestured.

As the attendant led the way, Natasha eventually dropped her hand from your back. You tried to ignore the sudden absence of her touch, focusing instead on the picturesque view of the overwater bungalows ahead. The path to the accommodations wound through lush gardens and over small bridges spanning the peaceful ocean. The sound of gentle waves lapping against the wooden stilts beneath the bungalows filled the air, creating a serene atmosphere.

“302 Sunset Retreat,” The attendant offered to take hold of your key card to show you how to get in. He demonstrated how to use the key card to unlock the door, sliding it into the slot and giving it a gentle push. With a soft click, the door unlocked, and he pushed it open to reveal the luxurious interior.

Once inside, the bellboy followed behind with your bags, placing them neatly in the living area before excusing himself, leaving you and Natasha alone in the bungalow.

The interior of the bungalow exuded tropical luxury with a modern twist.

A plush king-sized bed adorned with crisp, white linens served as the focal point of the room. The large windows offered stunning views of the crystal-clear waters below.

In one corner of the room, a luxurious jacuzzi tub awaited, surrounded by lush greenery for added privacy. Nearby, a sleek waterfall shower, with glass doors, stood tall.

A top-notch mini-bar stocked with an array of beverages and snacks stood against one wall, offering indulgent treats for your enjoyment. Outside, a small patio beckoned with comfortable chairs, providing the perfect spot to sip a refreshing drink and soak in the breathtaking views of the surrounding lagoon.

The best part of the room was the cooler filled with champagne and wine. Along with the rose petals sprinkled over the tiny kitchenette counter.

“Nice,” Natasha sighed as she stepped into the bedroom area of the bungalow. “Bed-sharing.”

“I know so cliche,” You shook your head as you grabbed a bottle of water from the mini-fridge.

Natasha rolled her eyes playfully at your comment, her lips curling into a small smirk. "Well, we're committed to selling the whole 'newlywed' vibe, aren't we?" she quipped, her tone laced with sarcasm.

You chuckled, nodding in agreement as you twisted the cap off the water bottle. "Exactly. It's all about authenticity," you replied, taking a sip before gesturing towards the inviting bed. "Shall we test it out?"

“Test it out?” Natasha raised a brow.

“Must I be the beauty and the brains in this relationship?” You mumbled.

Natasha chuckled softly. "Careful, or you might bruise your delicate ego," she teased. "But sure, why not? It's been a long day." She walked over to the bed and flopped down onto it, letting out a content sigh.

“You’re lying on the bed with your outside clothes?” You asked incredulously.

“What? You said test it out?” Natasha frowned.

"Fair enough," You conceded, walking over to the bed and gingerly sitting down beside her. "But you're still breaking all the rules of hotel etiquette."

“I think we’ll survive,” Natasha closed her eyes. She needed a few minutes to process.

“It’s so boring already,” You groaned as you began to look through the drawers beside the bed.

Natasha sighed, a hint of irritation in her voice. "Can't you sit still for a moment?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, continuing to rummage through the drawers. "I'm just trying to find something to pass the time. Being cooped up in this room isn't exactly thrilling."

Natasha rolled her eyes, her patience wearing thin. "Well, try to contain yourself. We're here for a mission, not a vacation. Also, we’ve been here all of five minutes."

“Five minutes that I could have been in a bikini in the sun,” You said in a ‘duh’ tone. “Sun’s out bun’s out as they say.”

“Are you sure you don’t have ADHD?” Natasha began to ask as she squinted her eyes. Was she analyzing you?

“What are you a psychiatrist? I thought that was my cover,” You rolled your eyes.

"Who says I can't dabble in multiple professions? Besides, it's not exactly rocket science to see that you're a bit on edge like all the time,” Natasha pointed out.

You raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Is that your professional diagnosis?"

"Consider it a layman's observation," She replied with a grin.

“Well, how about we observe someone by the pool? Come on Tasha,” You whined.

“I thought I said no nicknames,” Natasha growled.

“It’s not a nickname it’s just a shortening of your name,” You shrugged. “Also, you told me not to call you honey or baby. Nowhere did you say I couldn’t call you Tasha.”

Natasha's expression hardened, her eyes narrowing. "Semantics."

You grinned mischievously. "Exactly."

She shook her head. "Let's just go observe by the pool, alright?"

