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#when i say that i cannot wait for you guys to read the next few chapters i mean it with a passion
kisses4reid · 6 months
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convenient pt.3 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
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pt. 1 | pt.2 (you cannot read this without prior reading)
summary - spencer likes the girl from the convenience store
warnings - awkward conversations and long silences, both of them being hopeless romantics, allergies/sickness
genre - fluff!!! college!fem!reader x earlyseasons!spencer
a/n - thank you for the love and support on this series. it goes without saying i appreciate all of you all 🫶 thank u @raevyng for the cameo. sorry this is short, it’s either i upload this part or i make y’all wait for another week - i like you guys too much to do that.
“good job on you’re stem cell report, y/n. it was very informed and unique. i liked the, now who was it… william blake quote you included!” the teacher spoke before a class of 60. it was back to teaching new information before the next assessment, you were just about finished typing the professor’s notes before she spoke up. the mention of your name nearly made you jump.
a few of the students looked back up at you, some looking around because they had no clue who you were. you liked it better that way.
you also had no idea who william blake was.
“oh- um. thanks.” you say barely above a whisper. professor raena simply smiled and pushed back her shoulder length bob from her face. she started talking again, so did your friend.
“thanks? the professor who’s known to call out people for their incompetence more than smile in the classroom just praised you. that’s all you had to say?”
maybe logan wasn’t your friend per say. maybe she was just someone who sat next to you the first class and also happened to be your neighbour. she was stubborn and straight-forward, insanely intelligent and also smelt great. but she was caring, and gave you tough love when you needed it.
you glanced at her and smiled awkwardly, “i didn’t have much time to think about an answer.”
“i spend most of my time thinking about what i’d say to professor raena if she ever complimented me.”
“that’s because your-“ you suddenly muffle a cough into your hand, “obsessed with her.” you bring out a small packet of tissues from your bag and wipe your nose, nose reddening. logan leans slightly away from you and you roll your eyes.
“you’re not going to catch anything, it’s just allergies.” you lean back and try to continue typing notes but logan continues,
“you should go home, have some medicine, get some sleep.”
“i can’t, i’ve got work.” you whispered, a man in front of you turning around to shoot you with a side eye.
“you’ve told me multiple times that your manager wouldn’t care if you stole from the store. i’ve also told you many times i also don’t care.”
“yeah well… i like working there, that’s all.”
she rolls her eyes again, and waves you off, her long brown hair blocking her disappointed expression from you.
you stayed loyal to your job for two nights, for nothing. sure you got paid, and sure you got to steal some strawberry milk to ease your throat for a couple of minutes, but it felt boring. you actually started to file through the month old magazines you sold for double the price of a new one. you almost made it a third day without dying of allergies (and another secret feeling of sickness you constantly ignored), before you decided you were over it.
you stood up, flipped the door sign so the word ‘open’ faced you, and turned off half of the fluorescent lights before someone was suddenly in the corner of your eyes. spencer was opening the door so quickly you thought you were being robbed, you wouldn’t have seen him if not for the bell ringing on his entry.
“y/n.” he panted, watching your fingers hover over the last light switch. there was two lights left flickering softly above the front door and the check out desk. he looked stoic in the light, dressed in a grey sweater a little too big for him (like his mother had bought it for him telling him he’d grow into it) and black slacks. he seemed to have gotten a trim, his hair just under his ears now. “you don’t close until 1.”
he was confused, eyes wandering with a light hint of relief. like he was happy he didn’t miss you.
“yeah.” is all you said before you turned away from the light switch and returned to the register, assuming he would get his usual. but he didn’t keep walking, he just turned his body to face you. his eyes were expectant, delirious in a way like he needed something from you.
it was silent before the tension literally forced you to speak, “um. i need to close the store before i pass out. so i can uh… get home alive.” you look down and realise the pile of tissues before you was making a mountain, quickly grabbing them and stuffing them in an over filled bin.
“um.” a cat caught his tongue, he looked down to his feet.
spencer was sitting in his desk chair, scrolling on his government provided computer through forums and websites on ‘how to ask out a girl.’ not realising a majority of his team was reading them as well. he heard a small, familiar giggle behind him, quickly closing the tab and turning his head to be met with many other faces. jj slapped garcia on the shoulder with a smile, who’s hand was over her mouth, morgan and emily also smiling. spencer sighed and was about to cover for himself before morgan stepped in,
“look, pretty boy. no websites or article is ever going to teach you how to ask out a girl. they know nothing.”
emily joined, “yeah, none of those things are going to work. i mean, one of those said ‘don’t take no for an answer’. that’s straight up harassment.” she chuckled. morgan walked forward and placed a hand on spencer’s shoulder.
“all you have to do is talk. learn to what she likes, and be confident.”
“that’s easy for you to say.” spencer mumbled.
“who is this girl anyways? who’s taking our genius away from us?” garcia asked, today her hair was adorned with green themed pieces and a small pink flower clip.
spencer couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth perk up when he thought about the girl who worked at the convenience store. the girl who’s report honestly impressed him. the girl who knew his total without looking at the register. the girl who called him good looking without noticing, like it slipped off of her tongue with no second thought. “just someone.”
you were not just someone.
“yeah you should get home. you look terrible.” spencer’s eyes widened as you raised an eyebrow, “no i mean- not terrible- you never look or have ever looked terrible- i just meant today- no you- like you’re sick and obviously- i mean you don’t obviously look terrible- it’s just uh…” he nodded at himself after he noticed a smile creeping onto your face. “you know what i mean.”
“i know i look terrible, thank you.” he was slowly walking up to the register.
“you really should go home, i shouldn’t keep you here because of some coffee.”
you eyes stung and were puffed in redness, you nose dried yet running, eyebrow lines permanent from warding off a migraine. any other customer you would stay for, but you felt less guilty with him. not because you didn’t care, because you knew he did.
“yeah, thank you.” you grabbed your bag, put your empty water bottle into it and walked over to the lights, turning off the last ones, leaving you both in darkness. spencer was waiting for you, quite creepily as he was basically just a block of void. “you sure you don’t need your 3 minute lasagne?” you joked, and he smiled.
“no, this is fine.”
this? them? you thought this man was articulate.
you opened the door with a key-accessed button that automatically locked it after it closed, and walked into the warm streetlight with spencer.
“bye spencer.” you looked up to him only to find his eyes already on you. his face was plain of emotion, except maybe it was just the lighting that made you think he looked disappointed. not at you, at himself. he was silent, hands making their way into his pockets. it was a habit, you had learned. “what’s wrong spencer?” you asked softly, sniffling immediately after.
it was cold, the wind let a stray piece of hair cross your stuffy features.
“do you like old bookstores, y/n?”
you blinked, taken aback. “yeah. i like old bookstores.” you huddled into your sweater, a darker grey compared to his with a large font displaying your university.
“okay, goodbye y/n. see you tomorrow.” he hurried off into his car and you followed him with you eyes in curiosity.
you were already walking away before he could turn around and ask you something, he felt like he had missed his chance. but there would be more. spencer closed his eyes in frustration and took a breath, starting his car before texting the team’s group chat.
“Attempt One failed. 😐👎”
there was a string of messages after but he didn’t read them. all he could think about was the percentage of people who die alone, and then the percentage of people who are like you.
the next night he appeared at the normal time, around nearly 11pm. but he wasn’t the only one, logan was there with you, studying behind you on the floor.
she was bored, and needed to get out of her room, and the only person she knew well enough was you. there in her mens pyjama pants and an over-sized shirt that read ‘RIP Princess Diana’ with a photo of owen wilson on it, her computer warmed her lap and made a soft whirling sound the in the background.
“hi y/n.” spencer waved, he felt bad about last night. you were barely walking straight when you left and he could tell you wouldn’t get out of your ‘work clothes’ (whatever you wanted to wear with a vest over it) before falling onto your mattress, and he drove away. he didn’t even offer to take and walk you home, let alone give you a ride. but his hands were sweating and his heart thumping in his ears, and he couldn’t think straight.
“oh, hi spencer.” you turned from your own textbook splayed on the counter beside you to see spencer and his tall self. a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him.
he wasn’t meeting you eyes. you furrowed your eyebrows for a second before telling him his total with a sniffle.
“i’m sorry for not driving you home,” he lifted his head, a piece of chocolate brown hair crossing his left eye, “or walking you home. or making sure you made it home safe.”
you widened your eyes slightly and sat still before spencer cleared his throat and continued, “i was nervous, about being around you. and my friends- my colleagues- told me i need to be more confident around you so.”
logan had stopped writing, glancing through her bangs up at you both. your mouth was slightly agape before you realised how stupid you looked and how awkward you were making it.
“oh- no it’s okay spencer, you don’t have to say sorry. i was- i’m fine. um,” you tilt your head with the corner of your lips quirking up with little resistance, “you talk about me to your friends?”
spencer nodded, put his hands in his pockets and thought for a second. he wished there was a better place to do this, a better person to take over for him.
all you have to do is talk.
spencer is great at talking.
“did you know that you could be scrolling for seven weeks before you can reach the end of ‘how to ask a girl out’ results on google? i was scrolling for a long time but then my friends told me to just talk and be confident, but i’m only good at one of those thing. so i was trying to ask you out last night but then i- well i failed basically, it isn’t my strong suit,” he took a breath, “so basically i’m saying sorry for not asking you out and not driving you home.”
it was silent, even a customer stopped humming.
“and also your allergy medication isn’t strong enough for your symptoms.” he glanced down to a white and blue box by your hand. you looked down, seeing logan in the corner of your eyes, hand covering her face.
“spencer-“
“dude just ask her out.”
spencer’s face dropped, and he looked over the counter to find another woman sat down, a cringed out expression on her face. his nervousness increased after he realised this wasn’t as private a conversation as he thought. wiping his hand on his vest, he continue with a gulp,
“no i can’t. not here, um. i’ll see you on monday. and i promise i’ll uh- be better? i’ll try again, so. okay see you on monday.” he quickly took his groceries and walked off quite speedily. you watched him walk away and then once he was out of sight, you simply stared at the box of allergy medication on the counter.
logan groaned in the background and said something about growing balls, but it was tv silence for you.
you didn’t know how to go out with someone, your last relationship was in your first year of high school with a guy who thought baby’s came out of a woman’s bum. not that spencer meant he wanted a relationship, no it could just be a friend ‘going out’. totally not romantic.
you slump and stuff your face in your hands. you didn’t care if you hadn’t dated for however long, he didn’t seem to be a man-whore at all. you just cared about how you were actually going to say yes to a man you’ve only talked to inside of an off-brand convenience store on the night shift.
you muffle a scream before the same silent customer placed a carton of milk on the counter.
“$2.50.” you grumble.
you carried logan’s computer bag as she took out a box of strawberry pocky on the sidewalk. the store was locked, the air was crisp, the light was flickering. you didn’t say much until logan couldn’t stand it anymore.
“you know when you’re this silent it’s actually pretty nice, i like peaceful walks home.” you nodded, and continued your racing thoughts with your line of vision stuck on the concrete as you both walked the block to your apartments. she sighed, “but it’s odd. you love talking. a guy likes you and you go mute?”
“his name is spencer, he does something dangerous for a living, he likes old books and drinks a lot of coffee. he gets home late at night, looks skinny but can lift a box of flour above his head with ease. he’s insanely smart and reads poetry, and helped me with my stem cell report.”
you look over at logan who looks a little disgusted but mainly confused.
“he helped me lift that box of flour without me asking. i have no idea who william blake is. i have no idea how he managed to put poetry in a biology report, and i have no idea how he can admit he’s going to ask me out and then not ask me out. his favourite colour is purple, his favourite fruit is grapes but he buys apples because they’re cheaper. and his name is… spencer.”
logan stopped in her tracks, making you copy. you flung out of whatever trance you were stuck in and raised an eyebrow at logan, “what?”
“what? oh no i don’t know, maybe you’ve just never told me about a man you happen to know a lot about, and yet don’t know anything about. you sound insane- not in the ‘loony-bin way’, in the romcom way. it’s disgusting.”
you both continued to walk, climbing the stairs to the foyer of your building before she took back her bag and gave you the pocky, mumbling, “you need these more than me.”
the elevator ride was mostly silent, and that continued before you both unlocked your apartment doors right beside each other.
“you need to ask him out, if he doesn’t do it first.” she entered her apartment before you could speak, let alone think.
suddenly your apartment felt lonely.
so did spencer’s.
he was cross legged on his plush couch on a call with penelope garcia, she was squealing every second minute trying to create a plan for spencer to ask someone out.
“spence, you’re making this very hard. how am i supposed to be your coach if i only have half a team?”
“you can find someone’s address with half a fingerprint, i think you’ll be fine.” he takes a bite of his 2 minute bolognese.
“that takes the fun out of it. i can only give you tips if i know her personality.”
spencer sighed, and thought for a second, he could practically hear penelope’s growing smile knowing she had won.
“her names y/n.” garcia squealed. “she’s smart and pretty. and her favourite colour’s purple and she studies biology. she knows my groceries off my heart and she’s allergic to pollen. she works late at night at the convenience store two blocks away from my apartment building, and she likes old book stores. she’ll be introverted around an extroverted person, but extroverted around an introverted person. she can read my expressions faster than anyone else, she tries out different hairstyles when nobody’s in the store, and she’s funny.” spencer smiles to himself, “she’s pretty.”
“you mentioned that, lover boy.”
pt.4
taglist: @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @trashmonstersara @wannabewolf @evysian @navs-bhat @mywellspringoflife @daphnesutton @smalls155 @amortencjja @anuncalledbridge @belsreid @redmurderbaby @tatilolz @criminalmindsandhouse @forensicuntology @nomajdetective @ilikw @screechingphantommaker
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irndad · 1 year
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in every other life- s.r.
a/n: my soul is in this mf fic. there's a lil sexual tension lol! this is a behemoth of pining. so much fucking pining. this guy needs you like air wtf!! ALSO the poem is from a book, the lover's dictionary by david levithan. summary: the love of spencer's life is also his best friend, and she goes on a few dates. he does not handle it well, internally. ft. metaphysics by our dear genius boy. wc: 3.3k (holy shit)
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While he recognizes that no direct injustice has actually been done to him, he can’t help but feel that it’s so unfair. 
Because Spencer had never actually wanted much of anyone, actually. He was too much of a child through his entire education, and he’d found anyone that he’d even consider had almost instantly had dismissed him. He’d grown used to a life where companionship wasn’t a desire that crossed his mind. 
But he wanted her. 
His lovely friend, his coworker, who was the kind of lovely that it feels unfair you’d ever have to take your eyes off of. She’s the best person he’s ever met, the sort of wonderful you read about but never convince yourself you’ll ever see. He knows the shape of her, has her form memorized from watching, waiting for her to step into the office every day.  
It was only a matter of time until he wasn’t the only one with his eye on her. 
She’s actually absurdly easy to want. There’s nights where they watch something, often what he picked, Doctor Who or some other science fiction which would be great if he could focus on anything but her. Her warm disposition ruminating his too-small apartment with a kind of light that follows his every movement. He’d adore her even if she wasn’t, but it’s impossible to ignore how beautiful she is- the kind of pretty that you hardly expect to see in real life. 
“Hey you,” her so-sweet voice is what breaks him out of his daydreaming, and he looks up at her lovely face smiling down at him. Fondness seeps through her tone, and it’s everything he can do not to preen that her first thought at seeing him is one of pleasure. 
“Hey back,” he says, greeting her with a warm grin of his own. “How was your weekend?”
It’s a calculated question. 
She had canceled their weekly movie night. He’d tried not to look too disappointed, like the idea of her next to him on his couch, of her nimble fingers raking through his unkempt hair while something nice, but far less wonderful than his company played in the background wasn’t all that was keeping him going. These days, and he knows it’s likely delusion, that she sometimes seems to gaze back at him with a similar sort of desperation, hooded eyes and tenderness. 
It’s a liminal space, those nights. How can people be two things at once? You cannot be both in love and not. In the low-light of his place, under his blanket- it’s like Schrodinger’s experiment. She can’t love him like a friend and more at the same time- it resists the laws of physics. She is his best friend, a fact he knows as sure as gravity and the elements, and believing anymore than that- it’s asserting an impossibility. 
When they’re alone together, though. It seems like the impossible exists. 
But she’d canceled it, something she hadn’t done for the months they’d been engaging in their little tradition. So there had to be a reason. She sits next to him, her desk next to his. 
She looks a little disheveled, only in an adorable way- but a little like she’s been busy, like her flow is disrupted.
“It was good! I finally went out with that guy Penelope’s been begging me to let her set me up with.”
It’s all that he can do not to freeze up. 
Penelope has been trying to get her to go out with her friend Ben, which Spencer thinks is a stupid name, by the way, and secretly he’d been so, so pleased when she had brushed off the invite. It’s a dangerous thing, hope. He tries not to have too much of it, tries to savor the thought of her, of more for moments of particular vulnerability. It’s treacherous, to want her the way he does. He knows he can’t let himself feel it all the way. 
And logistically- romance is not a reason for a valid reason for him to be panicking the way he is, but all he can think about is the physics. Two opposite things cannot be true at the same time. 
“You know, studies suggest that even now, the majority of couples are meeting in person or through friends over any other medium.” 
It hurts to say. She’s part of a couple, one half a whole that he doesn’t complete. 
“Seriously? I’d have thought it’d changed by now. I guess it’s safer to date someone you know.”
She’d date someone she knew? Is that what she prefers? 
“How did it go?” He hears Emily ask, and this conversation is already the bane of his existence.