----> part 5

#black reader #black widow x female reader #black widow x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader

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chuusheartattck · 11 months ago

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THAT’S THAT ME ESPRESSO (TTME)

Chapter 5- Party O’ Clock ☕️

As you, Hu Tao, and Ayaka were done getting ready, you all piled up in the Kamisato family car. Which happens to be a Rolls Royce. These damn rich people and their fancy cars.

Ayato, Ayaka’s brother, was designated driver. Ayaka has yet to acquire her license.

“Damn girl!” Hu Tao looked around the car with amazement, “If you would’ve told me you had one of these I would have been coming over every day.”

Ayaka only giggled. You felt like an actual celebrity in this car. Not like you aren’t one, it just never hit you till now. You’re going to one of the biggest parties in the entertainment industry that was kept on the low from the public.

It all felt so surreal. As you were having this realization, Ayaka handed her phone to you to play some music. You stared at her phone trying to come up with something to play.

A moment passes and still being indecisive, you handed the phone to Hu Tao. You can be aux in someone’s car another day.

Hu Tao was always good at aux. She selected Sundress by Asap Rocky first. Hu Tao then queued up a few more songs before handing the phone back to Ayaka.

The car ride was mostly filled with Ayaka and Hu Tao talking. You or Ayato would sometimes chime in. Usually you’re a yapper, however, you had this sense of dread in you.

You didn’t know what it was. Was it because it was your first time going to one of these things? Or was it because you knew you were going to have to encounter the one person you wish you wouldn’t have to see after high school.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the car had stopped. It was only when Hu Tao tapped your shoulder that you realized you had arrived.

You stepped out of the car and got a good look at the place. A giant manor appeared in front of you. A beautiful fountain made out of marble centered in the middle. Greenery hugged the perimeter. How was THIS kept from the public? Furina must’ve used your Espresso money to pay for all this.

Honesty, it felt like you didn’t belong here.

Hu Tao grabbed your hand and led you inside. A lot of high end celebrities were here. Some of them you were a big fan of. Nonetheless, this wasn’t the place to be asking them for pictures. In the corner you spotted Lyney, Lynette, and Mona who were all at the bar.

“There you guys are!” Mona exclaimed.

She hugged you, Hu Tao, and Ayaka.

“Can we take some shots already??” Hu Tao questioned.

She was very eager to get wasted. Ironic because she was telling you not to a few days ago.

The bartender poured everyone a shot of Soju.

Then another.

Another.

One more.

Now you, Hu Tao, Lyney, and Mona were all four shots deep. Lynette doesn’t drink and Ayaka only had one since she’s a lightweight. You could handle a few more but you didn’t want to get blackout hammered. Hu Tao’s warning was still in the back of your mind. You only picked up a White Claw to be drinking throughout the night.

You left your friends at the bar and decided to explore on your own. That was, until you noticed a familiar orange hair in the distance.

It seemed to notice you to.

“Holy shit! Is that Y/n?” It was Childe. Who appeared to be very drunk already.

“Holy shit! Is that my prom mosh pit buddy?” You responded. He couldn’t help but laugh.

During your senior prom you spent the entire time in the dance circle/mosh pit with Childe. It was fun but very unexpected.

You and Childe exchanged a reunion hug. He smelled of alcohol and sweat.

“Dude how many shots have you taken?” You begin to ask. It was a bit concerning he was already fucked up this early.

“Uhh only like 7??” Childe chuckled. His speech slurring a bit.

“What the fuck?” It impressed you.

“How have you been though? We barely spoke at the grad party. Your new song is honestly really good.” Childe commented on. He was always nice to you. Never had any malicious intent, which was surprising considering who his friends are.

You hesitated before responding, “I’ve been good. I barely saw you at the party that was my bad! I liked your movie with Lumine. Anyone but You right?”

“Thank you! I had a fun time filming it. I didn’t know you watched my movies.” Childe simply responded. He always had a flirty tone whenever he talked to people.

Childe then pulled out a geek bar and took a hit. The smell of candy filled the air. He then offered it to you.

You stared at it for a moment. Fuck it. You took a hit of the blowpop flavored vape. Of course you inhaled wrong and began coughing up a storm. Childe started laughing his ass off.

“This is why I hate nic. Fucking fein.” You barely formed the sentence. Hacking and coughing up your lungs. You took a sip of your White Claw to bring back moisture to your throat.

“Y/n, you good?” Childe asked while continuing to laugh.

Before you could even respond, he was whisked away by Venti. You both said your goodbyes and you were on your own once again.