“Guys, it really wasn’t a big deal! We got dinner, it was just a little thing.”
Spencer isn’t experienced in dating, but he does know that dinner is a serious date. Coffee is a smaller thing, but dinner-
Dinner means she got pretty for him. Probably picked out a dress for the evening, spent time on a carefully manicured look. Spent hours of her precious, rare, time on him. 
It’s not fair how much he fucking hates this guy. 
“Dinner is not nothing!” Penelope squeals, and he would love to share in her excitement, except it kind of feels like a piece of his heart is being shredded. 
“Dinner means coming up to my place, have coffee, oh look who doesn’t have her hair done-“
Please kill me, he thinks. Please. 
“Oh, that definitely did not happen.”
Thank god. 
Except he can’t miss her flush, how her expression shifts- and he has the sickening feeling he’d be hearing that guy’s name again. 
When they all settle around the table, her doe eyes focused on gruesome images that were the exact antithesis of her spirit, he couldn’t help but feel that even if it hurt, there was finality. 
The cat was out of the box. Two things cannot be true at once, and so only one is- she does not love him, at least not the way he does. 
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Ben, is not in fact, going away. 
If he had more willpower or self-preservation, Spencer would keep his distance from her, but the truth of it is that as much as he wants to be the person she turns to, her smile is most of why he can stand his job anymore. 
It’s a Tuesday, and everyone is grumbling about being pulled in early in the morning, but he’s just happy to have a reason to leave the house.
“Spence!” He hears her excited voice carry, the pretty sound picking his ears up at once. “I got you coffee. It’s hazelnut, and it’s like, 90% sugar. You’re gonna love it.”
She beams at him, and he takes it in his hands. Their hands brush, and he tries so hard not to notice how soft her hands are. Her name is on the cup, and an unconsenting fantasy of her name meaning that he’s hers creeps into his mind before he can bat it away.  
But her cup says Ben. 
“Thanks,” he says her name, tries to sound measured and friendly. “Coffee date?”
She preens, and god, if this guy doesn’t get how lucky he is it might be thing thing that actually sends him over the edge after all these years.
“Just a quick thing, we were just in the same place and he bought me a coffee, I’d already gotten yours.”
If there’s two roles he can fill and he doesn’t get to pick, if he’s stuck with friends, he’s gonna be great at it, and he’s gonna be grateful. Because knowing her is a grace in itself, the kind of thing you should could yourself so lucky to have. 
“He sounds like a great guy,” he hears himself say, “I’m glad you’re doing this.”
It’s the right thing to say. He’s sure of it. The thing he’s not sure of is why the smile she offers him doesn’t reach her eyes. 
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The next time he notices the cracks in their relationship, it’s when they’re out. She’d suggested this bookstore-cafe kind of thing, and he’d jumped at the thought, all of his favorite things in one afternoon. He’d felt foolish spending so much time picking out his outfit out, wearing the blazer she’d once complimented-he’d actually stuttered so hard in thanks that Morgan laughed for a full minute when she left the room- but she always looked beautiful, and he knows he sometimes pales in comparison. 
“Oh, I love this one!” She thumbs over the spine of a thin book of poetry. She’s wearing a forest green sweater that hugs her frame, and a bracelet hangs on her delicate wrist. He loves looking at her, though he tries to conceal it. His goal of being a supportive friend includes trying not to make it that known how gone for her he is. 
“I don’t read too much poetry,” he admits, “But I’m sure you have excellent taste.” 
Her keen eyes skim through the pages intently, clearly seeking out a specific passage before stopping, gaze alight with recognition. 
Her tone is molasses-sweet when she begins reading, and his heart skips a beat.
“When I say be my lover,” her voice hitches, reverent of the quote and he is reverent of her, “ I don’t mean ‘let’s have an affair. I don’t mean Sleep with me. I don’t mean Be my secret. I want us to go back to that root. I want you to be the one who loves me. I want to be the one who loves you.”
It feels impossible to look away from her, doe eyes practically sparkling in the low light of the shop, and there it is. His heart’s in his throat. Of all the things you could have told Spencer he’d experience, hearing her lovely voice wrap around the words be my lover in hushed tone, in sacred sweetness, would never ever be one he’d guess. 
He’s not sure how he feels about the multiverse theory, but right now, he can feel all the versions of himself pressing right up against him. Can see into lives he doesn’t get to live, lifetimes where his love isn’t a buried, worn-out tattered thing to keep his ever-frigid chest warm. Versions of himself that in this very moment can smile back at her, warm and open and kind, and kiss her perfect smile. 
Because he would be her lover. He would come home to her, spend the rest of his life building a home that she could fit  into. It’d be easy, actually. She’s easy to imagine- nights of laughing in a shared kitchen, evenings where her company is a fine wine, sipped at leisure with the comfort of knowing it’s never going to slip from your grasp. 
“I like that,” he says, voice too vulnerable for his own good, eyes unable to tear from the eye contact. “I really like that.” 
In the root of it, he already is her lover. He is the one who loves her. She’s just not his. 
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It comes to a head on a Friday. It’s a few weeks from he book shop, and the air feels heavier between them now. The last handful of Fridays he’s sat with the ghost of what used to be their plans, empty time lingering where in its’ place used to be her company. 
He doesn’t know if she’s been with Ben. He tries not to think about it. 
The sound of her voice lingers in his mind, sweet and bitter in his mind like old lemon candy, the kind his mother would save for special occasions. He’d spend any amount of money he had to hear her lovely voice say those words to him out of the context of a poem. 
At work, they seem almost normal. Like one of them wasn’t desperately in love with the other; like a genius and his lovely, incredibly empathetic, kind best friend. In the field, their actions flow together seamlessly. She is always the first to listen and to understand (and god, isn’t it intoxicating to have someone meet you in understanding) and there is nothing to suspect is off.
But there’s still a cloud lingering. The poem- the soft melody of her voice curling around the words, the request of it all, the way she had sounded so wanting- and then, there’s Ben. 
She doesn’t mention Ben to him, of course, but Penelope does. Penelope, all bows and bright colors and cheeriness keeps bringing the absolute worst news to Spencer with a smile on her face. 
He’s taking her out for drinks! Oh, he’s reading her favorite book, do you know what it is?
This anger isn’t an emotion that he’s familiar with. A roar of possessiveness, the bite of it not tempered at all by rationality. Has he touched her?
It seems almost a tradition at this point when she shakes him out of his jealous storm of thought.
“Spence?” she muses, “You alright?” They’re alone at his desk, everyone having fled for their own evening and weekend plans. This was one of the Fridays that she had agreed to spend with him, and he wonders if he’ll be able to handle the scent of her shampoo so close after such a lapse of the sensation. Will all of his judgement go where he can’t follow?
“Yeah,” he says, tucking his papers into his bag, “I’m excited for tonight.”
His place is actually a short walk from the office. He’d been embarrassed to show her the place at first. It’s all function over fashion, and a bit cramped, but she’d looked at as though it was made of something more, something good. She didn’t even tease him. It had actually been her idea, to start these movie nights. 
Ironic, really. 
The walk was pleasant, the weather a little frigid but still nice, and she looks beautiful under the setting sun. It’s incredible to him, how her lashes catch the light and make her irises look like polished stained glass. His favorite color. Through the looking glass of another life, he sees a version of himself that gathers her up in his arms. In this daydream, she grants him one of her smiles that seems to carry its’ own light, and leans into his body like it’s the only thing that keeps her steady. It’s so clear. On the other side of the veil, he kisses her reddening nose, and keeps her warm himself. 
In the here and now, Her coat is long, and hangs low by her ankles. It’s an elegant thing, like the woman who wears it, and Spencer would be grateful for a lifetime of just looking.They stop in front of his door, some invisible force stopping him from entering. 
She sheds the coat inside his home. It smells like the candle she got him for his birthday, a reminder of her grace. He’s saved a bottle of wine for them, a sweet thing for the sweetest thing he’s known. 
“I’m sorry,” she speaks the warmth of the beverage on her tongue, and it should feel abrupt but it doesn’t.
“What for?” He can’t imagine what she would have to apologize for. 
“I know things have been…off between us,” she says carefully, considering the phrasing of each word. He watches her with a reverence, his hazel eye brimming with affection with nowhere to go. “You’ve been so great through it.”
Her legs are thrown across his own, and she’s dangerously close to sitting in his lap, but not exactly. He’s missed having her this close, the last time she’d been in his orbit was before she’d had reason to be gone. She smells floral. He fights With limited filtering through his already treacherous mind he thinks, He can’t take this from me. I still get her like this. 
“I’m not entirely sure what it is.” 
She slowly shuts her eyes, go for a moment to somewhere he can’t follow. Her cheeks are rosy from the cold. 
“This whole Ben thing.”
“Oh.”
Logically, it always had to come back to this. Someone else had the good fortune to know her like this, to be the person she reads poetry to in deep meaning to. 
He’s been stealing moments from someone who’s not his to take them from. 
“I don’t even know how I wanted you to react.” she murmurs, staring at the rim of her glass. 
“I just want you to be happy” His voice is something low, grit in the sound of it. His hand rests on her thigh. There’s warmth blanketing the room and he wants to kiss her. He wants to kiss her all the time. 
She laughs, but it’s not her normal laugh. It’s tinny and a little bitter. He pushes his luck, and reaches out to brush the side of her face, moving the hair but still holding her face. Her breath smells like strawberry wine and temptation. 
It feels different tonight. Low light and tension that could be sliced with wire. Every part of her is in reach, and something in the air makes all of this talk of relativity, of physics, moot. 
Like maybe he’s not in the only world they don’t end up together. 
Her face is warm and soft under his touch and he loves the sight of her. He’s never touched her like this. Every point of contact feels electric, addicting. 
“What is it? The Ben thing?” He doesn’t know what he’s expecting to hear. What he wants, is for her to tell him that it doesn’t matter anymore, that she picks him-
“I only went out with him the once.”
“What?”
“I told Penelope I was still going because it made her happy and she said I couldn’t keep going to your apartment and reading you poetry and call that romance.”
Romance? 
Wasn’t it romance, though? 
Her eyes widen in something akin to horror. 
“Shit, Spence- I’m sorry, that is so fucked of me to say-“
“You,” he tries to say calmly, “aren’t going out with Ben.”
She blinks. 
“No?”
He has spent so much time living in other lives, existing in the minds of versions of himself he wasn’t lucky enough to be. Drinking coffee imagine a life colored in her presence, falling asleep yearning for the presence of something lighter than what he has to carry. 
He can’t exist in two places. That was the entire basis of the experiment. 
He moves his other hand to hold hers, and somehow she’s shifted to being on top of him, and he looks up at her with unwavering desire. 
Spencer isn’t good at wanting people, but it comes naturally with her. Less of an action and more an urge, a course of motion to which he is at the mercy of. This is what leads him to close the gap between them, and kiss her. It’s 
Her delicate fingers run through his hair, and she can’t be close enough, please, and he could spend the rest of his life kissing her, actually. He probably will spend the rest of his life thinking about the soft sigh he pulls out of her. 
“I want it to be me,” he manages to say through shallow breath, still so close that his lips brush hers every other word, “I want to be the one you pick. I want it to be me.” His hazel eyes seem to shift in the moment, swirling with emotion. 
She brushes a lock of his overgrown hair out of his face. He normally shaves when he sees her, but he’d been so busy that he’d forgotten, and felt embarrassed of it now. That is, until she runs her index finger along the edge of his jawline.
It’s then she leans down and kisses him again, pliant and good, his hands around her waist. He breathes a prayer into her mouth, one that hopes that she never ever comes to her senses about him. 
“Spence,” she says, her voice golden silk, a kindness.  “There was never anyone else to pick.” 
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sinsirellaxx · 6 months
Note
Hello! If you don’t do NSFW requests feel free to ignore or delete my ask, but I was wondering if you could do Toxic Slytherin Boys NSFW hcs?
Slytherin Boys – NSFW Headcanons
Warning: Toxic boys! NSFW topics
A/N: I won't be able to post as much – just wanted to let you know! Also: I'm currently not accepting new requests because I still have a few to work on. 😊
Have fun reading!
Mattheo …
… told you he couldn’t be in a relationship without sex. If you’re alright with that – no problem. If you aren’t (bc of religion or whatever) he’d be frustrated. He’ first try and guilt you into sleeping with him and if that doesn’t work, he’ll threaten to break it off with you.
… “I’ll marry you anyway, so what’s the deal?”
… would want to be intimate with you all the time. Doesn’t matter if he’s angry and he needs to let off some steam, if he’s just horny or whenever he needs reassurance or is jealous.
… wouldn’t be gentle. Not even during your first time – because he’d just not be as sensible.
… prefers to be on top with you bent over – likes the control and power he has over you.
… will immediately question your loyalty if you deny him the pleasures of your body.
… “You’re my girlfriend. If not you – who else will take care of my needs?”
Theodore …
… is a wild card: can be either crazy rough or intimidatingly sensual and soft. It depends on his mood.
… wants you to go down on him but he refuses to do the same.
… places your hand on his crotch whenever you are alone.
… does not really care if you aren’t in the mood – he’ll start kissing and caressing you either way.
… wants you to use birth control because he doesn’t want to wrap it “It feels weird around my dick”.
… loves having you on top, whenever he feels lazy. He’ll lean back against his propped-up pillows and enjoy you squirm on his lap.
Lorenzo …
… will persuade you to do things you don’t feel comfortable with.
… will want to try out different and maybe more daring things.
… will only eat you out if you blow him first “You have to earn it, baby.”
… loves leaving marks in visible places – even better if you don’t notice them until someone points them out.
… smirks whenever you open your legs for him.
… wants you to dress up in pretty lingerie for him.
… will fuck you while his roommates are sleeping – without the muffliato charm – he wants to be heard.
… “Shh, baby – it’s okay. My roommates won’t hear.”
Draco …
… acts like his dick is magical.
… cannot get you to peak but will act like you did have the best orgasm ever.
… rolls his eyes whenever you say it hurts but will still wait for you to adjust – until he gets too impatient.
… is mostly lazy, so he’ll want you to ride him most of the time.
… refuses to kiss you after you suck him off.
Blaise …
… every ‘date’ ends in sex.
… only ever calls you first because he wants to have sex.
… is not that much into foreplay – he’s more of a dip it and leave it kind of guy.
… randomly pulls you into empty rooms to push you onto your knees.
… “Show me how much you love me”
Tom …
… uses sex to relax after a long day.
… he also won’t go down on you but will expect you to worship his body. “You’re lucky I want you.”
… always degrades you and makes you believe that he is the best man you could ever have and that you are below him.
… never ‘hears’ the safe word whenever you use it “I didn’t hear you, doll. Be louder next time.”
… secretly loves when you’re bratty because that means he can put you in your place.
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lure-of-writing · 5 months
Text
Little Sister; Just Peachy
Summary: After sparring with Cassian you feel just peachy
Note: ya'll Im not going to lie the scene with Rhys in the living room got me in my feels 😭. But don't worry your little hearts we will absolutely will be seeing this from Ariel's point of view. As always I cannot wait to hear what you guys think!
(please read all in a days work , knock before you enter, and his little sister first!)
Word count: 2.9k
Warning: Mentions of having tiny frames but only in reference to being a child
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Ever since your visit from the summer court something with both your brother and Azriel has been off. Rhys for the first time in your life has been avoiding you and suddenly you could never seem to catch Azriel at the right time. It was starting to annoy you to no end. “Well good morning to you too, sunshine.” Cassian looked over to where Nesta was stretching with the rest of the girls as if to ask her about your negative attitude. In return she just shrugged and welcomed you into the circle of stretches with everyone else. Today was all about fighting and since Cassian's counterpart was nowhere to be found it was up to you to help Cassian demonstrate the fighting techniques that had been practiced for a few weeks now. You were known to be a person who refrained from fighting and going into battle but that doesn’t mean that you weren’t capable of doing so. You were only one hundred years younger than your brother, it was safe to say that you had some experience with fighting. 
The roof of the house of wind was quiet except for the occasional gust of wind along with Cassian's booming voice explaining how this match would go and the things then needed to pay attention to before each of them went toe to toe with either you or Cass.  Finally after he was done giving instructions he turned and faced you. “You know I’m not going to go easy on you right.”  scoffing your head tilts to the side “Yeah that's because your mate is over there giving you bedroom eyes and you want to impress her.” Once again his boisterous laugh filled the space of the open room giving it more warmth. Nothing more was said as you both got into fighting stances and prepared to walk away with some bruises. 
The fight hadn't been going on for more than five minutes when you swore that you saw Azriel landing on the roof and watched as you and Cassian went back and forth throwing and dodging punches. Now you couldn’t say for sure because as soon as you took your eyes off your opponent to spare a glance where you thought Azriel was standing, Cassian's fist made contact with your cheek and subsequently you were laying on the matt looking into the sky completely dazed. 
Cassian never meant to actually punch you. He knew exactly how you fight, he knows your tells and the next move that you would usually make but he didn’t know that you were going to turn your face at just the right moment and his powerful punch would connect with your face. Both you and Cassian knew the strength that he possessed and usually he would never fight you using that unlimited well of strength but the purpose of the match was to demonstrate how to use each part of your body to increase your strength when sparring. 
Nesta was sitting on the ground right next to you with your head in her lap holding a cold hand on your sure to swell cheek and busted lip. From your point of view she was upside down. Even like this you thought she looked stunning. Gently she stroked your hair when telling you that you were going to be ok. Deep down you knew that you would in fact be ok but right now your head was ringing and your face hurt and you were pretty sure a tear was running down your face from the pain. Off to the side of you Cassain was shitting his pants. Not only had he hit the person who he views as a little sister, he hit you with his full force. He was grateful he did break any of your bones. But that wasn’t his only problem; he hit Rhysands little sister. Cassian was sure that he just signed his death certificate. 
Rhysand was in his office with Azirel getting the report from his latest mission when he heard Cassian in his head. “Rhys?” The tone was a question as well as a grimace “Yes?” Rhys raised a finger to stop Azriel from continuing on. “Can you come up to the house of wind?” Sighing he looked at Azriel before rolling his eyes. “Can it wait? I'm currently in the middle of getting a report from Az.” a beat of silence passed in Rhys mind before  the quiet voice of his brother came back in “It’s y/n” 
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Cassian could hear the beating of two sets of wings before he could see them. It didn't take a genius to know that they were flying at max speed. Cassian took a big breath and held it for a few seconds before blowing it out between thinly pressed lips. This would probably be the last time that he could breath normally for a while. Just as the two males touched down he glanced over to where his mate was still cradling your head and periodically removing her hand to look at the bruising and your split lip to see how bad it was getting. 
Rhysand hadn’t even landed when his eyes locked on your body laying flat on the mat with Nesta holding your head. As soon as his feet touched the hard surface of the roof he was pouncing on Cassian with questions. “What the hell happened to her? Why is she laying on the mat with Nesta holding her face?”  Cassian said nothing as he folded his high lord to where his sister lay. He knew as soon as Rhys saw your face he would be done for. Rhysand wouldn’t need any answers to his questions, he would know exactly what happened and who did it. Azriel fell in place with Cassian behind Rhys as they made their way to where you were lying and he glanced at his brother for a second with an eyebrow raised as if to ask what happened. Cassian just grimaced and shook his head. Azriel would also know what happened as soon as Nesta removed her hand from your face. 
Cassian stayed back a few steps as Rhys bent down to get a closer look at you. Azriel was on the other side. “Nesta move your hand.” She didn’t do so, “Before I do you need to know that it was an accident and–” The tone of Rhysands words that came next left no room for discussion. “I said remove your hand.” The power in the high lord's voice raged over her like the waves of an ocean before a hurricane. She hated how the power made her bend to his will. Quietly she removed her hand as both males took in your face. The bruising has officially started to begin. All of your right cheek was painted with colors of red, purple and spots of dark red where the blood vessels broke. The bruising also danced along your cheekbone and around your eye, presumably from the impact, and down towards your jaw. Right where the bruising meets your lip is where it was split open and now had dried blood crusting along the open cut and down your chin. 
After taking in your appearance Rhysand stood to his full high he turned around to look at the other male. “Cassian” his voice was cool and emotionless, the voice of a high lord. “Did you do this to my sister?” As much as it sounded like a question both males knew it was not. It was more like an interrogation. 
As Nesta watched from afar as her mate and her brother-in-law were preparing to have at it she prodded in her sister's mind. “Feyre you need to come to the house of wind.” She paused for a moment as she listened to Cassian try to explain himself and what happened. “Now.” she added. Her attention was pulled from the fight that was sure to happen in a few moments with the jostling of your body beneath her hand. Looking down again she sees Azriel gently pull your body into his being as careful as possible as not to cause you any more pain. Nesta was sure that you were too out of it to feel more pain, as you didn’t even respond when she called out your name and your eyes were too unfocused and dazed to notice anything happening around you, still she thought the gesture was sweet. 
“Where are you taking her?” Even though she wanted to go wherever Az was taking you she knew that she needed to be here when Rhys was done with her mate. To nurse him back to health. Or bring him back from the dead, whichever happened first. “She needs to be seen by Madja.” She nods her head in agreement as glances back over to her mate. She was sure the blood bath would start at any second. “I agree.” Finally after getting you into a position in Azirels arms that he deemed safe enough he shot off into the air and towards Madja’s clinic just as her sister flew in. Frantically Feyre looks at where her mate and her brother-in-law stood a few feet away brawling. “What the hell happened?” Nesta glanced down at her younger sister before returning her gaze to the fight. “Cassian accidentally punched y/n in the face and knocked her out.” Feyre felt her jaw drop all while turning to look at her older sister who just shrugged her shoulders in nonchalance. 
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When you woke up the first thing you noticed was the pounding headache ravaging your mind, the next thing you noticed was the excruciating pain in your face and jaw. Whatever happened to you must have been pretty bad for you to be feeling this way. Especially with fae healing. After cataloging the different types of pain and discomfort you were feeling you took in your surroundings. Plush big bed, the soothing smell of your brother's cologne, and paintings of Nyx, Feyre and your brother decorated the walls. You were in your brother's room. You must have been hurt pretty bad for you to wake up in a room that wasn’t your own. Closing your eyes again in hopes of soothing the pain inside your head you take a few deep breaths while you were at it. 
Reluctantly you pushed the warm blankets off your body and made your way into the bathroom. The soft glow of faelights illuminated the bathroom and casted it into warmth. The setting sun on the horizon told you that you apparently had been out for most of the day, if not a day or two. Turning to look in the mirror you gasp at the sight in front of you. “Oh” a beat of silence “I look like shit.”  gently you press a finger into the dark purple, blue and black bruise covering most of the right side of your face. You cringe back at the pain your prodding had induced. It took you a few seconds of staring at your own reflection to remember what had caused this but eventually you remembered. 
You were sparring with Cassian in hand to hand combat and while the two of you were circling each other you could have swore you saw Azriel in the corner of your eye. Going to confirm it you turned your head to the right as Cassian's arm made a big and powerful swing and made contact with your face. After that you can’t remember anything. Giving it another once over you shrugged “At least he didn’t break my face.” you muttered to yourself before making your way out of the room and down to the kitchen or living room. You knew that you would only make it to one or the other before somebody was destined to stop you. 
You got as far as the living room. Rhysand sat in a chair as he watched his wife and son play on the floor. The soft padding of your feet on the marble floors pulled him from his silent brooding. You watched from the entrance of the room and your brother practically shot up from his seat and in three quick strides stood in front of you. “ You're awake!” Even though you knew he meant it as a statement it felt more like a question. “Yeah?” You watched as your brother sighed in relief before gently pulling you into his arms. One arm around your back and the other stroking your hair. He made sure the unbruised part of your face rested on his chest. Returning the hug you arm your arms around the waist of your brother wrapping each hand around your forearms and your rest your complete weight against him. For a few seconds nothing was said as he gently rocked you back in front in the same spot. 
Silently he pulls back to examine your face. You watch as his eyes take in the much darker welt on your face and the slowly closing fractured lip. He releases another sigh before once again pulling you back into him. “How are you feeling?” his tone in gentle and soft, knowing just how much your head probably hurts. Rhys had also been on the receiving end of Cassian's powerful strike, more times then he would like to admit. “My head feels like it's been cracked in two and my face feels like it might of been shattered but other than that I feel just peachy.” you felt the rumbling of your brother's chest before you heard the soft laughter.  “I’m glad to see Cassian didn’t cause any brain damage.” Now it was your turn to laugh. 
 A peaceful quiet settled over the two of you and for a second you enjoyed it. Closing your eyes you listened to the steady heartbeat of your brother's heart, and for a second it reminded you of when you were a child. Any time you were scared or just in need of your brother's love you would seek him out and cling to him like your life depended on it. And without questioning he would simply wrap his arms around your tiny frame while you rested your head against his chest listening to the soothing sounds of his heartbeat until you fell asleep. 
Those memories are some of the ones you hold closest to your heart and the current situation reminded you of when you were a child. Gently you knocked on the barely there shield of Rhys mind, he welcomes you in with open arms and there you show him all those precious memories this moment reminded you of. Some things are for certain and one of those things is sometimes you just need the love and comfort of your brother. Gently he squeezes your body closer into his own while still rocking you back and forth before placing part of his cheek and chin on top of your head. “Should we get you something to eat?” he all but whispers into the space above your head. Nodding your face against your chest the two of you pull away from each other after a few seconds. Rhysand keeps his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he leads you into the kitchen. He may not be a great cook and usually avoids the kitchen like it had the plague but for his little sister he would do anything. Even if that meant potentially burning his house down. 
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It was a few days of living with your brother at his house before he thought you were ok enough to return back to the house of wind. That was only after Madja had even the ok that you would be good enough to survive the flight up there. You rolled your eyes behind his back as he talked with Madja. It was less than a five minute flight from his house to the top of the house of wind. If all else failed and you felt bad during the flight you would squeeze your eyes shut and pray you don’t throw up. 
When you finally returned to your house you were surprised to see it empty. “Where is everyone?” you asked as your brother trailed behind you while entering the living room. “Nesta is with Feyre and Nyx shopping and Cass and Az are currently on a mission.” settling into the couch you glance over your shoulder at your very sweet but protective brother “Back to calling him Cass? That must mean you no longer feel like murdering him.” you watch as your brother makes himself comfortable on the couch across from you. “I’m still not happy with him but that doesn’t mean I hate him either.” 
The room fills with silence yet again. “Why were you even sparring with him in the first place?” Furrowing your brows you look at him confused. “Uh because Azriel wasn’t there to do it? It was supposed to be the two of them but I guess something came up and no one else there has enough years of experience with the technique the Valkyries were learning so I stepped in to help.” It was now your brother's turn to furrow his eyebrows in confusion. “I didn’t give him anything to do so I don’t know why he wasn’t there.” Shrugging you look around before answering. “I mean he is a spymaster. I’m sure he has things that we don't get the privilege to know.”
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Taglist: @kemillyfreitas @lana08 @willowpains @username199945 @tothestarsandwhateverend
@kylaisra @lilah-asteria @nickishadow139 @br0klynbby @blacktreacle22
@amysangel
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a-b-riddle · 5 months
Note
I'm just going to ask this because I need to get it out of my head. This is all in regards to your Poly141 x Reader series going on. I'm just going to recap things first.
-Price got verbally eviscerated because of all the times he got short/snapped at the reader because he came into their bookstore that they bought with their own money, put their own blood, sweat and tears into fixing up and had THE AUDACITY to call them immature for trying to break things off cleanly like a MATURE adult in a space that's RIGHTFULLY THEIRS because he couldn't be an adult admit how he shouldn't of been treating the reader like one of his men.
-Soap showing up trying to apologize and then thinking with his dick because of how the reader got dressed up for a dinner date and got a taste of his own medicine when the reader just hit it and quit it without so much as a thank you, or a goodbye kiss and basically told him to clean up, get dressed and kick rocks.
-Gaz shows up after weeks of just flaking out of any dates and just being a ghost (ironic considering Ghost's callsign) trying to talk to the reader in person when the reader had tried for months to just get a glimpse of him only to be told he couldn't right now but could another time. Then the reader just tell him, 'yeah sorry no. I don't have time for you and your mates nonsense at the moment, just swing by to get your stuff when it works for you'.
-Ghost showing up whenever the reader is in trouble and getting them away from danger only to disappear shortly afterward and give the reader radio silence. The one time that the reader tried to seek him out for just a SHRED of comfort and he just told them, 'You're only good for what's in between your legs love, you knew what you were getting into. You should've known better.'
With all this mind, I want Ghost to have everything and the kitchen sink thrown at him. I want him to be told in no kind words that his words and lack of realizing how fucked up the things he said to the reader were was the straw that broke the camel's back. I want the reader to hurl everything that they didn't say to Price to Ghost. I want him to realize in no unclear terms how if he didn't fuck up so royally and had actually attempted to give the reader a fraction of what he was being given, things would be so much better. And for some extra salt on the wound, have the reader tell him that they suppose that when it comes to his line of work, he's pretty good at breaking anything and everything he touches. It's just a shame that for anything that involves a softer touch, he winds up breaking it beyond repair.
I just love narrative/reflective irony and can't wait for the next part and wish you well for making it to the end of this ramble. 🥰
I'm throwing up.
I am so happy that y'all got it without me having to say it. YES! She is giving everything back that they gave her. John's outbursts, Johnny's lack of aftercare and Kyle's flakiness.
I will say this which I think is interesting. Simon said something hellllla shitty and unforgivable. Like it was mean and something once you say you can't take back. I will ask this and feel free to go back and re-read.
What else did Simon do? Before the phone call, what else did Simon do to reader? We know Simon wanted to hurt reader. Why? Did he plan
Spoiler below, read at own caution
Or was he just sick of being the only one out of the four guys to actually contribute to the relationship and knew he needed to be the one to drive it home that there isn't a future with them? Reader refers to Simon several times as her body guard or guard dog... But never a boyfriend or partner.
In flashbacks, we see that Simon only ever came over at night. You'll find out why in the next few chapters, but as much as I love y'all hating on Simon, I cannot WAIT for y'all to get to the why.
And remember kiddos, hurt people hurt people.
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seresinhangmanjake · 11 months
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The One I Want: Part 3
Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Plus size!reader
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Summary: You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.
Notes/Warnings: cursing, maybe. I don't think anything else. Sorry if there are typos.
Words: 1720
The One I Want Masterlist
---
Jake Seresin is a wizard. Or a mind-reader. Or some creature with wildly sensitive hearing. You’re sure of it. 
In the month since you moved into the apartment, your only moments alone come when you lock yourself in your bedroom. Otherwise, Jake is near you—sitting next to you, looking at you, talking to you. If your door opens, he follows not five seconds later. If you sit down at the island with your breakfast of bland cereal, he enters the kitchen within two minutes to prepare his own meal; the same meal every morning. Eggs, Canadian bacon, and a protein shake. If you dare to switch the television on, turns out he’s been meaning to watch that show for weeks. You had no idea he was into movie special effects competitions. 
It isn’t irritating, exactly—though, it wouldn’t shock you if others experiencing similar treatment would feel that way. You just can’t figure him out. He’s unfigure-outable. You’re pretty sure that’s a thing. If not, Jake Seresin just brought it into existence. And here you thought you were the mystery. 
“So I was thinking,” he says. 
You close your book without a second thought, having barely read and retained a line in the last fifteen minutes anyway. From the moment he came out of his room and plopped down on the couch—his leg bouncing and eyes trained ahead on nothing—you’ve been waiting for him to snap the tense band of silence between you.
His fingers clasp together, thumbs subtly twiddling when he finally looks over to you. “Maybe you could meet my friends. They’ve asked about you, and you’ve already met Nat so it’s really only the guys.”
That was perhaps one of the last things you imagined he would say. You’ve heard very little of his friends. They’re also pilots. His team. They all have weird nicknames. Half of those nicknames are animals. 
There are other tidbits Jake casually mentioned as well. Coyote is his closest friend. There’s a Rooster who recently found himself a chick. A Bob and a Phoenix—who you learned is Nat—are particularly attached. 
But every bit of that information you figured he was simply spilling to fill moments where you were in the same room but not speaking. Or perhaps it’s some method to draw out feelings of trust so you might participate in his little game of show and tell. In his eyes is always the hope that you’ll share something of your own, but you have yet to find the courage or need to do so. 
“Oh,” you reply, trying to gather the correct words to turn him down. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not really up to meeting a group of people today.”
You hate the way his face falls. Like a puppy denied a treat. But it lasts only a second as another thought brightens the green hue of his irises. 
“What if we went somewhere? You and me.”
“What?”
His body shifts on the couch, more of him now facing you. He’s wearing a shirt today. He’s been wearing shirts around you since you made the request weeks ago, but they’re weak at disguising the body underneath. Thin fabric pulled tight like a second skin. 
“You said no bars,” he continues. “How do you feel about diners?”
It’s an odd image—Jake framed in this setting. He’s all lean muscle and neatly styled hair with a clean-shaven jawline surrounded by greasy food and booths so old their plastic seats are cracking. As others watch him—particularly the hostess who cannot for her life keep from glancing his way every thirty seconds—he watches you. Says nothing; just watches until the waitress returns to set a few plates and mugs in front of you both. 
“There you go, kids,” she says. She’s older, and her hair is done up in a style that hasn’t followed the turning of the decades, but you like that it suits her; that she hasn’t paid attention to the change around her, or simply doesn’t care. With her hands on her hips, she says, “Now Jake, if I knew you were bringing a girlfriend I would’ve set aside some of that pie you like.”
Your eyes bug so much they could’ve fallen right onto the table, but Jake chuckles, smiling at you before directing it to the waitress. “Don’t spook her, Mags,” he teases. Then, “This is my new roommate.”
Her lips form an ‘O’ that holds for a few seconds too long before she blinks and tilts her head to the side. “Didn’t work out with the other one, honey?”
“Not so much, no.”
“Well, that’s just fine. I wasn’t a fan.” Mags takes a breath and straightens out her little apron; a costume element you’d rather die than wear, but much like her hair, Mags seems to take pride in it. You can’t fault her for that. You wish you could find a job you enjoy. Or a job at all. She shoots you a grin; nothing like the rehearsed smiles from someone in a customer service job, but a genuine curve of the lips that creates a warm little ball in your chest. “You, on the other hand, look like such a sweetheart. So be good to my Jake here.”
You don’t have the opportunity to disappoint her because she doesn’t wait for a response. Be good to her Jake. Not an ask. A demand. An unspoken ‘or else’ hanging in the air. And though she’s got at least forty years on you, you’re pretty sure she’s spry enough to follow through on her sneaky threats. 
Mags squeezes Jake’s shoulder and departs, leaving you in a confused state of mixed energies. Shock and discomfort radiate off of you like heat waves, meeting the cool calmness emanating from a beaming Jake. 