Sipping your White Claw you began to feel a little tipsy, so you decide to sit down somewhere. You always underestimate alcohol. As soon as you sat down, it felt like the whole world was spinning. You felt dizzy but in a good way. It felt good to be drunk.

It took you a minute to notice someone was next to you, until you smelled a joint being sparked up. Obviously you turned to the source of the smell.

It was none other than Xiao and the singer Albedo from Mondstadt Entertainment. How did they know each other? Who knows. Albedo was the first one to notice you though.

“Hello. Aren’t you Y/n?” He questioned.

You got a little shy. It was weird to have one of your favorite artists know your existence. Damn. No more parasocial relationships for you.

Xiao responded for you, “They’re the one who has a twitter feud with Scaramouche.”

“You didn’t have to tell him all that.” You responded with embarrassment. It was true though, currently you’re trending for fighting with the most popular person under Inazuma Entertainment.

“Shits funny though. We always laugh about it in the group chat.” Xiao mentioned as he took a hit from the joint.

They talk about you in the Inazuma group chat?

“Oh so am I like a household name there?” You joked. You were always intimidated by him. Xiao always looks so mad. However, the alcohol is making your fears go away.

“Yeah kinda. By the way, do you smoke?” Xiao asked nonchalantly, his body shifted to look at you. It felt like his eyes were piercing through your soul.

This caught you off guard, “I sometimes do when I have stuff.”

Xiao then handed you the joint and you took a long hit. You didn’t cough this time. If you were being honest, you preferred weed over nicotine, It doesn’t smell as great but it also doesn’t make you feel sick.

You passed it to Albedo, who took a long inhale. This could be seen as a dream blunt rotation or a nightmare blunt rotation. However, it wasn’t until the end where you felt the weed hit. Mix with the alcohol, you began to feel crossed. You began to feel so giggly and everything moved so slow.

You turned to the both of them, “What the hell was in this?”

“Don’t worry it’s not laced. It’s just weed imported from Snezhnaya. My plug is from there.” Albedo reassured you.

“You have a plug?” Your question came out more of a surprise than you have intended.

“Yes. He’s the best. Here let me give you my number so we can smoke again. Xiao give them yours too.” Albedo grabbed your phone from you to type in his number. Xiao then grabbed the phone from Albedo and typed in his number as well.

You felt proud of yourself for scoring two hot guy’s numbers. Were you actually going to text them? Who knows!

The more you sat down, the more you realized how stuffy and hot the place was becoming. You excused yourself and went out onto the balcony to get some fresh air.

The cold air stung as you had exited the warm party. It quickly felt nice though. As you hung your head over the balcony, you heard footsteps approaching behind you.

Turning around, you saw the person you wanted to avoid the most tonight. Scara fucking mouche.

As you guys made eye contact he scoffed and looked away. He looked the same as ever. Fortunately, still good looking. Unfortunately, still short.

There was a bit of awkward silence before you began to spoke.

“Can’t you see I was here first?” Alcohol makes you appear more bolder.

“How fucking drunk are you?” Scara asked in a harsh tone. “And are you high too? You smell like weed.”

“That’s none of your business.” You retorted.

He rolled his eyes, “You don’t change do you?”

He walked next to you on the balcony. There was still a decent amount of space between you guys. You glanced over to him. Scara’s hair looks grown out but still healthy, despite often dying it purple. His violet eyes were looking out into the outside portion of the party. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’d be someone who’s the opposite of what he actually is.

Scara then took out a pack of cigarettes and began lighting one. You stared at it hoping he’d offer it to you. You love smoking cigs when drunk. For someone who sings, you sure do smoke a lot.

“You’re not sharing this with me.” Scara said plainly. Not even glancing at you.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” You looked away from him. The cool air felt pleasant against your skin. You could hear the music blaring from the inside and the people mingling down below. It was better than any other party you had attended.

There was another long silence between you guys. It didn’t feel awkward anymore. It was more nostalgic and comforting than anything. So you began to talk once again.

“Do you still talk to Aether or Kazuha?” The question always lingered in your mind. Those were some of the mutual friends you guys had shared. You haven’t spoken to either of them since graduation.

“Yes, sometimes” Scara responded in a monotone voice. He didn’t seem interested to talk to you. You didn’t care though.

There was yet again another long silence. This time, he stuck out his hand to you. Offering the cigarette.