“Will you tell me more about yourself now?” he asks. 
Shaking off the questionable tone of the older woman, you reconnect yourself to the man in front of you. His words soak in; another unexpected curveball Jake has thrown you within one day. His friends want to meet you, and now your personal details are on his mind. What would come next? Does he want to know the last time you were thoroughly kissed? Your high school GPA? Height and weight? If so, he’s going to be terribly disappointed. 
Steaming, wispy tendrils invade your vision, and you finally register the blueberry hint hitting your nostrils. Jake had whispered the order to Mags with the explanation that he already knew what you wanted. And being the mind-reading wizard you’re convinced he is, on a menu of nearly one hundred items he magically happened to pick something you enjoy. 
You hold yourself back from digging in, instead meeting his eyes as you cross your arms over your chest. “You think free pancakes are a good trade for my life story?”
He slowly slides a mug closer to you. “I got you coffee as well.”
When you raise an unenthused brow, Jake sighs. 
“Fine. You’re leaving me no other choice than to guess,” he says. “But if I get it right, will you be honest?”
With a snort, you pick up your fork and take your first bite of the sweet fluffy cake. It’s undeniably delicious. Fucking wizard. “Sure,” you say, and akin to a child, Jake’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree. 
He ignores his own food and drink to once again watch you. Observing. Your eyes to your lips to your neck and back again. When he comes to a conclusion, he leans back in the booth. “You are a fan of the beach and before you die you intend to live in every beach town this country has to offer for at least two months each.”
Your fork pauses halfway to your mouth. “Are you kidding?”
“Well, since it appears that I am wrong, I’m going to say yes I am kidding because I’m very funny like that.” He stares some more, eyes narrowing. “You’re searching for a long-lost family member.”
“No.”
“You are only attracted to Navy men and thought you’d travel to a hub.”
Again, as he likes to do, he leaves you lacking words for a moment. “That better be another one of your ‘I’m very funny like that’ attempts,” you eventually manage to say. “And you know I wasn’t aware this was a Navy town.”
Jake nods and then leans forward in his seat, arms overlapping on the linoleum tabletop. You can sense the sudden shift; a new energy. The glint in his eye doesn't quite go with the steady seriousness of his voice. Like mismatched puzzle pieces. “So you’re not attracted to Navy men?” he asks. 
Your head jerks back to regain the distance he lessened. “Not exclusively.”
“Damn,” he replies, full playful tone back in place. “I wanted to at least get that part right.”
There’s another bright smile from him. A wink. You look to your right to find Mags' watchful gaze; motherly and hopeful.
After another swallow of pancake, you say, “Alright, you’re done for the day.”
“Oh, come on,” he whines. 
When you shake your head, he picks up his fork and begins to poke at the eggs on his plate, and you bask in the silence of his disappointment. Peace and quiet, with the exception of the diners surrounding you. No questions. No attempted agonizing small talk. You have a moment to breathe. 
It’s not until you’re halfway through your food and the coffee is nearly drained that Jake lifts his head. 
“I’m going to figure you out,” he says with an unwelcome note of determination. 
Your eyes snap up. 
The feeling behind his statement is hard to nail down. You would’ve said delving into your history was something fun for him to do. Something to pass the time with the new person in his home. But now it comes off more like a need. A little prick in his side that he can’t shake. 
You so badly want to be wrong in your interpretation. You want him to give up; to surrender to your stubbornness. Ideally, sooner rather than later. 
“You really don’t have to,” you say.
Jake doesn’t miss a beat. Nothing about him—not his breath, not his stare—stutters at your response. Instead, he returns with, “But I want to.”
---
A/N: Sorry it's a little short. Next chapter will be labeled 3.5 and will be from Jake's POV.
tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things @turtle-in-a-tornado @have-a-nice-day-k @inkandarsenic @kidd3ath @coldmuffinbanditshoe
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redclercs · 1 year
Text
DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.
iv. you and me would be a big conversation
— the one where both of you have big reputations.
warnings: this one got a little long sorry, bashing towards charles and y/n (i love them ok), taylor swift references,2.6k words.
masterlist ✢ next
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FROM DATF1GURL ON TIKTOK: "IS Y/N Y/LN AFTER CHARLES LECLERC NOW?"
[female voiceover]: ❝(...) while it is true she has a contract with Elix the new MAJOR sponsor for Ferrari—horrible drink by the way—rumor has it y/n's actual goal is to get the monegasque driver to spare a glance her way... Like, okay girl, but you left a 3-year relationship five minutes ago, chill.❞
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IN pure Taylor Swift fashion, y/n y/ln has found her own ‘Getaway Car’ in none other than the 25-year-old Monegasque Formula 1 pilot, Charles Leclerc.
While nothing’s been confirmed, (come on now, what celebrity will just confirm rumors of their own free will in this day and age? Screw you, PR agents) the actress has been seen at two Grand Prix and the Elix contract gives her good camouflage for being constantly photographed with her new beau.
No matter how much sex-appeal these two exude, let’s not forget that we have a victim here: Aidan Kim. How can you leave a three year relationship with the man that gave you everything and not even two months later you’re already with someone else?
Is it a rebound or are we looking at something serious? In your humble writer’s opinion it’s most likely the former. And let’s not forget what Taylor Swift, in her infinite wisdom, said: “Nothing good starts in a getaway car”, it doesn’t matter if it’s a Ferrari.
SEE ALSO:
→ Aidan Kim buys new home in Sherman Oaks.
→ Every celebrity present at the Miami Grand Prix.
→ Is y/n y/ln really done with RomComs?
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May 13th, Los Angeles, California.
“ARE you sure this is who you want as your rebound, babe?” Victoria places the magazine down and turns her head to look at you, using the precise force and tilt for her sunglasses to slide down to the tip of her nose.
“Stop reading that garbage,” you warn, not bothering to change your position in the chaise-longue, you don’t even look away from the script in your hands.
The day started pretty well, sunny Los Angeles made you feel hopeful for the first time in a while as you opened the script Mildred sent you when you got back from Miami. A drama about a young widow. You can work with that.
“I just mean—” Vic shifts her whole body in your direction, “—You have options, what about Timothée? I’m pretty sure the Kylie thing is fake. And he wouldn’t say no to you.”
“Stop that, Vic,” this time you do look her way for emphasis, you mean it. “I’m not looking for a rebound, or anything else for that matter. I want a job.”
“Fine,” Vic makes a show of capturing her lip between her teeth to pronounce the “F” and lies back in the chair. “I’m just saying…”
You’re glad to be wearing sunglasses, so she can’t see the way your eyes rollback. To be fair, you’re at Vic’s house so she has every right to occupy the same space as you at any given minute. Which is all the time.
After the breakup you ran to Vic’s Los Angeles home and left the SoHo apartment to Aidan. Vic's house is amazing, with eight rooms, five bathrooms, a black granite kitchen and of course, the pool. But you miss New York, even if you can fit your own room two times in one of Vic's. At least, according to rumors, Aidan is moving out of the apartment so you might be able to return to it soon.
“I think it’s bullshit that they see me breathing near a guy and suddenly we’re dating,” you drop the stack of papers on your legs, startling Vic with the sound. “Bullshit.”
“It’s just tabloids, babe.” Vic goes quiet, knowing she’s annoyed you and now you feel guilty about that too.
“I know,” you sigh, picking the script back up. Suddenly you don’t like it that much anymore.
Of course you know it’s just tabloids. People talk shit just for fun, but you’ve been their main target for a few weeks now and you cannot wait for them to move on. Which seems unlikely.
You've never been more glad about turning down a Yankees game invite.
Following Ferrari’s disappointing Sunday and the respective mandatory Elix pictures, you hung around the Suite a little longer in aims of gathering your thoughts and the will to leave to meet Vic at another after-party.
“Hola y/n! I thought you’d left,” Carlos carried his bag in one hand as he struggled to put his sunglasses with the other.
“I’m about to,” you smiled at him, locking your phone. “You too?”
“Yep, going straight to the airport. See you in Italy?” he asked, running his now free hand through his black hair, all set.
“See you there, Carlos.” you waved him goodbye before leaning back on the couch.
Vic had apologized for the shenanigans she'd pulled the previous night, saying she knew she should have asked you instead of just running with things. So you were looking forward to the after-party, it would be fun to hang out with your best friend after making up.
It wasn’t even five minutes before Charles came out too, hanging up a call in his half-destroyed iPhone.
“Oh hey!” He greeted cheerfully, the bad aftertaste from the race wasn't evident in his demeanor anymore. They had their debrief and Charles was willing to let go of the negativity momentarily.
“Hi Charles,” your not-as-cheerful tone didn’t bother him one bit. “Are you flying back today too?”
You couldn’t picture yourself in an eight hour flight after everything they’d done today, but they’re not really regular humans.
“We’re driving to New York, actually,” his hand hovered over the refreshment table, until he picked one of the leftover Elix. Charles examined the black can he chose before speaking again, “We’re going to a Yankees game tomorrow.”
“That’s very nice, Charles.”
He hates Elix as much as the next person so you can't help but wonder why he drinks them even when the cameras are off. Carlos and you never do.
“Would you like to join us?” He offered, the last word deafened by the click of the can as he opened it.
You took a few seconds to process the question, long enough for Charles to down about half the can in one gulp.
“Thank you, but I’m flying back to L.A. tomorrow.”
Charles' mouth went down in one corner and you were uncertain whether it was your answer or the taste that caused it. He tilted the can making the remaining liquid dance.
“Maybe another time,” he added, downing the rest of the blueberry flavored Elix. “Don’t worry.”
“Thanks for asking me, though,” you smiled, grabbing your purse from the couch. You had recovered enough energy already, and you didn't want to miss the DJ set at the party. “I hope you enjoy it.”
“Thanks y/n,” his mouth was still frozen in that slight wince and you shook your head gently at the sight of the empty Elix. “I'll see you in Italy, right?”
“I’ll be there.” you assured, although you hoped not. But a week didn’t seem like enough time to secure a gig.
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YOU land in Italy the day the Grand Prix gets canceled. Which is very much just your luck. It’s for the better, though, safety must always come first.
It makes no sense to run back to America when you have nothing else to do, so you resolve to stay in Rome and catch up with a few friends you have around. Matilde Bassi being the best among them, and she would rather die than let you stay in a hotel instead of her house.
"I said no," she repeats, and her accent—although barely even there— reminds you of Charles for a split second, before your brain lets go of the image. "I've told you a million times to come visit, I won't let you stay in a hotel."
You give up after that because you don't want to annoy her. Matilde has quite the strong character, which is the reason she got to Broadway in the first place. After years of being in New York, where you met her, she decided to move back to Italy. Mati, still pursuing her passion, is currently the European public's favorite Juliet.
The fact that all of this goes down in a phone call gives you time to pick up what little stuff you've gotten out of your suitcase and check-out of the hotel before Matilde gets there to take you to her house.
─────────
"So, how are you doing?" she asks, refilling your wine before moving back to the stove, where she's cooking your favorite Italian meal.
"I'm fine, I've told you," you chuckle, sipping the drink. Her house is beautiful too, and spacious, but it feels homey compared to Vic's. "Taking it easy."
One thing you tend to forget about Matilde is how she is able to see right through your bullshit, and that's exactly what she's doing now.
"You never take it easy, y/n. And I mean how are you really? How do you feel? A lot has changed for you lately." she flips her head back to remove a stray curl of hair out of her eyes, "You can be honest."
"I'm fine, seriously, Mati," you know drinking so fast will make the wine go straight to your head but you'll do anything to avoid really talking about this. Which is unfair, Matilde is being genuine.
"You moved from one coast to the opposite and you're fine? What are you working on right now?"
You sigh, managing to smell your own alcoholic breath. "I'm with Victoria, and I've lived in Los Angeles before, while filming, it's not a big deal. As for work... I'm just– picking some stuff out, seeing the best options."
Matilde nods and turns around to grab two plates from the sky blue cupboards behind her. "Are you planning on going back to New York?"
"Yeah, hopefully," you get up to help her and she gestures for you to take a seat again. "My name was on the lease and Aidan is moving out of the apartment, according to People Magazine, anyway so..."
"Your apartment was amazing," Matilde smiles, reminiscing the girls' nights you spent together while she worked in New York, it was always so much fun to be with Mati. "I hope you can go back. If that makes you happy, that is."
She manages to carry both steaming plates and the bottle of wine to the table, and finally sits down. "Well, enjoy!"
"Thank you, Mati, this smells amazing," you missed Mati's cooking so much because no matter how many Italian restaurants you visit, nothing compares to hers, and you're also glad to have something on your stomach that will make the effects of the wine go away.
Or that's what you hoped for anyway, because you're halfway through another cup of wine, almost done with your food, when you drop the grenade you've left unpinned in your brain for 2 months.
"I don't miss him," you whisper, resting the fork gently on the edge of the plate, between two of the yellow flowers painted on it. "Am I a horrible person because I don't miss him?"
You gave it a lot of thought ever since you took the plane from New York to L.A. the night you said no. You thought—still think—there's something wrong with you because the feeling that something was ripped out of your life and the hole that it left would never be filled never even appeared. There was no hole, it was a scar already, and you picked at it trying to make it bleed. But nothing happened. Nothing ever happens.
"You're not a horrible person, y/n don't say that."
You're glad Mati doesn't let silence fall between you, it would have made you regret everything that left your mouth, but she's already reaching for your hand and you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.
Mourning the idea of someone is worse than mourning their absence. And you had missed Aidan for a long time, even when he was with you.
"I just feel awful for leaving and not wanting to go back, I hate myself for being okay."
The rejected proposal is something you keep close to you still. You love Mati, and you trust her, but you cannot bring yourself to touch that subject.
Mati squeezes your hand, her food forgotten as well. "I'm glad you're okay. I liked Aidan, too. But you're my friend, and I love you and all I want is for you to be better than okay."
"Thank you Mati," it's her words that actually get the tears flowing, and you wipe them quickly with your free hand. "Sorry for dumping this on you so suddenly." you give a choked laugh before clearing your throat.
"I did tell you you could be honest," she laughs, giving your hand a last squeeze before letting it go. "How about we just go straight to dessert?"
You nod, grateful that she leaves to get the tiramisu you bought on the way home from the fridge so you can pull yourself together.
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MONACO welcomes you the Sunday before the Grand Prix. Which you are excited about, for the first time in a while.
Matilde proves to be the best company once again, knowing her way around Monaco like it's her own home. You're glad she's attending the Grand Prix too and you were able to get her into the Ferrari Suite with you, unlike your failed attempt at Miami with Vic.
One thing you find out about Monaco pretty soon, is that they're obsessed with Charles Leclerc. He's in buses and billboards and you can see people waiting to catch a glimpse of him outside grocery stores. It warms you up inside that he's so loved in his own country, not many people can relate.
You don't love, however, that the articles online have brought attention to your presence in Monaco too. And although it’s far less than the one Charles gets for obvious reasons, the heat that comes from it is closer to ire than affection.
Still, you take photos with those who ask on your way back from dinner with Mati and ignore the “you’re here for your boyfriend, huh?” Questions that come from people with their cameras millimeters away from your face. Saying “it’s not like that” isn’t worth the effort because it won’t work.
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May 23rd Montecarlo, Monaco.
Mati is introducing you to other celebrities that attended the All-Stars game, when Charles comes back from signing autographs to the part of the stadium where you are. He's messy, dirty and all dimples—again— which you start to find annoying. Although it's mildly sweet how he always smiles at you when your eyes meet, you cannot allow yourself to think of that too often. He's a nice guy, he's being nice.
"Hi y/n, I thought I'd see you until the weekend," he greets you, still drying off the sweat from the back of his neck.
You shrug, making way for a couple of guys who give Charles a bro hug, joke about the several mistakes he made during the match and then leave, acknowledging you in the form of a quick scan.
"Good game," you can't help the small laugh that follows the compliment, but Charles only smiles wider.
"I'm a natural," he replies, but takes his hand to the place he hit when he face planted. "Don't you think?"
"Definitely," you laugh again, raising both eyebrows. "I'm just glad you stick to racing."
"Me too," it's his turn to shrug, and run a hand through his damp hair.
“How was New York?” You look over your shoulder to Mati, who’s holding her own conversation a few steps away. “Did you have fun?”
“It was really fun, noisy, big. It’s a shame you couldn’t come.”
“Thank you again for inviting me. I do miss New York, but i had things to do.” You let the air out of your lungs hoping, albeit stupidly, he can’t see in your face that the things you did was read stuff on the internet about the two of you together.
“Oh you live in New York? That’s wonderful, so you know your way around. Lorenzo and I got lost.”
You chuckle gently. “It happens to the best of us.”
“Ready to go?” Mati puts an arm around you, smiling. “Hello, Charles.”
So it is true everyone knows each other in these circles.
“Hello Matilde,” Charles smiles back at her, “I won’t keep you any longer, y/n.”
“No worries, it was nice seeing you.”
“I’ll see you soon, maybe I can show you a place or two in Monaco.” Charles is very casual, but his eyes don’t leave yours for a heartbeat.
Matilde tilts her head and her ponytail falls into your shoulder, the small hairs tickling your ear.
“Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks Charles.” You shake your head away from Mati’s and wave Charles goodbye as he walks by you.
“My advice,” Mati is still holding you by the shoulder. “If I may be nosy… You don’t want to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Charles Leclerc. You don’t wanna do that, y/n.”
You roll your eyes but Mati is unbothered by the gesture. “I’m not doing anything, Mati. He’s being nice, we see each other every weekend.”
“He is a homie hopper, trust me, run don’t walk.”
You tsk, making her shake her head this time. “If it makes you feel better, I’m not doing that, never, ever.”
And although you intend to keep your promise, the first thing you do once your phone is hooked to the hotel’s wifi, is google Charles and his reputation.
Even if you know better than anyone that the internet is full of lies.
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─── team principal radio: ❝hello! i really enjoyed creating this chapter, especially the fake media so i hope you've enjoyed it too. thanks for reading!♡❞
✰ paddock club members: @majx00
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thecuriousbeauty · 3 months
Text
Traitor-The Present
Chapter 1
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Synopsis:y/n is a hard working painter, trying to make the ends meet. She lives with and takes care of her sick Uncle, the only one she has for a family. She has dreams to make it big, and when the desperation for money strikes, she has to make a choice. Walk away after listening to an incredible deal that would fix all her problems, or take up the deal. A top secret, risky deal, which involves meeting Harry Styles.A man once rumored to be a dangerous secret weapon of a leading mafia. artist!y/n x mafia!harry (he's also a doctor)
Word Count: 3601
Author's note: This chapter is just a start to what I hope will be a very interesting thriller. This is my fan first fiction, but I've made sure that it's all planned out properly for you guys. Warnings will be mentioned at the beginning of every chapter. Please re blog to support me if you like it! Next chapter will be up very soon:)
Warnings: Talks about mafia, gold smuggling, accident.
___________________________________________
"Ms. y/l/n, this is the second time I'm calling you, I'm afraid I cannot wait longer. I may have to-"
y/n closes her eyes, bringing her index and thumb finger to squeeze at the skin of the bridge of her nose. "No, no! Mr. Timothy please give me some time, I promise I'll send everything I owe you, just give me some time."
She was due on her rent on the little place she and her uncle call as home.
"I can't give you any more time, Miss. By tomorrow 8 pm, or I'll have you evicted.", Mr. Timothy told her on the phone. 
"Yes, um thank you." y/n sighs as she keeps her phone on the table, and looks around at the mess of her living room. It was a small flat, with a decent living room, a comfortable couch, a TV where her uncle usually spends away the day when she's out working, and two bedrooms. 
Her phone beeped, with an alarm to make sure her uncle took her medicines, and she walked to his bedroom. He was resting on the bed, back supported by a pillow as he read a book. He loves books on underworld mysteries and mafias. She never gets it. 
"Uncle Luke, it's time for your meds.", she says. 
From the time she remembers, y/n was raised by her uncle. She doesn't remember having a father, or a mother, she only has her Uncle Luke to call as family. Whenever she asked him about her family, he would stroke her hair and tell her that no one realized how special she was.
She loved her uncle, he was her father figure. Uncle Luke got diagnosed with Alzheimer's a few months back, and he had to retire from his job as a librarian. Sometimes, he appears completely normal. y/n's heart breaks when she sees the painful expression on her uncle's face as he tries to remember something that shouldn't have been that difficult to remember.
"I took them.", her uncle smiles at her, lifting his eyes from the book. "Are you okay? You seem stressed."
She smiles for his sake, nodding. "Just tired. You need anything?"
Uncle Luke shakes his head, before taking her hand. "Is it money? I can help you out, go back to my job-"
"-No, Uncle Luke, I got it.", y/n squeezes his hand. "I just need you to rest up and be okay. I'm gonna try and squeeze in another job, I'll work something out. I've gotta go now."
Uncle Luke nods, gently ruffling her hair. "Off you go, y/n."
"See you in the evening!"
y/n rushes out the door, and takes the train to the cafe. She doesn't work as a barista, the cafe wanted someone to paint beautiful pictures on the canvas while their customers enjoyed their service. The Golden Cup cafe was a beautiful place. Covered with greenery, sweet smelling flowers and little tables around. 
y/n set up her canvas, paints and brushes. "Morning.", her best friend Sania nudges her elbow. Sania works as a server in the same cafe, and they have been best friends since the first day they met.
"Good morning. It's not good though, I hope yours was good.", y/n rambles, stressed about her desperate need for money.
"Woah, what happened?", Sania asks watching her mix a few colors onto her palate. y/n tells her about the rent problems, and Sania nods understandingly. She also had her debt issues, but recently, she was doing well. y/n thought her rough patch would also be over soon, but she had no hope now. 
"I can set you up an appointment with the people I was talking about.", Sania tells her, and it gains her attention. "They can help you."
"I don't want to do anything illegal Sania-"
"-No, it's not illegal. It's off charts, but you're gonna get money in exchange for a task they assign you. It's simple!"
"That task may involve illegal activities.", y/n shakes her head. Last thing she needed was to go to jail, leaving her uncle all alone.
"No, it won't. Come on y/n, they helped me.", Sania smiles at another coworker, and lowers her voice. "You don't even have to agree immediately, you can decide and get back to them. This job isn't going to be enough to make ends meet and you know that. Think about it."
"Sania take table 4 please!"
"Yes.", Sania nodded at y/n. "I have to get back to work."
y/n also had to get to work, she smiled at the customers before putting her brush to the canvas. She doesn't decide on what to paint. She just lets the inspiration take over. The customers watched in awe as her hand moved skillfully, without an effort. y/n didn't think about her problems when she painted. When she painted, she was in her own world where everything was alright. That was why her paintings all turned out extraordinary.
She talked to the customers who came up to her. During her break, she sat with her cold mint lemon tea and thought about everything Sania said. She was right, she needed the money. Just talking with them wouldn't hurt would it? 
She approached Sania later on that day. "I'll um, I'll talk to them."
"Good! I'll set you up a meeting tonight.", Sania smiled and gave her a side hug. "The choice will be yours babe, to take up the offer or not."
y/n looks around nervously as Sania leads her through an alleyway. It was a sketchy place. There were no people around. 
"Are you sure this is the right place?", y/n whispers.
"Yes.", Sania holds her hand. "They like to be discreet."
"Why? Because of their illegal businesses?"
"Stel. I don't know if they have illegal businesses or not, but they won't involve you in anything like that. There, that's the building. Third floor."
"You're not coming with me?", y/n asks as she stares up at the tall building. It looked musty and old. Much like a haunted house.
"No, but I'll wait for you in the car, okay?", Sania says and y/n sighs, wondering if this was a bad idea. "You'll be fine.", Sania assures.
y/n nods, and goes inside the building. She took the elevator, and waited until it got to the third floor. The building didn't look as bad inside.  
"y/n, y/l/n?", a man asks. He was tall, clad in a black shirt and black pants. He had an AirPod in his right ear, an expensive watch on his left arm. 
"Yes.", y/n answers and the man nods, before walking towards the end of the hallway. y/n assumed she was supposed to follow him so she did. They stopped at a room, and he opened it, stepping aside for her to enter. "Please."
The door closed behind her as she entered the room. She noticed the velvety purple couch in the middle of the room, where a bold looking woman sat. Neat white blouse tucked into dark red pants, along with red heels and red lipstick coating her lips made her look like the boss. She was the only one sitting, the other two men were leaning against a table, and the other was looking outside the window, not paying attention to her. They wore similar clothes to the man who brought her here.
The woman looks her down, her dark brown eyes trying to stare into her soul. Her short hair was sleeked back. 
"Miss y/l/n, please take a seat.", she gave her a smile, but y/n knew it wasn't a warm smile, it was more like a challenging smile. 
"Thanks." y/n sits on the chair in front of the woman. "I am Romania Pelt, nice to meet you.", the woman said, no shake of hands. 
"I guess you already know my name.", y/n replies nervously.
"Come on Hans, where are your manners? Ask our guest if she'd like something to drink.", Romania looks at the man leaning on the table and staring at y/n.
"Anything to drink?", he promptly asks.
"Um, mint lemon ice tea?", y/n blurts out nervously, and the man smirks in amusement, before turning around and fixing her a water. "Water will do too, thank you.", y/n takes a sip, and keeps the water on the table, before keeping her hands on her lap. 
"So Miss y/l/n, we know about the trouble you're in and we want to help you out.", Romania tells her.
"If you want to help me out, I have to do something for you. Let me tell you, I will not take part in anything involving illegal issues like drug dealing, or sexual favors for anyone.", y/n put it out.
"Okay.", Romania nods. "Anything else?"
"You know illegal includes dealing with unauthorized guns, stealing, trespassing-"
"We're aware what illegal covers.", Romania cuts her off, and the man chuckles like she was funny. "You're right about doing us a favor. Let me tell you about it."
y/n nods. "We have a big business, all around the world. We do a lot of things, which involves a lot of side operations.", Romania said in a way y/n wouldn't know what the things were. "But now we're at a little bit of a loss."
"I um can't help you with business.", y/n murmurs.
"I know. But you can help us bring back our main player."
y/n raises an eyebrow as Romania continued. "He was our leader. He was the best at everything. Masterplans, hacking, leading our opponents into traps. He was mainly in charge of the gold smuggling. One night when he was travelling with the gold along with his partner, something happened between them. All we know is that there was a blast, and his partner died. The gold was gone too."
"He didn't die?", y/n asked.
"No.", Romania smiled. "Harry Styles does not go down easily."
Harry Styles. y/n liked the story but she didn't like what she was going to hear. "In the blast, Harry suffered a severe head injury. He was in a coma for a while, but he came back. Unfortunately, he doesn't remember anything that happened.", Romania said. "He has forgotten everything about his past life. We know it must have scared him deeply, losing his partner. She was his lover. Reagan Jones. She was the only one in our unit who was just as good as Harry. They both were literally, a power couple."
y/n felt bad for the guy. "When Reagan died, Harry permanently lost a piece of him too. Not a small piece. A large part of his past life."
"W-What's he doing now?", y/n asks.
"He is a doctor.", Romania says. "Only we knew him as who he was. On the outside he maintained an image as our Doctor. He remembers about being a doctor, so that's how he's leading a living now. Everyone knew about Reagen and not to mess with her, but Harry was our secret weapon, and we need him back. We've given him enough time to sulk about Reagen. It was unfortunate, and we all hate that we lost her but we need Harry back in his bearings."
"What do you want me to do about that?", y/n asks confused.
"You need to befriend him.", Romania says. "Talk to him, get to know him. We heard from Sania that you love talking, and you're great with customers. So do your thing. Eventually, we need you to ask him about what happened that night, what really went wrong, where is the gold?"
"You just said he doesn't remember."
Romania and Hans smile, even the man who was looking outside the window up until now and ignoring y/n, now turns around. "You are going to make him remember.", he said in his gruff voice.
"I'm not a brain surgeon!", y/n scoffed out a laugh. Who do these people think she is?
"We think Harry remembers everything. But he is putting on a show, a mask, to hide whatever he knows. He knows something huge, that's why he does not want to come back to his old life. We need to crack his shell somehow. We've all tried y/n, but someone like you is who we need. Do whatever you need to do, but please, you have to make him remember." Romania had a desperation to her voice now. "Oliver, please."
The bearded gruff man Oliver, pulls out a wad of cash. "Thirty thousand dollars, you can take this now, if you accept our deal."
y/n's eyes widens at the cash. "It's not black, it's real money.", Romania assures. "And on completion of the task, we will give you the rest. Five hundred thousand dollars in total."
"W-Why would you pay me so much?"
"Because this is important to us. We need Harry back.", Oliver says slowly. "I need my best friend back."
Hans pats his arm like he was offering the man comfort. "You'll have to report to me weekly, and you get four weeks to make him remember.", Romania says.
"Four weeks?!", y/n was surprised. How can she make a man remember things he doesn't want to remember in four weeks?
"You can do it.", Romania tells her. "Let me show you his picture. Hans?"
Hans nodded and handed y/n a photo. "That's him. The most wanted man. By now, our opponents also know about Harry. They knew Reagan alone couldn't carry off what she did. So Harry has a lot of people wishing him dead. They don't want to risk him remembering and going back to the person he was."
y/n looked at the photo of the man as the thoughts ran in her mind. A man who lost his lover, and lost his memory. Now he's living without knowing that he is a live target for the big thugs. He was handsome, y/n thought. Luscious brown hair, styled neatly, a little and his green eyes were so deep, like they held a forest inside them. This was the person she was supposed to befriend.
"You can take your time to think about it, give me a call by tomorrow.", Romania slides her card over to y/n. "Nice talking to you, Miss y/l/n."
"I'll escort you outside.", Hans says, and y/n understand that they're done talking to her.
_____________________________________________________________
"Well he's a handsome man, Reagan must have been lucky.", Uncle Luke says as y/n shows him the photo of Harry and tells him the story. y/n shared everything with Uncle Luke. Sania was her best friend, but she still didn't share some things with her that she would with Uncle Luke. 
"Well she's dead.", y/n mumbles. "What do you think?"
"This man must be important.", Uncle Luke says, and y/n nods. "If they're willing to pay so much just in return for his memory."
"What if he doesn't want to remember Uncle Luke?", y/n asks softly. "Reagen died. That must have scarred him deeply. Maybe there's something more to it. Maybe someone attacked them and he couldn't save her. He must be in pain, that's why his mind is shutting it all off."
"Don't get personal, darling.", Uncle Luke advises. "We don't know what kind of a man Harry was, so don't feel for him. Your job is just to befriend him and make him remember."
"I'm too curious to let this go now.", y/n says. "I only read about mafias in novels! I told Sania they were real."
"Mafia?", Uncle Luke laughs. "You confirmed they're mafia?"
"Of course. Business, she said. So secretive! You had to see the building and all the men.", y/n laughs too. "You're right, I won't get personal. I just need the money. Maybe we can get out of this town sooner than we thought, Uncle Luke."
Her uncle smiles, patting her hand as he closes her eyes. "Reena said she'll come over for dinner."
y/n's smile freezes as she hears that. Reena was Uncle Luke's daughter, she had died in a fire. She hates when the disease does this. Uncle Luke had early onset Alzheimer's, so it wasn't as bad as him not being able to recognize her. But she still hated it. 
"I'll make her favorite pasta.", y/n whispers, fluffing his pillow. "You get some rest, Uncle Luke. I love you."
She had to get him the best care. He took care of her all her life. She took the card, and called Romania.
"Miss y/l/n, good to hear from you.", Romania's voice says.
"I'll do it.", y/n said before she could change her mind. "I'll bring his memories back."
___________________________________________
She decided to go with the classic method of meeting first. Go out for drinks. y/n wasn't a big drinker, most of the time. She wasn't going to drink too much today, she wanted to be sober enough to remember everything she got out of the man. 
Romania sent her the details of the hospital in which Harry worked, and told her that he goes to the bar down the street after his working hours sometimes. y/n hoped this would be one day like that, as she set out to the bar. y/n wore a chrome yellow fluffy, silky top along with her jeans and heels. She let her hair out. 
She looked around the bar as she entered, not spotting her target. She decided to wait.
"What would you like, ma'am? New here?", the bartender smiles at her. 
"Uh yes, first time here." She skims through the names of the drinks. 
"First drink on the house. I'll get you our special cocktail?", he asks.
"Okay!" 
Anything on the house sounded amazing.
"I'll be right back.", he winks at her and goes away. y/n turned on her chair to continue scanning the crowd. The bartender was cute, but she had stuff to do.
Her drink came faster than Harry, and she was disappointed he wouldn't come to the bar that night when she finally saw him.
The photo didn't do justice. Harry Styles stood tall, six feet two at least, she thought. His stubble had grown out, and his hair had curls peeking out. Sharp cheekbones that could slice through skin and strong shoulders that hid beneath his light blue shirt. 
He appeared stressed as he ran a hand through his hair, and sat on the empty chair a few seats away from her. "Usual.", he nodded at the bartender, who got to making his drink right away. y/n watched him roll his shirt sleeves back, and sit with his head on his hands. He must have had a rough day.
Then he lifted his head up suddenly and looked straight at her, like he knew she had been watching him. Their eyes connected for a second, before he looked away. 
y/n felt a shiver up her spine. 
That was close, y/n breathed as she sipped the concoction. 
She waited until he had drowned a drink, of what looked like whiskey, before she made her move. 
She gave him her best smile as she took the seat next to him. "Hi, rough day?"
He didn't spare her a look, but he grunted in reply.
Very polite.
"I had a rough day too.", y/n goes on. "Being an artist isn't easy. Sometimes it's hard to get into the creative head space. I had some decisions to make today, and that interfered with my work."
"Artist?", his voice was smooth and deep.
"Yes. I paint.", she answers. "What do you do?"
"ER Doctor.", he looks at her with those eyes looking like they were brimming a storm behind them. "I like art."
"You do? You should come to the cafe sometime, then.", y/n says, treading on careful steps. 
"I don't get time to take a stroll into a cafe.", Harry scoffs, taking a big gulp of his drink. 
"Your job is difficult.", y/n agrees. "Do you like being a doctor?"
Harry tilts his head to study her. "Yes."
y/n waited for him to say something more, but he didn't. Great. He does love talking.
"What do you like about art?", she asks. That, she could talk about.
"The colors.", he answers, looking away from her again. "They have a hidden meaning, most of the time. The artist might not even have an idea when they start, but it turns out beautiful when they're done. Like they gave life to it."
That was the most he had told her since they started talking, and Stella smiled at his description. "I have a small studio too, you should stop by when you have time, Doctor-"
"Turner.", he completes. "Harry Turner."
Either he changed his last name, or he doesn't remember. y/n offers her hand to shake. "y/n, y/l/n."