“Take it before I change my mind.” He mumbled.

You took the cigarette from his hand, now sharing it with him. You were too out of it to notice the bitter taste. Perhaps, it was the liquor masking the true taste of the cigarette. Perhaps, it was the liquor that was the real reason you were feeling more bold to ask this certain question. One that has been lingering in your mind the longest. The question you were worried about the answer the most.

“Did you ever like talking to me?”

The question shifted the tension in the air.

Scara was calculating his response. The longer he took to respond, the more anxious you felt.

“You were a nice friend to talk to.” He finally answered.

The answer disappointed you.

Just a friend? Seriously? After all those nights on facetime, him listening to you rant, him getting upset when you took too long to respond, him sending you over 20 tiktoks a day, him recommending you songs or movies, and him getting jealous over random guys. That was just him being a friend?

“Are you fucking serious right now?” You snapped at him. You turned your body to face his.

“What??” Scara retorted, barely glancing in your direction.

“If I was just a friend then why were you so ashamed of me? Why did you never tell anyone we would talk on the daily?” You began to press into him.

“You never told anyone either! You barely even told Hu Tao.” Scara argued back, finally facing you.

“And you only told Childe! I didn’t know what we were. You always seemed embarrassed to talk to me at school. We rarely hung out outside of school. And you let your friends harass me.” Your feelings from the past year gushed out of you. You weren’t holding back.

“Yeah you’re right. I was embarrassed of you. Everyone at school made fun of you because you were a trainee. Your personality made it unbearable and that’s why you only had a few friends. Anyone associated with you was questioned and also made fun of. I at least wanted to keep my connections.” Scara’s words felt like a knife to the heart.

Deep down, you knew that most people around you felt like you were a burden for pursuing your idol dreams. Everytime you would apologize for flaking because you were practicing, how you would talk about what happened at practice, and how hard you tried to fit in. It never seemed good enough for people. You tried your best being friendly but people often thought you were fake. It just hurt coming from someone you thought cared about you.

“You seriously considered how people felt? I thought you didn’t care what people thought about you. I thought you were different.” Your voice cracked as you tried to hold back tears.

“It’s different when it came to you. You were the joke of the grade. You may have had some friends but did you ever wonder what people thought of them? For being associated with you?” His questions grilled into you like an interrogation.

Your friends always comforted you. Not once did they ever mention their image getting tarnished. Sure they would sometimes get teased for even speaking to you, but they never seemed to care. Right?

“Then what about Childe?” You finally argued back, “He was always nice to me. I don’t recall anyone teasing him for texting or speaking to me.”

“That’s because he’s respected enough. No one dared to bully him or even say anything to him about his friends.” Scara replied nonchalantly.

It was irritating to see him not care about how his words would affect you. You had enough.

“Whatever. Fuck you and fuck your friend group. You never deserved me or everything I did for you, you little ungrateful cunt. You’re dead to me.“ Those were your final words to him before storming off. All the emotions began to pour out of you as you began to walk away.

As Scara saw you walk off, he turned back to face the night sky. “What a dramatic bitch.” He muttered before finally finishing the cigarette you two had shared. As he threw it on the ground, he felt a sort of guilt. Did he really need to tell you all that?

Whatever.

You deserved to know.

Scara looked around at the people in attendance. He then noticed something in the corner of his eye. Someone was throwing up in a bush. Someone familiar….for fucks sake it’s Venti. Kokomi at his side comforting him. Scara groaned not believing what he is seeing. He walked back into the party so he could help his somewhat friend.

Meanwhile, you were trying your best to find your friends. You wanted to leave this party asap. You dialed Ayaka’s number and luckily she picked up. They were by the snack table. You hurriedly met up with them.

When you got there, Lyney, Mona, and Hu Tao were wasted out of their minds. It was an amusing sight.

What wasn’t an amusing sight, was you visibly shaken up. Naturally, it didn’t take long before they noticed.

“Hey Y/n are you alright?�� Lynette asked. She always had a keen eye for people’s body language.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I ran into Scaramouche and we had this giant argument.” You hesitated in answering. Nervous on how the others might react.

“YOU WHAT? NAH where is he?! Lemme go beat his ass!” Hu Tao tried standing up but she fell on top of Lyney.

“Get your fat ass off of me!” Lyney slurred.

“Y/n do you want to leave? We were about to head out right now and text you.” Ayaka mentioned.