He nods, and she feels the rough callouses of his fingers as it brushes hers. His hand was warm, and she liked the feel of it on hers. It made her feel safe. Why did it make her feel like that? Why did she feel like it was a familiar hand?
Chapter Two
195 notes · View notes
samandcolbyownme · 3 months
Note
another one of my fav things u write is when the chat goes crazy so I was wondering if u could do one where y/n and Sam haven’t done a video in a while and the fans create rumors saying that they aren’t friends anymore but they’re secretly saying and Sam surprises the viewers on his live with reader and the chat goes crazy I love when u include that k byeee
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I Found Her | Sam Golbach
Warnings: fluff, swearing, slight sexual innuendos, secret relationship (kept from fanbase), rumors about reader
I’m classifying this as a snippet for now.
“Sam.”
“Yeah, baby?” He looks up from his laptop as you walk down the steps, “Did you know that we aren’t friends anymore?”
“I mean..” he turns to look back at you, “Yeah, I kind of did know that.” He chuckles and you walk around to sit on the couch next to him, “Well yeah, but I mean.. here.”
You rest your head on his shoulder and he gives the top a kiss as you smile, “Here.” You hand him your phone, “There’s a thread on this one.”
You reach over, tapping the comment to drop more down, “Then I’ll show you the other comment section on TikTok.”
User1: Has she posted anywhere recently?
User2: right! It’s been almost three months
User3: Has Sam posted anything with her? Commented on anything?
User4: maybe she moved back home? Her and Sam might have split?
User5: @/user4: her and Sam were NEVER together! She’s an old friend from their childhood! Stop spreading false information!
User6: Literally stop. I’m sure y/n is fine!
He nods as he reads down over them, “They have no idea.” He looks over at you, “Is it because you M.I.A on them?”
“Probably. I just deleted the apps off my phone once we started getting, closer, you know.. I wanted to put my all into this, so I figured a social media break would be good.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to anyone. You know that right? You do what you need to do in order to make yourself happy.” Sam leans in, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Because they clearly have no idea what they’re talking about.”
You press a kiss to his lips, “As long as I have you, I should be set on happiness.” You smile and he kisses you again, “Maybe we should just come clean.”
“You want to tell them?” You ask as you raise your brows.
“Only if you want to.” Sam whispers, tucking hair behind your ear as you nod, “I need to start posting again anyway.” You let out a sigh, “Okay. How do you want to do it?”
Sam smirks, “I have an idea.”
“Oh no.” You laugh, “Should I be scared?”
He shakes his head, “Just go up and hang out in my room. I’m going to go live. Is Colby awake?” You stand up and shrug, “Not sure, I did hear anything before I came down.”
He nods and stands up, “Okay.” His hands slide up your arms, “Are you sure about this? If you’re not co-“
“I want to be able to kiss you in public and hold your hand. I’m sure about this, baby.” You look up at him and he smiles, “Okay. Now go.”
You nod and walk over to the steps, looking back to see he’s staring at you shaking his head.
“What?” You stop, tuning towards him as you laugh slightly and he shakes his head, “I just.. cannot believe you are mine.”
You smile harder, feeling your cheeks heat up as you finish your way up the steps. You go into the room you share with Sam, sitting on the bed as you wait for whatever’s about to happen, to happen.
A few minutes later, you see a notification on your phone.
[y/n.y/l/n]: samgolbach started a live video. Watch it before it ends!
“Oh my god.” You look at the door, then back to your phone, then one more back and fourth before you get up and walk out of the room.
You sit down on the floor, listening as you hear Sam start, “What’s up everybody? Hello hello.” He pauses, “Just going to wait for a couple more people to drop in before we get started.”
You knew the comments were insane. Sam hasn’t done a solo live in so long.
“Fuck it.” You get up, walking back in and you click on the notification, popping in while Sam is mid sentence, “.. on here and give you guys a little update about Colby and I’s travels lately.”
He smiles when he sees your name pop up, but he tries to not make it a big deal, “So we flew in from Italy, I think it was two days ago now? But that was amazing. That video will be out soon.”
While Sam is talking, you can’t help but stay focused on the comments, scrolling at you read. At first it was comments about Sam and Colby and their videos and stuff, but as soon as you joined, the focus was practically almost turned, which is what Sam wanted.
InstaUser1: WAIT WAIT Y/N DID I SEE THAT CORRECTLY!?
InstaUser2: Can’t wait for the video Sam!!
InstaUser3: @/InstaUser1 I SAW IT TOO!
InstaUser4: wait wait wait y/n is here?
InstaUser5: Sam! Please just tell us if y/n is okay!
“Y/n is okay. We’re still on good terms, I promise.” He glances at the camera, “Yeah, I see everything.” He laughs, shaking his head, “No she’s doing good.”
You laugh slightly, glancing back down to the comments.
InstaUser6: NO what do you MEAN you see everything Samuel?
InstaUser7: PLEASE GOD NO Sam don’t lurk you’ll regret it, just ask Matt Sturniolo
“Colby is sleeping still. I think he’s coming down with something, which means I’ll probably get it.”
“And I’ll end up getting it.” You mumble to yourself.
InstaUser8: Can you tell us where y/n is? Like did she go back home?
InstaUser9: Why did she ghost us? You’re a GHOST HUNTER, Sam! Please help us out!
“I need to go get Colby up anyway. We have a dinner tonight and I haaaate waking his ass up.”
Your heart starts racing as you see Sam walking in the live, “Oh fuck.” You shift around, leaning back against the headboard as you try to look relaxed and like you aren’t panicking on the inside.
You knew he had to get Colby up, but you knew he had unfinished business that he had to attend to first, “Here guys.” He flips the camera around and you watch the screen intently as he reaches for the knob, “Say hi to Colby.”
He pushes open the door and you’re suddenly watching yourself on your phone screen, “Just kidding. It’s y/n! I found her!”
You turn your head from your phone to look at Sam, “You found me!”
“Ghost Hunter Sam strikes again.” Sam says as he walks over to sit on the bed. You laugh, looking back down at the comments.
InstaUser1: I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT
InstaUser8: Oh my god this is so much better
InstaUser10: PLEASE WHAT IS HAPPENING
You lean over, resting your head on Sam’s shoulder, “I took some sudden time off because, well.. something sudden, but not so sudden happened and I just wanted to give it my all, you know?”
Your eyes scan down as the comments flood through on Sam’s screen.
InstaUser11: PLEASE BE TOGETHER.
InstaUser12: IM SOBBING WHAT
InstaUser13: MY TWO FAV PEOPLE WHAT IS GOING ON I-
You laugh, “I guess we should just-“ Sam cuts you off with a kiss and you lay your hand on his cheek, smiling as he pulls away.
“That’s my girlfriend.” Sam laughs as he rests his forehead against your temple, “Alright guys.” He turns his head, keeping it against yours, “I’ll see you all in the next one. I gotta go wake up Colby. Love you all. Catch ya later.”
You smile as Sam ends the live and then he suddenly turn, lunging to push you back onto the bed, “You can come to dinner with us tonight.”
“I sure can, boyfriend.” You scrunch your nose up as you smile and he leans in, “I love you, y/n.”
Your heart skips a beat and you bring your hand up to lay on his neck, “I love you, Sam.” He presses a few kisses to your face before attacking your lips.
He leans back with a sigh, “Wanna help me get Colby up?” You purse your lips together and shake your head, “I have to start getting ready.”
He rolls his eyes before smiling, “Fine, I’ll let it slide.” You go to get up but he stops you, “This time.” You laugh and shake your head, “Mhm. I’m sure I’ll hear that next time, too.”
“Yeah.” Sam nods, “You probably will.” His eyes scan over your body, “So which dress are you wearing?” You bite down on your lip as you glance over at him, “One that’s easy for you to take off of me once we’re back here.”
“Fuck, I love you.”
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——
Thank you so much for reading!! I love you all so much!
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
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magicshopaholic · 4 months
Text
Words Unsaid (Jungkook x OC)
Summary: Jungkook has something he wants to ask you, but the timing just never seems to sit right.
Pairing: Jungkook x OC
Genre: Fluff
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 7.3 K
Warnings: none
A/N: This took longer than expected to post (but a surprisingly short amount of time to write). Savour it, for the angst will be back in full force next fic :D Takes place a couple of weeks after Unfinished Business and can be read standalone.
Tagging: @bbl32 @ggukkieland @bangtannoonalvg @pb-n-juju @juciu @jeoncookie-bts @quarter-life-crisis2 @dreaming-with-happiness @meirkive  @faearchives @margopinkerton @sumzysworld @purpleseoul7 @kflixnet (italics cannot be tagged. If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment or ask)
Listen to: "thinking out loud" by ed sheeran
jungkook masterlist | main masterlist
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The sun is near setting when lunch comes to a natural end. Namjoon places his credit card on the bill out of habit and, somewhat conscious that it’s not just the two of them here, Jungkook drops his on top of it.
“All good, kid.” Namjoon good-naturedly flicks Jungkook’s credit card off the bill just before the waiter picks it up.
Feeling Lia’s eyes on him, vaguely amused, Jungkook feels his ears heat up and quickly pockets his credit card. “What’s your plan for the rest of the day?” he asks, desperate to change the topic.
“Not much.” He shrugs. “Probably pick up some stuff at this store we saw earlier today, then maybe a walk down the Han if it gets cooler…” He turns slightly as Kaya returns to her seat, fluffing out her hair a bit.
“Seoul has never been this warm, has it?” she remarks. “I’m glad I cut my hair before I came here.”
“It should rain soon,” answers Lia, in her accented English. While her grasp on the language hadn’t necessarily been a surprise to Jungkook, the way it sounded - and how much he liked it - definitely was. She hadn’t ever spoken much English around him, for there was never much of a need, but when Kaya visited and they’d finally met, Jungkook discovered he was obsessed with her English accent. It made her sound older, unattainable and - ironically – more Korean.
“Maybe it will,” says Namjoon, nodding and looking out the glass windows at the sunlight.
“Maybe it will while you’re walking down the Han river,” points out Jungkook. 
“Looking forward to it.”
“Oh, that reminds me - can we make a detour home before we head to the market?” Kaya asks him. “I need to pick up my power bank. My phone’s almost dead.”
Namjoon nods. “Sure. You guys need a ride?” he asks Jungkook and Lia.
“Oh -” They exchange a look, for they were dropped by a company car after Jungkook finished filming a promo. “Actually, yeah,” says Lia, nodding. “We also need to stop by, uh, Jungkook’s house for a minute. You’ll want to change, I guess?”
Jungkook nods mutely, his neck getting hot again. He avoids Namjoon’s eyes; the older member’s subtle questioning a couple of days ago, about how serious is this getting, had been one thing. That, coupled with the abrupt way he and Lia had stopped talking when Jungkook had returned from the men’s room earlier during lunch, made him uneasily conscious that something was still unsaid.
They head out of the restaurant, waiting until Namjoon’s car is brought out by the valet before ducking inside quickly, Kaya in the driver’s seat and Namjoon in the passenger seat next to her. Jungkook notices a few phones out in the open and pointed towards them as they drive away.
“See you tomorrow!” Lia waves at them as they drive away from the porch of Jungkook’s building in Hannam-dong, where his new penthouse sits tucked into the top floor. As the car disappears around a corner, both of them turn around and head inside together.
In the lift, Jungkook watches the numbers increase, his hands in his pockets and his bottom lip between his teeth. The words are there, somewhere, in moments at the tip of his tongue and in others, so far away that they may as well be someone else’s.
“Hey.”
He’s jerked out of his reverie. “Yeah.”
Lia is looking at him, frowning slightly. “Everything okay? You’ve barely said two words since we left.”
“I’m fine,” he answers as the lift stops and they step out, the doors opening right in front of his apartment. “I just, uh…” He pats his pockets and pauses. “... forgot my keys. I think. Shit.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she mutters easily, reaching into her small sling bag for her own keyring and selecting the shiniest one. “This is when it helps to have a spare set with someone else,” she points out.
Jungkook nods sheepishly and steps aside so she can unlock the door to his home. “Actually, Lia…” He takes a deep breath as Namjoon’s face swims to the forefront of his mind, the familiar raised eyebrow and chin tilted upward that, irritatingly knowing but unwilling to give him the answer. No, he would want Jungkook to come up with the answer himself. 
He clears his throat as Lia pauses. “Yeah?”
“Um, I was wondering -” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Just say it. Say it. He makes the mistake of glancing at her again, her raised eyebrows and - to his slight anxiety - hopeful expression.
Shit.
“Would you, um… do you think you would you like to…” 
Come on now, Jungkook, Namjoon would say sternly. Say it already.
“... try a beef bulgogi tonight? I know we usually do pizza on Sunday nights but I saw this recipe online and I really wanted to try it. Plus, we won’t even have to shop - we have that fillet in the freezer so part of the work is really already done, if you think about it…”
He’s rambling, he knows, but it’s only to try and distract himself from the annoyance at himself as well as the brief but clear disappointment in her expression. Her shoulders fall slightly and she bites her lip, turning back to the door and pushing it open halfway.
“Beef bulgogi sounds great,” she says finally, looking up at him after a moment’s hesitation, and giving him a small smile. “Thanks.”
He follows her inside, still deflated. Lia goes straight to the fridge for a bottle of cold water while he heads into his room, shedding his t-shirt on the way. Turning on the bathroom light, he grabs his facewash from the wall-mounted shelf, half-stocked with haircare products, face scrubs, masks, serums and a tub of scrunchies and claw clips. A Dior perfume he’d gifted her earlier this year was also there next to his own Calvin Klein cologne. 
Realising he’s been staring at her belongings for over a minute with emulsified facewash on his face, he quickly scrubs it off and hurries out, passing by her chest of drawers next to the closets. 
Jungkook wishes he wasn’t such a coward. He wishes he had the exact right words and that his mouth moved on its own to deliver the message to her. She’d helped him set up the apartment when he’d moved in last month; most of her belongings are here, she returns here more often than not after work, half the groceries in the pantry are stocked by her. She has a set of keys, she uses his extra parking space - but none of it matters as long as it’s still Jungkook’s house. 
In the kitchen, Lia is standing by the counter with a bowl of watermelon in front of her, scrolling on her phone. She looks up when he enters. 
“I cut the other half that was in the fridge,” she informs him. “Rest of it is inside.”
He swallows. “Thanks.”
Jungkook doesn’t know what he would do without her. The house feels far too big and empty when she isn’t around and he wishes there were some way for her to get that message without him having to spell it out.
But if you do spell it out, comes Namjoon’s voice again, what’s the worst that could happen.
She could say no and then I could die, he thinks, shuddering.
He stands on the opposite side of the counter and leans over to examine the pink fruit. Lia raises an eyebrow and pops a piece into his mouth. 
“Wow. Sweet,” he comments, voice slightly muffled. 
She half-chuckles and nods, going back to her phone and taking a piece as well.
Say it. But is this really the moment? Does there need to be a moment? What would that moment even look like? What would she want that moment to -
“Kook,” says Lia, slowly placing her phone down. “I was thinking… I’ve been coming over here after work the last few days. And I’ll probably be here tomorrow as well, so…” She bites her lip.
“Yes,” whispers Jungkook breathlessly. If Lia were to ask the question - nothing like it. No chance of rejection, no scope for awkwardness. Of course, if any of the guys got wind of the fact that she had been the one to ask, they wouldn’t let him live it down, especially Jimin. Suddenly, he half-hopes she isn’t asking.
“Do you think it would be weird if, you know…”
Holy shit. Screw Jimin and his opinions. Despite a crappy first date a year ago, if this is really how far they’ve come since then, he should consider himself the luckiest man in the world. Unexpectedly, Jungkook’s heart begins to race. 
“… if I went home on Monday evening? It’s been a while and I have an important meeting on Tuesday and all my blazers are at home so in a way, I have to…”
Jungkook nods mutely, barely hearing her, for his heart is hammering so loudly he can hear it in his teeth. It occurs to him that Lia might have been anticipating the same question and subsequently felt the same disappointment, and it only serves to make him feel worse.
“… take my car, too. Jungkook?”
He looks up warily, irrationally worried his shame might be written on his forehead for her to see, possibly triggering her to pull the plug on this entire thing, this whole relationship, to save herself the embarrassment of dating a silly pop star who can’t string six words together -
“Hm?”
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m fine,” he chokes. “Thanks for the, uh, the fruit.”
Lia raises her eyebrows, but there’s a flash of knowing in her eyes. Not wanting to decipher it, for there’s no telling where his mind will take him, he shakes his head slightly and leans forward, kissing her on the cheek.
It doesn’t end there. Later that evening, Jungkook is still reeling from his horrendous inability to pluck up the courage to ask his girlfriend a simple question. The general mood between them seems to have gone back to normal, somewhat, but it nags at the corner of his mind.
They are heading to the executive floor gym in his building, accessible only to the handful of residents on the top floor, when another opportunity seemingly presents itself.
It’s a glorious workout in one of the best gyms in the country; in fact, Jungkook is rather upfront about it being one of the main reasons he chose to buy a property in this particular building in Hannam-dong. Towards the end of a particularly difficult set of reps on the bench press station, Jungkook looks up to see a face, upside down and hovering above him.
“Shit!” he gasps, gripping the barbell tightly so it doesn’t fall on him. 
Eunwoo grins. “What’s up? Wasn’t expecting to see you here today.”
“I could’ve died,” points out Jungkook, sitting up and giving him a friendly dap. “No, Lia wanted to work out, too, and it’s been a, uh… somewhat stressful day.”
“Yeah?” Eunwoo, also sweating and glowing, looks around the gym with his hands on his hips. “Lia is here? Oh, there she is…” He nods at the treadmills where she’s jogging fast, AirPods in and the rest of the world shut out.
They chat for a bit about nothing in particular, catching their breath. Somewhere during the conversation, while they’re at the water station and filling up tiny glasses with fruit-infused ice water, Jungkook wonders if the time has truly come to pick another’s brain. Eunwoo is a good friend and they’ve known each other a while, but it would be the first time he’s actively confided in someone else about his love life. From his experience, it could go either way.
While he’s pondering this, Eunwoo nods and flashes a smile at something over his shoulder.
“Hey, guys.” Lia walks over and pours herself a glass. Her skin pale and glowing, her cheeks flushed lusciously. The ends of her high ponytail stick to her damp collarbones and Jungkook bites his lip without thinking, ridiculously attracted to her at the moment.
“Noona, do you agree with JK’s plan of building a home gym?” Eunwoo asks, seamlessly continuing their discussion. “It’s going to be so much maintenance of equipment,” he tells him, shaking his head.
“Really?” Lia turns to Jungkook, frowning. “When did that happen? I thought you were happy with this gym.”
“I am - and I’m not planning on building a home gym,” he clarifies, suddenly anxious with both sets of eyes on him. “I was just discussing the merits of possibly having one.”
“Such as?”
“Well… privacy, for one. I know the building has good security but they're also fairly lax with allowances,” he points out, not wanting to specify the incident last week that had prompted this train of thought, when he was half-certain he’d spotted someone pointing their phone at him and Lia. 
“Allowances? You mean guests?” Eunwoo wrinkles his nose. “They don’t allow guests in here.”
“Yes, they do.”
“No, they don’t. They don’t allow anybody but residents in the gym.”
There’s a brief but painful pause following his words. 
“They do, actually,” says Lia.
“I don’t think so.”
“Yes, they do,” adds Jungkook tightly, glaring at Eunwoo and moving his eyes deliberately in Lia’s direction, hoping to God he’ll drop it.
Eunwoo frowns slowly, apparently working this out. “What?” he mutters, shaking his head at Jungkook. “No, I’m just saying… wait, how are you so sure?”
“Because I’m technically a guest,” says Lia lightly.
“You are?” Eunwoo raises his eyebrows. “But I thought you were - oh.” To Jungkook’s horror, a blush creeps up his friend’s face. Lia goes still next to him and it takes every ounce of Jungkook’s strength to not turn in her direction.
For the next few seconds or so, the three of them stand there in silence, scarcely making a movement. 
“Excuse me? May I?”
“Yes! Of course, of course -” Jungkook immediately blurts out while Eunwoo practically trips over himself to take a step back and make way for another patron. 
“I’m going to stretch and cool down for a bit,” says Lia, touching Jungkook’s shoulder. “How far along are you?”
“Oh, I still have a bit to finish,” he answers, a bit apologetically. “I was going to box for a bit before ending with cardio.”
“That’s fine, I'll just head back h- uh, to your place and shower… if that’s okay?”
Not least because she hasn’t needed to ask such a question in months, Jungkook nods wordlessly. She gives him a small smile and moves away, and Jungkook watches her leave before turning back around to see Eunwoo giving him a look.
“Shut up,” he mutters.
Eunwoo chuckles as they head over to the boxing bag. “Man, I am so sorry about that. I really thought you’d asked her to move in with you - I thought part of the reason you bought a new house was because you wanted her to move in. You were asking about bathrooms with his-and-her sinks, man. What happened?”
“Okay, first of all, I only asked if you’ve ever seen one in real life - not that I wanted one,” he corrects immediately, strapping on his gloves while Eunwoo gets behind the bag, ready to hold it. 
“And the other thing?”
“I’m working on it,” mutters Jungkook, going into stance and holding his hands up. “I just want to do it right. Make sure it’s a good time, that I’m not hurrying anything - that kind of thing.”
Eunwoo hums and nods. “Well, if it helps, she didn’t seem freaked out. If anything, she looked a little annoyed.”
Jungkook freezes. “She did? She looked annoyed - wait, really? Are you serious?”
His eyes widen. “Wh- no. Not - not annoyed like that. Not like a pissed off annoyed, more like a… like a chill annoyed.” When Jungkook says nothing, he shakes his head. “You know what? Don’t worry about it. Maybe it is too soon. Or maybe it isn’t,” he amends quickly. “What do I know? You know my last three relationships lasted, like, four months each - so I’m probably not the best person to be giving you any kind of advice.”
“That’s the most airtight thing you’ve said so far,” mutters Jungkook. “Alright, I’m coming in.” Waiting a moment for Eunwoo to grip the bag, he cocks his elbow back and punches it.
Despite his deadly faux pas, Eunwoo had inadvertently provided Jungkook with a rather helpful bit of direction. Perhaps it is time for him to lean on a friend for advice, but Eunwoo was also right that he is not one of them, not with his flighty flings and lack of depth in them. The advice matters and so does the friend, prompting Jungkook to ask himself: which of his friends is the expert on the opposite of short-term flings?
“Namjoon hyung!”
Namjoon stops in his tracks at the sound of his name and turns, waiting for Jungkook to catch up with him. 
“Oh, thanks,” says Jungkook, taking a cigarette from the pack Namjoon offers him and leaning forward so he can light it. “Thanks for getting us the evening off, by the way.”
“Kaya is leaving this weekend,” is all Namjoon says in response, shrugging.
“Right.” Jungkook nods, taking a drag and blowing it out, wondering briefly if he should care that they might be seen smoking right outside the Hybe building. “Won’t this make you a couple minutes late, though? If you want to make the best of the next few days?”
Namjoon chuckles. “I don’t want to smoke inside the house.”
“Uh-huh. Speaking of which…” He exhales, suddenly nervous. “I was hoping for some advice.” He clears his throat. “Regarding… relationships.”
Namjoons raises his eyebrows but says nothing else. “M-hm.”
“I have reason to believe,” he begins slowly, “that Lia might want me to ask her to move in with me.”
“Okay.”
Jungkook pauses, searching his leader’s face for a hint. Finding none, he continues. “Well… I want to ask her. But I also don’t want her to feel like I’m asking her just because she wants me to ask her. And I also don’t want to mess it up.”
“How would you mess it up?”
“I don’t know… maybe I’m completely off track and she doesn’t want to move in with me at all? Maybe she thinks it’s too soon?”
Namjoon nods, hearing him out. Then he shakes his head. “Well, personally, I don’t think that’s the case.”
“What isn’t? You think she wants to move in?” Jungkook’s momentarily relief is interrupted by a horrifying thought. “Oh, my God - did she say something to you? Yesterday, at brunch, when I went to the men’s room?”
“Jungkook, you were gone for two minutes.”
He’s about to argue but stops himself. He knows Lia and she is hardly the type to secretly vent her feelings to his friends behind his back, hoping it will get back to him. No, she’s more straightforward than that.
Somewhat satisfied, he takes a different turn. “Okay, let’s get down to it, then. How did you ask Kaya to move in?”
“Well…” Namjoon frowns thoughtfully. “Actually, I didn’t.”
“You… what?” Jungkook squints. “Wait, so… you didn’t ask? You both just knew, telepathically, when to start living together?” he asks incredulously, thinking privately that it could just be believable.
“No,” says Namjoon patiently, chuckling again and flicking some ash off his cigarette. “I didn’t ask because I didn’t have to. Where else is she supposed to live when she comes to Seoul? Where am I supposed to live when I go to see her?”
“Yeah… okay, but… well, would you say you live together?” he presses. “Or do you just, like, crash at each other’s place when you visit?”
“Well, we definitely don’t crash at each other’s place,” he mutters. “Maybe we did right in the beginning? I guess I’d say we live apart, but it’s only because we have to. I don’t know - when she came to Seoul for work last year while I was in service, she stayed at Hannam even though her aunt lives in the city, too.” He shrugs. “If that helps.”
“Huh.” Jungkook considers this. “So, like, do you guys ‘go home’ or do you go back to ‘your place’?”
“Home,” he answers casually, not skipping a beat. “Even her apartment is home. ‘Home’ is what you make it, to a large extent. It’s a place of comfort - an apartment is only part of that,” he says wisely. “I feel more at home in her studio apartment in London with her than at Hannam by myself. The people make the home - and that’s for you to decide.”
Jungkook stares, feeling his cigarette burn away in his hand. “That’s really not the kind of thing I’m looking for, hyung,” he states, before dropping his face in his hand.
Namjoon clicks his tongue and stubs his cigarette on the tray atop the trash can next to him. “Don’t overthink it,” he says, clapping him on the shoulder. “Go about it logically: she’s been your girlfriend for six or seven months now, you bought a new place which is significantly bigger than your old one and she’s in her thirties, meaning she’s most likely thinking long-term.” 
Jungkook gazes at Namjoon’s raised eyebrows, quite certain he’s meant to pick up some meaning out of this. “So…”
“So… if you’re worried she might say no…”
“Chances are… she probably won’t?”
Namjoon grins and nods. “Exactly. Just be yourself, be genuine, be honest - and remember you’re both together for a reason. And I think - I think - she has a thing for you, too,” he adds seriously.
“One can only hope,” he mutters, albeit slightly mollified. “I really don’t want to mess this up.”
Namjoon observes him - for too long. For a moment, it seems as though he’s about to say something that makes Jungkook’s stomach jolt unpleasantly, but at the last second, he shakes his head.
“Impossible to mess it up. Honestly,” he says reassuringly, and Jungkook almost believes him. “It’s a part of the journey and if you think she’s expecting it, just take the plunge. Don’t add unnecessary pressure by trying to make it perfect.”
While the last bit simply isn’t in Jungkook’s DNA, he nods anyway. 
“Damn it.” 
Lia doesn’t look up from the email she’s writing, despite Dal’s repeated exclamations from the kitchen. Finally, he sticks his head out around the door.
“Did you know the faucet is leaking?”
“Yes,” she mutters, still not looking away from her screen.
“And did you know it’s dripping out of the sink zone and onto the floor?”
“Yeah?”
“And did you know it’s fucking disgusting?”
Lia sighs and finally turns her head to glance at him. “Yes, I know. I mopped it up this morning.”
Dal steps out, frowning. “So this much water leaked in the last six hours?” When Lia nods, he sighs heavily and trudges into the living room, falling onto the sofa. “I suppose we can text the landlord but I don’t know what good that will do.”
“Probably as much as it did when we told him about the seepage in the bathroom ceiling.”
“Yeah. Didn’t realise the kind of shoulder strength you need to baste upwards.” A moment later, he chuckles. “Helped that there were three of us there, though. Jungkook was really looking for any excuse to be around you back then, wasn’t he?”
Without meaning to, Lia feels a smile creep up her face at the memory. “It was cute,” she says, slightly defensive. “And we really needed the extra hands, especially to clean up.”
“Oh, sure.” There’s a comfortable silence, the only sound being the clicking of Lia’s keyboard. “Speaking of,” he speaks, and his tone is slightly different, “I’m surprised to see you here.”
Lia doesn’t look up, but she’s certain she knows where he’s going with this. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. You haven’t been around much.”
“You think so?”
“M-hm. In fact, I was starting to wonder if you’d moved out or something and I missed the memo.”
“You were still paying only half the rent, though, weren’t you?”
“Lia.”
“‘Sup.”
From the corner of her eye, she sees a movement and ducks out of habit.
“Lee-lee,” he says again, and she finally meets his gaze.
“I know what you’re getting at, and no,” she says dryly, “no updates on that front. I’m still your roommate for the foreseeable future.”
Dal raises his eyebrows. “Okay.”
Lia turns back to her laptop but doesn’t resume her typing. “What?”
“What what?”
“You’re still looking at me.”
“No. I’m just looking in your general direction.”
She gives him a look. “Just say it.”
“I thought you were moving in with Jungkook.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because he told me last time he came over that he wanted you to move in with him.”
Lia scoffs. “No way did he say that. Liar.”
“Fine, he didn’t use those exact words,” he admits, rolling his eyes. “But he just happened to mention that his new place is bigger, that the gym is fantastic, that it has a really good running trail or something…”
“Maybe he was just making conversation?”
“... and how much closer it is to the Hybe office.”
He works at Hybe, too, technically. The words are on the tip of her tongue, but she can’t deflect anymore; Dal will see right through it. She sighs and puts her laptop away.
“What do you want me to say?” she asks steadily. “We aren’t living together. It’s not the end of the world.”
“I’m not saying it is, at all.” He holds up his hands. “Do you want to, though?”
Lia is silent for a moment. “He needs to ask first. But… yeah, I guess. Could be fun. We’ll save on a lot of fuel.”
“Ooh, stop, I’m swooning.”
She flashes him an embarrassed sort of smile. “You know what I mean. We basically do live together already - but this is a big deal for Jungkook. He’s never done the long-term relationship, adult couple milestone thing before. The last thing I want to do is scare him off.”
Dal nods thoughtfully. “Well, hopefully it’ll go better than your last adult couple milestone thing.”
She snorts, covering her face. “Hey, to be fair, I did move in with him,” she points out. “Kind of.”
“You lasted less than a month before you were back here.”
“Yeah. God, he was such a manchild. Can’t believe I was ever attracted to him.”
“I told you he had an asshat kind of face. But you didn’t listen. Didn’t he have a shrine to his ex-girlfriend in the bathroom or something?”
“It was a couple of bottles of her shampoo and lotion, not a shrine,” she corrects him, “but, sort of. He was so blown away when I asked him to get rid of it - like, sue me, I don’t want to live with my boyfriend and sentimental haircare products belonging to his ex. It just goes to show, you never know enough about your partner until you actually share a living space together.”
“You think there’s more to Jungkook? Because I like him for you, honestly. But he seems to be a more…” Dal grimaces, trying to find the word, “... what you see is what you get… kind of person.”
“That’s a good thing,” she remarks. “Means there’s no lying, no games. None of that shit.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Well, it’s good you know what you want. How long are we planning to wait for him to pop the question?”
“We are not waiting for anything. I, on the other hand…” 
It’s a good question, unfortunately, one that Lia has deliberately tried not to think about because there’s simply no correct answer.
“... will take things as they come.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
She narrows her eyes at her oldest friend, recognising both teasing masking genuine concern. “I’m not going to pressure Jungkook. And I’m not going to get my hopes up either,” she states, trying to ignore the quiet tugging at her heart and standing up, stretching.
“Hey, just say the word and I will -“ Dal makes a flailing kind of gesture and flexes his triceps, “- whip him into shape.”
“Oh, really? Not only will it probably be evenly matched, but who’s going to help you both carry cartons of beer into each other’s houses if you’re both maimed?” She taps her temple sarcastically.
“Well, you’ll be a resident in one of our houses at any given time so I guess we’ll be looking at you.” Dal shrugs in satisfaction as Lia chuckles and starts heading inside her bedroom, considering a shower before bed.
“Oi, Lia.” 
Lia turns in her doorway, recognising the subtle change in tone once again. It wasn’t surprising that Dal and Jungkook got along easily enough; despite her boyfriend’s initial reservations, most of which were based on Dal’s gender and inopportune timing, he had eventually moved past it to begin actually enjoying his company. Oh, he would never admit it, but Lia had woken up more than once in her own bed, alone, while hearing two male voices laughing in the living room with the television on.
As for Dal, the only thing he had needed to say was “Lee-lee, for once, you’ve found a good boy.”
Therefore, while Lia prefers to handle her relationships herself, she recognises the value of her oldest friend’s opinion.
“I just want to let you know,” he begins seriously, and she feels the muscles in her face go slack. He bites his lip. “I just wanted to let you know,” he repeats, “that if Jungkook has a shrine to his ex in his house, you can always move back in here.”
There’s relief, and Lia doesn’t want to admit there’s relief. “Shut up,” she mutters, turning back around as Dal laughs at his own joke behind her.
It’s not the greatest comfort, but Lia uses it as such after that. Worst case, I move back in with Dal, she thinks. We stay roommates until we’re eighty, when either I die first from stress about work or he does driving his car like a maniac. Jungkook brings a carton of beer to the funeral and shares it with whichever one of us is still alive.
It’s a mildly depressing train of thought, especially when she imagines her eighty year old self heading back to her apartment while seventy-seven year old Jungkook, in his infinite wisdom, still hasn’t asked her to move in with him.
Nearly a week later, Lia has successfully kept her desires to herself, while Jungkook has continued trying to pretend he isn’t thinking about it just as much.
“Remind me again why we’re going to this club?” she asks him as they walk to his car in the basement parking. “It doesn’t really sound like your scene.”
“It isn’t,” he admits. “But the DJ tonight is a friend of a friend… of an acquaintance, who’s also kind of an ex-colleague.” He wrinkles his nose. “I wouldn’t normally go but he helped me out during the production of my debut album and I accidentally told him I owed him.”
“Ah. Mistake number one.”
“It might be. You look quite club-ready for someone who doesn’t really enjoy clubs either,” he remarks, playfully smacking her backside. “Leather pants and everything.”
“Faux leather,” she corrects, leaning over and bumping his hip with hers. “I figured I may as well look the part of a popstar’s girlfriend. Plus,” she adds after a moment, as they climb into the car and begin strapping in, “it’s the only party outfit I have at your place.”
Predictably, Jungkook freezes for a moment before clumsily buckling himself in. He doesn’t meet her eyes and swallows as he looks ahead.
“By the way, I hear the gin martinis at this club are to die for,” he declares, completely transparent. “Did you know, the martini is one of the top five drinks people order on a first date?”