You nodded. This party was fun until you had a run in with him.

“Lynette, do you and the others want to sleepover at my place with us?” Ayaka offered.

Lynette glanced over at Lyney and Mona, who were fighting over the last cookie. She then looked at Ayaka and nodded.

Lynette, Lyney, and Mona got into Lynette’s car meanwhile you, Hu Tao, Ayaka, and Ayato got into the car you arrived in. The car ride was silent. You were still drunk and angry at what had happened earlier so you whipped out your phone to send a few texts.

You closed your eyes for the remainder of the car ride. When you opened them, had finally arrived to the Kamisato Estate. It’s as big inside as it is outside.

Ayaka showed you all to your rooms and you all began to unwind for the night. You immediately collapsed onto the bed. The world still spinning around you and memories from the party flood your brain. You tried your best to repress those thoughts and fall asleep.

Masterlist II Previous II Next

A/N: Chapter 5 done!! This is my first written chapter so I apologize if it’s really long. I was too lazy to split it up into two parts. (That’s pretty much why I lowk rushed the ending) I know this chapter was a bit dramatic but I lowk had a fun time writing it. This isn’t even all the lore between Scara and Y/n 🤫 Also let’s pretend the Kamisato Estate is close to where the party is being held 💔 I’m bad at geography.

ALSOOO lmk if you guys want your users to be added to this au and i’ll make you a twitter user :)

Synopsis: You’re a new idol that just debuted under ‘Fontaine Entertainment’ with your new single ‘Espresso.’ You just graduated high school which means all your classmates are shocked to see you into stardom. Including your old situationship, who happens to be an actor.

Taglist: @skyoverkill1 @quacking-simp @lolmeowing @astro-stars @kaitfae @sl-vega @veekoko @scarawiki @yuminako @samyayaya @skyvella @kur0kki @practicoi @kukikoooo @scaraenthusiast1 @shutingstar @lloovvv @moonjellyfishie @miy-svz @xionri @lalalaloveallmydays @hearts4lizzzz @kathiwis @state-of-grac3

#genshin impact #genshin impact smau #genshin smau #y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #ttme #chuusheartattck

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mixolya · 4 months ago

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ᓚᘏᗢ — golden hours, golden hearts : chapter 006 !

the city of paris was still draped in the soft veil of dawn as you pulled yourself out of bed, the faint light of the early morning spilling through your curtains. you glanced at the clock. 6 am. not the most forgiving hour, but you were used to it by now.

you moved through your routine with practice efficiency, taking a quick shower before settling in front of the mirror. your hair was cooperative for once, falling into place as you brushed it. a touch of makeup followed, subtle, just enough to emphasize your features since they will do your makeup anyway.

the soft light of dawn spilled through the large windows of your loft, casting a warm glow over the sleek, modern decor. with a quick glance around the space, you double-checked that you hadn't forgotten anything before heading out the door.

your outfit was casual yet chic, your bag packed with all the essentials. satisfied, you slipped in your shoes and headed out the door.

paris was alive as always, even at this early hour. the hum of morning activity filled the air: delivery trucks unloading, café owners setting up tables, and the occasional chatter of early risers. the streets were a blend of familiar sounds, grounding you as you stepped into the waiting cab.

sliding into the backseat, you crossed your legs and gave your driver the address of the calvin klein studio. you weren't nervous - this wasn't your first high-profile shoot, after all. but, calvin klein was the first brand you worked with, so it's a little special.

as the cab moved through the bustling streets, you gazed out the window, taking in the familiar beauty of paris. a small smile tugged at your lips as you thought about the day ahead.

the calvin klein studio was sleek and understated, its modern design evidence to the brand's timeless aesthetic. you stepped out of the cab, your heels clicking against the pavement as you adjusted your jacket and walked through the glass door.

"y/n! so good to see you again," the assistant, aurora, greeted you warmly as soon as you entered. she looked effortlessly polished, holding a clipboard and radiating the kind of energy that kept things running smoothly.

"good morning," you replied with a smile. "i'm looking forward to today."

the assistant gestured for you to follow, her heels tapping rhythmically against the polished floors.

"today's concept is simple but powerful. clean, intimate, and very calvin klein," she explained as you walked. "we've selected pieces that will highlight the essence of the brand while focusing on the chemistry between you and your partner."

you hummed in acknowledgment, confident and collected as she continued.

this wasn't your first duo shoot, and the idea of working with another model didn't faze you. you were curious, of course, about who it would be, but your years of experience had taught you how to adapt to any situation.

"y/n, you're going to love these pieces," one of them said, gesturing to the rack of clothing. "minimalist, sleek, and classic CK."

your fingers brushed over the fabrics as you examined the options. soft neutrals, bold blacks, crisp whites. every detail exuded luxury and sophistication.

"perfect," you said, meeting their expectant gazes. "let's see what works best."

the team buzzed around, discussing pairings and accessories as you watched them with a calm, practiced eye. they knew their craft, and you trusted them to make the right calls.

once everything was sorted, aurora led you down another hallway to a quiet waiting room. the space was comfortable, designed to put any model at ease. a plush sofa sat in the center, with a table offering refreshments and light snacks.

"you can relax here until your partner arrives," she said, gesturing to the space. "shouldn't be too long now."

"got it. thank you," you replied, flashing her a smile.

as the door clicked shut behind her, you settled onto the sofa, your posture relaxed but composed. you let your thoughts wander for a moment, wondering who your duo might be. would it be someone you'd worked before? it isn't hyoma, for sure. or maybe a fresh face with a reputation that preceded them?

chapter 005 > here > chapter 007

taglist is open ! <3

back to golden hours, golden hearts

a/n: im sure yk what comes next man this is so boring if uk what happens next BRJHEKFOJIKR

taglist: @darling-dearesttt @saeslove @yuukigyatgyat @sof888a @beepbopzlorp @luvrrin @narcjsistx @catukin @megumismyhusband @morgyyyyyyy @levihanmyotp @kaz-0e @nensi @vaelils @loverryxx @kunascutie @bbladie @swagkittybear @alexiaray @kaidostwin @black-swan-blog27 @syarc0re @vayahatesu @yangx2isawhore @pinkfqiry @treeguzzler @shumeow-h @modxbea @90s-belladonna @rory-cakes @sapph1r3x @yuiearyi @pctterheadd @thecallofmedusa @whisperofae @belovedfedya @anqelkoz @yukari1k @dontmindtheevie @pookalicious-hq @pan-kojiwa

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starlingbite · 28 days ago

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Out of breath, I am left hoping someday I'll breathe again

Post 8x15 Coda --- 1875 words --- Buck/Eddie

After Buck is led out of the lab, there's only one person he wants to see. So, he gets on a plane. Eddie is strong for Buck, but Buck needs to be strong for Eddie too.

****

He doesn’t really remember much of what happens next. A man he’s never seen before in full hazmat helps him off the floor and leads him out of the building. He goes through the motions of decontamination on autopilot. He’s told where to stand, when to move and he does it all without saying a word.

Afterwards, he’s handed his clothes and told to get dressed. His 118 hoodie goes on last, the hood pulled up like a cocoon. It should keep him warm but he can’t stop shivering. As he’s told he’s free to go, he thinks about Athena, wonders who’s looking after her. He’s not seen her at all since he was led out. Bobby told him to be strong, to be there for everyone but he can’t. Not yet. The guilt tastes bitter in his mouth.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. Without looking, he guesses it must be Maddie but he doesn’t have the words to communicate what’s going on in his head right now, so he lets the messages go unanswered and lets the phone ring and ring until it finally stops.

His car is still parked outside the station where he left it hours earlier, back when Bobby was alive his mind supplies. The thought of going back there right now feels too hard so Instead he orders an uber. As he hovers over the destination options, only one place comes to mind and he selects it before he can change his mind. The car arrives a few minutes later, the driver pumping techno music from the speakers. He nods his head at Buck as he climbs in the back, not seeming to care that his passenger doesn’t say anything back.

Half an hour later he’s dropped off at the airport. His freshly bought ticket sitting on his phone. He bypasses the ticket desks, mostly empty at this time of night. There’s only one red-eye flight left to depart and by some miracle, it’s heading exactly where Buck wants to go.

Continue reading on A03

@spotsandsocks @bigfootsmom @dr-shortsighted-owl @calinaannehart @thebestbooksaround @devirnis @wildlife4life

#911 spoilers #buckxeddie #911 #911 fic #911 abc

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nayziiz · 1 year ago

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Speed | CS55

Summary: In a chance encounter at a gas station, a mysterious woman on a Yamaha YZF R6 catches the attention of Carlos, a charming Ferrari driver. Little did they know the journey they would both go on.

Warning: Smut, fluff

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x OC (Lola)

Masterlist

Chapter 2

Lola's scepticism lingered in the back of her mind as she went about her day, her encounter with Carlos just another fleeting moment in a string of casual interactions. She had grown accustomed to the attention her motorcycle garnered, but she had learned the hard way that most encounters rarely led to anything meaningful.

So when her phone chimed with a new message just an hour later, she couldn't help but feel a flicker of surprise. Tentatively, she unlocked her phone, her heart skipping a beat as she saw Carlos's name on the screen.

With a mixture of curiosity and cautious optimism, she opened the message, her breath catching in her throat as she read his words.

The first message was to the point: “Dinner tomorrow night?” and was accompanied by a motorcycle emoji. The second message was clarifying that it was him messaging.

Lola's anticipation surged as she re-read Carlos's messages, each word carrying a weight of possibility that left her breathless with excitement. With a quick intake of breath, she composed her response, her fingers dancing across the screen as she typed. “Dinner tomorrow night sounds perfect. Looking forward to it, Carlos.” and she added a blushing smiley face for good measure.

With each brief text exchange, Lola's anticipation for her upcoming date with Carlos continued to grow. His minimal yet decisive messages conveyed a sense of purpose and excitement, leaving her eagerly counting down the hours until their evening together.

When Carlos mentioned that their dinner would be at a fancy place, Lola's mind immediately began to race with possibilities. She knew instantly what she wanted to wear—a sleek, sophisticated ensemble that would perfectly complement the upscale ambiance of their destination.

As she carefully selected her outfit, each garment chosen with meticulous attention to detail, she couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement building within her. This wasn't just any dinner—it was an opportunity to make a lasting impression, to show Carlos a glimpse of the woman behind the motorcycle helmet.

With her outfit chosen and her anticipation mounting, Lola couldn't wait to see where the evening would take her.

As Carlos pulled up to the house indicated by Lola's pin location, his gaze immediately fell upon the unmistakable silhouette of her Yamaha standing proudly in front of the open garage door. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he realised he had arrived at the right place—a feeling of anticipation stirring within him as he stepped out of his Ferrari.

His eyes followed the sound of movement, and there she was, emerging from the garage with an effortless grace that took his breath away. Immaculately dressed in all black, she exuded an air of sophistication and confidence that captivated him instantly.

With practised ease, she kicked down the kickstand of her motorcycle and guided it into the garage, her movements fluid and purposeful. And then, with a smile that lit up her features, she made her way toward him, closing the distance between them with each step.

As she approached the Ferrari, Carlos couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the prospect of spending the evening in her company. With each passing moment, he found himself more intrigued by the enigmatic woman before him, eager to discover what the night had in store.

As Lola approached the Ferrari, she couldn't help but notice the unmistakable gleam of admiration in Carlos's eyes as he stepped out of the car. His chivalrous gesture of opening the passenger door for her only added to the sense of anticipation that hung in the air between them.

With a confident stride, Lola descended the driveway, the click of her thigh-high heeled boots against the pavement echoing in the quiet evening air. She felt a surge of confidence wash over her as she approached the waiting car, her gaze meeting Carlos's with a playful twinkle in her eyes.

Carlos, momentarily rendered speechless by her captivating presence, watched in awe as she drew closer, her every movement exuding an effortless allure that left him breathless. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her, the sight of her in those thigh-high boots igniting a fire within him that he hadn't known existed. As she reached the passenger side of the car, Carlos snapped out of his reverie, a warm smile gracing his lips as he held the door open for her.

“You look incredible.” He murmured, his voice soft and sincere as he met her gaze with a warmth that made her heart flutter. Carlos's words washed over Lola like a warm embrace, his compliment sending a shiver of delight down her spine.

“You don't look too bad yourself.” She replied, her tone teasing yet genuine as she reached out to take his hand. A playful smile curved her lips as she returned his compliment, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

With his help, she gracefully settled into the passenger seat of the Ferrari, the soft leather enveloping her like a cocoon of luxury. As she buckled her seatbelt and adjusted her position, she couldn't shake the feeling of excitement coursing through her—excitement for the evening ahead, and for the chance to spend time with Carlos, whose presence already felt like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds.

And as Carlos closed the door and made his way around to the driver's side, Lola couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within her—a feeling that whispered of endless possibilities and the promise of a night filled with unforgettable moments.

As Carlos settled into the driver's seat, Lola couldn't help but notice how effortlessly he carried himself in his all-black suit, the crisp white button-up shirt adding a touch of sophistication to his ensemble. There was an air of refinement about him, a quiet confidence that spoke volumes about his character.

And as she glanced down at her own attire—a sleek, all-black ensemble that mirrored his own—she couldn't shake the feeling that their outfits were somehow perfectly coordinated, as if they had unconsciously matched their attire for the evening.

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she met Carlos's gaze, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. It was a small detail, but one that spoke volumes about the connection they shared—a connection that seemed to transcend words and manifest itself in the subtlest of ways.

As Carlos started the engine and pulled out onto the road, Lola couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within her. Tonight was shaping up to be something special, and as she settled back into her seat, she couldn't wait to see where the night would take them.

“So, where are we going?” Lola wondered, breaking the silence.

"One of my favourite restaurants in town." Carlos replied with a sheepish smile.

"I swear if it's a burger joint and you have us all dressed up for that, I might just run you over with my bike." Lola teased. Carlos chuckled at Lola's playful threat, his smile widening at her sense of humour.

“Don't worry, it's not a burger joint.” He reassured her with a playful glint in his eyes. “I promise you won't be disappointed.”

Lola grinned in response, a twinkle of mischief dancing in her eyes.

“I mean, I'd do a double cheeseburger, but still.” She joked, her tone light and teasing as she leaned back in her seat.

As Carlos pressed down on the accelerator, the sleek Ferrari surged forward with effortless grace, the purr of the engine harmonising with the rhythm of the city streets. Lola couldn't help but smile at his playful response to her joke, her laughter mingling with the rush of wind as they sped through the night.

Despite the increase in speed, Lola remained remarkably composed, her demeanour calm and collected as she settled into her seat. It was a familiar sensation, one she had grown accustomed to during her late-night rides on the highway—a sense of freedom and exhilaration that washed over her like a tidal wave.

In those quiet moments, with nothing but the open road stretching out before her, Lola would push her motorcycle to its limits, chasing the thrill of speed and the rush of adrenaline that came with it. At first, it had been about conquering her fear, facing the unknown head-on and emerging victorious on the other side.

But as time went on, something shifted within her—a subtle yet profound transformation that she couldn't quite put into words. It was as if she were no longer chasing the fear, but rather embracing it, allowing it to fuel her passion and drive her forward.

And now, as she sat beside Carlos in the Ferrari, she couldn't help but marvel at the parallels between their two worlds—the thrill of speed, the exhilaration of the chase. In that moment, she realised that perhaps they weren't so different after all—that they were both seekers of adventure, explorers of the unknown, chasing after the rush of life with all the passion and determination they could muster.

“How did you get into the bike thing?” Carlos wondered, his curiosity evident in the way he glanced over at Lola as they drove through the city streets.

Lola's eyes lit up at the question, a nostalgic smile gracing her lips as she recalled the moment that had sparked her lifelong passion for motorcycles.

“When I was ten, my dad took me and my brother to a MotoGP.” She began, her voice tinged with fondness. “I was standing on an elevated platform, and when the bikes sped past, the wind almost blew me right off the platform if I wasn't holding on for dear life. From that day on, all I ever wanted was to feel that way again, and then the bug bit.”

Carlos nodded, his smile widening at her animated explanation.

“I know the feeling.” He admitted, his fingers instinctively tightening around the steering wheel, as if he were back on the racetrack in his F1 car.

Turning the conversation back to him, Lola couldn't help but be intrigued by the man behind the Ferrari steering wheel.

“So, Ferrari, huh? What bug bit you?” She asked, her tone playful as she mirrored his earlier question.

Carlos hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal.

“I drive a Ferrari for work.” He explained vaguely, knowing that Lola likely had no idea he was a famous F1 driver for Scuderia Ferrari. “But, I've always preferred my VW Golf.”

Lola chuckled at the thought, the image of the dashing man behind the Ferrari wheel cruising around in a modest VW Golf adding a touch of charm to his already captivating persona. It was a refreshing reminder that appearances could be deceiving, and that sometimes, the things that brought us the most joy were the simplest and most unassuming.

“Well, I guess we all have our preferences.” She remarked with a grin, a shared understanding passing between them. “I can see the appeal. There's something to be said for a reliable ride that gets you where you need to go.”

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Taglist: @itsjustkhaos

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