Abrupt subject change coupled with a random fact that doesn’t sound completely true; Jungkook is nervous. It’s exasperating and endearing all at once.
“That’s… interesting. Maybe you should’ve invited your single friends tonight. Or if this DJ is an ex-colleague, at least the ones in your group.”
“What, all two of them?”
“Isn’t it three?”
“I don’t think so.” Jungkook shrugs as they pull out of Hannam Hill. “Or maybe it is. I don’t know. Yoongi hyung isn’t very forthcoming about his dating life and I’m too afraid to ask.”
Lia chortles as they turn into the main road, reaching for her party clutch for her phone, when she realises…
“Oh, no,” she mutters under breath.
“What?”
“I, uh…” She bites her lip, internally swearing at herself. “I was moving stuff from my regular bag to the clutch and I forgot… you know what, can we make a quick detour to my apartment? It’s on the way.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is. If you take a right after the signal then you can take the parallel road to the church at the end of my street.”
“That’s not the same road - and come on,” he whines, his shoulders falling. “I don’t want to take a detour. What did you even forget? Power bank? Because my phone is fully charged.”
“It’s not a power bank - look, it’s kind of important, Jungkook. It’ll take, like, five extra minutes.”
“But -”
“Kook!”
“What? What did you even forget that’s so important? Is it make-up or something? Because you look -”
“It’s tampons, Jungkook.”
“It’s -”
“Tampons,” she repeats. “And I don’t want to stop at a drugstore because they may not have the exact brand that I use and most of the others chafe… down there.”
There’s a few seconds of silence while Jungkook stares out of the windshield as the car zooms down the road, his ears turning red.
“Which signal was it again?”
True to her word, they reach her three-storey apartment building a few minutes later and jog up the stairs together.
“I swear, I just need to pick up a couple of extras,” she promises him. “The last time I was caught without any on me and then I had to borrow one and it was just the worst time I - oh, my God!”
Lia gasps as she stops in her tracks in the doorway of her apartment, Jungkook right next to her. 
“Is that -”
“Water,” she sighs, shaking her head. “Shit, it came into the living room? I thought we fixed that damn leak,” she mutters. She places her hands on her hips and looks up at Jungkook.
“Well?”
Jungkook looks blank. “Well… what?”
“Well… I’m going to have to wade in there,” she says slowly, already dreading it. “Do you want to come?”
“Ordinarily, I would love to because that sounds so fun, but these are Balenciaga.” He raises his right leg to show her his shoes, mimicking her position until Lia looks away.
“Alright. Wait here then,” she tells him, before gingerly placing one heeled foot into the water and cringing in anticipation. It reaches ankle deep, missing the hem of her pants only due to the height of her heels. With no specific attachment to her shoes, she takes a couple of more hesitant steps.
“Ugh, I can hear the faucet dripping from here,” she grumbles. “Sure you want to just wait out there?”
“Totally. You’re doing great, though, baby.” He grimaces as she walks further in. “Is it cold? It looks cold.”
“No, it’s room temperature. I’m just glad it hasn’t reached the sofa or the cushions or anything in the - whoa!” Lia grabs the arm of the chair beside her as she slips, thankfully saving her ankles as her knee breaks the fall.
There’s a sound of splashing before Jungkook is right next to her a second too late. “Shit, you okay?”
“Uh, yeah. No injuries, I think.” She twists to see him kneeling next to her. “What happened to your Balenciagas?”
It seems to have occurred to him only now. “Oh…” He looks down at his shoes, now submerged. “I can try blow drying them, probably?”
“Probably.” She tries to hide a smile before giving up. “Take them off before they get any more damaged, though.”
He takes her advice this time and they both rid themselves of their shoes, tossing them on the chair before splashing their way into the kitchen.
Jungkook whistles. “Wow, that’s some leak,” he remarks, following her as she falls to her knees to get a good look at the thin but steady stream of water spilling from a crack in the pipe. “Is this the only leak?” he wonders out loud before pressing his hand against the crack so the water suddenly stops.
“No, there’s a small one here, too,” she answers, squinting at something on the other side of the pipe, a little higher up. “It’s only a few drops out of this one but it’s still bad enough.”
“Maybe we can -” Jungkook grunts and tugs at the pipe, “- wrench it into place? To block this crack?”
“Doubtful. It’s a really old pipe, too, so I’m afraid it might break.”
“It’s metal - can metal break?”
“I mean… yeah? I guess? Look, it’s all rusted up here.”
“Oh, yeah…”
In his effort to look, Jungkook’s hand slips off the crack and the flow of the water resumes. 
“Okay, this can’t go on - we need to block this for now so we can get rid of this fucking flood,” she decides, noting in worry how the water level is slowly rising. “And I’m calling the landlord tomorrow and giving him a piece of my mind.”
“Um -” Jungkook looks around from his position by the pipe. “We have a towel, some flour and stuff… maybe we stick some dough onto it?”
“Worth a shot but I don’t know if it’ll hold till tomorrow. Maybe we should try moving the pipe,” she admits, holding the top of it and wondering if it’ll work.
“Okay, let’s do that. Worst case, we find a plastic or metal box, cut it in just the right dimensions to cover the crack and fix it around the pipe.”
“Worst case.” 
Jungkook waves her over and they grip the pipe together. “If this goes south, just remember that I love you.”
Despite the chaos and the fact that her faux leather pants are damp and disgusting, Lia snorts. “Shut up, you dork. Come on, let’s do this.” Both of them pull the top part towards the lower one to try and close the gap.
“A little to the left, come on…”
“It’s - not - moving -” Lia bites her lip and jerks the pipe back, accidentally slipping again and falling back onto her boyfriend. The jolt makes Jungkook tip over and the pipe twists on the rust, bursting.
“Oh, my - “ Jungkook’s words are cut off when a jet of water hits him square in the face. Lia gasps and reaches for the pipe as he fumbles, sputtering, and lunges towards the pipe to turn it away.
“Jungkook, no! It’ll break if you -” 
But Lia is cut off as well and almost knocked backwards by the force of the water. It’s everywhere now; her clothes, her hair - she’s fully drenched. Next to her, Jungkook looks like he’s been dunked into a lake, his long thick hair sticking to his forehead.
“Take cover!” he yells, pulling open a cabinet behind him with one hand and yanking something out, while the other hand covers the jet of water uselessly. He replaces it with the lid of a cooking pan and tosses her another one which splashes into the water next to her.
“Thanks! I - Jungkook!” She brandishes the utensil while trying to dodge the water. “It’s a sieve!”
“What?”
“It has holes!”
“I can’t see! Wait -” He crawls towards the cabinet but slips midway, swearing loudly. 
“Careful!” She ducks and tries to get to the pipe but feels him grip her forearm and pull her back.
“You’ll hurt yourself!” he yells, handing her another pan. “Jesus - how did you guys let this stupid faucet get this bad?”
“I told you - our landlord is a jackass who ghosts us if we bring up fixtures!”
“Well -” Jungkook pauses, wincing a little as the water continues to ricochet off the pan he’s holding up. “In that case, this is probably as good a time as any to ask you this, but do you want to move in with me?”
Lia almost swallows a mouthful of tap water. “What?”
“Just - I mean, this apartment is unlivable!” he says loudly. “And I’m a much better landlord! And also -” He gags and spits out some water, “- I love you and all!” He shrugs awkwardly, drenched to the bone with his oversized t-shirt sticking to his shoulders and chest.
Lia tries - she really tries - to keep a straight face, to attempt to understand what goes on in Jungkook’s head. But it’s a lost cause, for at the end of the day, whatever it is, it just works. Through the irritation at her landlord and the general shock of being waterboarded by a broken pipe, she sees it. A shine in his doe eyes, a hint of nervousness. 
She doesn’t realise immediately why the water hits her suddenly with force or why Jungkook’s eyes widen belatedly.
“What are you doing? The water is - oh.” The anticipation turns into the beginnings of a smile when he works out why she has knee walked all the way towards him and he stands on his knees as well, just as she reaches him and places her arms around his neck, and kisses him.
When she pulls away, he’s grinning. “That’s a yes?”
“That’s a thank God you finally asked.” 
Jungkook nods sheepishly. “I wanted it to be perfect, honestly. I was just waiting for the right time and -” He sighs, shaking his head so droplets of water fall from his hair.
“You know what? I think this, unexpected as it was, is pretty perfect,” she says honestly. “So… I guess that’s a yes,” she clarifies, meeting him in a kiss once again.
There’s a muffled sound and then a splash, followed by a gasp.
“Oh, my God! What the fuck?”
Jungkook jerks away, pursing his lips. “As long as he is never allowed in our house,” he declares, glaring and pointing in the direction of the living room.
She gives him a look. “Pretty sure you’ll crack before I do on that front,” she guesses, just as Dal appears in the doorway of the kitchen, looking incredulous.
“What the fuck happened in here?”
“What do you think? That damn faucet,” she snaps, pointing at it. “This is the landlord’s problem now - he and his insurance can handle it.”
“I agree, but - God, are you guys okay?”
“Yeah, we were using lids…” Jungkook picks his up and places it in front of the stream of water, much more unfazed about it now than he was before. 
“Lids? Why didn’t you guys just turn off the water?” Taking a long step across the flooded kitchen floor, he reaches for a panel behind the left-most cabinet and twists a lever - and the water stops.
Speechless, Lia turns to look at Jungkook who is looking back at her with equal dismay. “We thought of dough before we thought of turning off the water,” he mutters, shaking his head.
“And we’re taking it to the grave,” she replies, squeezing his hand.
He’s wet, his designer clothes ruined - but Jeon Jungkook is glowing. A moment later, he squeezes her hand back.
“Deal.”
Thank you for reading. Don’t forget to leave a review :)
173 notes · View notes
dontbesoweirdkira · 4 months
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“Did you sleep well? Don’t lie to me, I watched you.”
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¡Yandere!Dark Raiden mk11
A/N: I hope you guys enjoy. I’m sorry I haven’t ever written Raiden and so if it’s a little off…no it isn’t. Lollll I’m going to replay mk11 so I can get more into his character. But there’s a serious lack of mk11 Raiden fics??? Like what is going awn??? Y’all don’t like granddaddy??
Warnings: Yandere/Toxic themes, mentions of kidnapping, violence, threats, sleep watching…
Requests: open 24/7
Masterlist
Raiden isn't someone who finds himself resting much of his own. There’s too many things that he has to attend to and so much of his time would be wasted if he slept most nights.
Besides who would watch over earthrealm and you if he was fast asleep…
Actually he just prefers to watch over you at night. Someone else can handle the latter but..you are far too precious for him to not protect.
Usually he’ll wait a few hours or so after you’ve finally dozed off. Giving you plenty of time to drift into a deep slumber so you cannot be disturbed by him, creeping into your bedroom.
It’s fairly enjoyable for Raiden to watch you rest. You are a very delightful sleeper. You don’t often move around or snore much. When you do make noise it is usually a sweet mummer or giggle.
It’s a huge contrast to during the day when you would be by his side. You were a very timid person and rather fidgety. Raiden understands just how intimidating he can be, but he had hoped you’d come around to it. That you’d understand his demeanor wasn’t personal against you.
He craves your affection and he’s seen how you truly are with others. He doesn’t mind your real personality, any more than the next man would. So if you’re worried he may think lowly of you for being energetic, he won’t. On top of that, he just doesn’t know how to be more inviting.
He absolutely despised how comfortable you were with other people compared to him. You’re not even this shy with his brother, Fujin.
Eventually Raiden had enough of it and decided to forcefully make you comfortable with him. No longer are you allowed out of his home or to socialize outside of him.
(Yeah that made you waaayy more comfortable 🙄)
He now has you all to himself and no one else has the right to your smile anymore.
Unfortunately though the only times you smile at now is when you are fast asleep, dreaming up your own perfect world.
Raiden didn’t mind this too much, it was enough for him just to watch over you. A little while longer and he’s sure you’ll get used to him.
The only thing that could make this any better is if he had the ability to see into your dreams.
What exactly were you dreaming of? Him? Tonight you seemed to smile more than usual, so delusionally he figured it had to be about him. Or maybe you’re thinking of the children you’ll have with the thunder lord.
He almost chuckled to himself as he proudly pondered the idea of the two of you teaching your children how to safely wield their powers. How cute it would be when they'd play tricks on you, of course he’d scold them but it would be kind of cute…
Before he could go any further into thought, your beautiful voice broke the silence—
“Heh…I wish we could have fun like this all the time..”
Could you read his mind? Were you dreaming about what he was thinking of?
The lord, becoming increasingly more intrigued by your dream, leaned in closer. Hoping for you to speak once more..hoping that it was true.
It would be just the confirmation he needed. You dreamt about a life with him, which means all of this was the right choice. You’re finally coming around sooner than he’d previously thought.
“Mmm..Johnny~”
What did you just say..?
Is that why you’re so happy tonight? It’s because of that imbecile??
Hearing you flirtatiously coo the other man’s name ‘Johnny’ was like poison to Raiden’s ears. Something sinister entered his body and before he knew it a fierce thunderstorm of emotions began to brew deep in his veins. Electric red currents started circulating his body as he stood up and towered over you. He tightened his balled fists until his knuckles grew pale white. With a tense jaw and a scowl that omitted a pure crimson color, he remained still. Not wanting to act out just yet in the height of his anger.
As much as Raiden was furious, he was also a devastated lover. You’ve betrayed him. He’s given you so much of himself only for another to occupy your mind…do you know just how much he’s put aside for you?? He’d risk all of earthrealm if it meant an eternity with you.
How DARE you…you will be punished for this. There was no way that Raiden would ever let these trifling feelings go without such.
And for that Johnny…..”Cage volume iii” isn’t going to be coming out anytime soon…
It was as if you could suddenly sense the shift of energy in the room. The warm, cheeky smile ran cold and a bolt of terror struck your core.
Tossing and turning, trying to get away from the darkness that started to overwhelm the dream, you cried out.
“….j-johnny…please help me. He’s going to find me and take me away. Please- that monster is going to get me—”
Jolting up in a cold sweat, your heart sank deeper into your chest after you noticed the narrow, crimson eyes above you.
Frantically you began to speak..
“R-Raiden?! What are—-“
“Did you sleep well? Don’t you even think about lying to me, I watched you.”
Raiden’s voice is as low as it was venomously commanding.
A beat, which felt like years, passed as you mustered up an answer to him. You were currently still too tired and distraught to even know what exactly pissed off Raiden.
“…I-I’m sorry Lord Raiden but I don’t really know what’s going on—“
“BE SILENT, Y/N!.” Raiden’s voice boomed throughout the entire tower, followed by a rumbling of thunder from outside.
From what was just a minute ago, a nice cool night turned into a heavy thunderstorm with heavy winds.
“You think of me as some kind of monster?!…” Raiden scoffed, his once balled fist turned into a sharp point of the finger.
“I understand that your feeble, human mind cannot even comprehend all of the things that I’ve been protecting you from…all of the devotion I’ve dedicated to you. But for you to blatantly disrespect your master is something I never expected from you.”
“ You’ve committed such disgusting sins….you need to be cleansed.”
“Wha- Raiden? I-I don’t understand. What did I do?.” Your eyes began to swell with tears and your voice became an unsteady mess
Raiden sneered down at you.
“Hmhp. Your pleas will not save you, my love. When I’m done with you, Johnny’s name will be scrapped from your memory and you will learn how to become properly devoted to me….and only ME.”
167 notes · View notes
Note
Can you write how Geo would deal with a mc that is always sick? (Totally not cause I'm sick too)
My Remedy for your Malady. (All x Sick! MC/Reader)
Anon. First and foremost, I made you wait 5 1/2 days. I am truly, wholly sorry for this *humbly bows*. (▰︶︹︺▰)
Secondly, I decided that I'm gonna do this for all 7 of our characters, because Jess, Brit and Deryl deserve more attention. I hope you may forgive me for my lateness, and enjoy this fic nonetheless (btw get well soon if you're not already <33).
Also I know that Jess especially is shorter (literally teehee) than the others, but I'm gonna get the hang of her eventually. Same with Deryl. >:]
ALSO, you're in an established relationship with them, so that's why they have (very legal) access to your residence!
- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer
Remedy: a medicine or treatment for a disease or injury.
Malady: a disease or ailment.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Geo was concerned when he found out you were ill.
When you didn't show up to school for the last few days, he texted you to find out why; to which you bluntly told him you felt like utter shit.
He doesn't pick up on the fact you're sick until you straight-up tell him.
Depending on what type of sick you are, he'll get the appropriate medicines/remedies and speed his way towards your home, hell, he might even skip archery, and he *never* skips archery.
Would rock up with food he knows shouldn't cause any problems or nausea for you and will probably make soup.
And you better fucking eat it.
He will feed it to you (reluctantly, but if you seriously can't do it yourself, then he'll manage).
Will ask you how the hell you fell ill anyway, and depending on your answer, he'll be either: Pissed (if you caught it from someone else), Or exasperated (if you stopped taking care of yourself or didn't equip yourself well enough to deal with the weather).
Will take care of you either way.
Will read to you in Japanese to help you sleep.
Will try to not lie near you if possible, unless absolutely needed. He does not plan on catching shit.
Will remain at your residence until you recover; unless he has classes that are either critically important and/or ones you're also in.
Will lend you his notes.
Will also take them back after a few days.
Will also just probably talk to you while you're bedridden, unless you cannot, in which case he'll simply watch you sleep, occasionally stroking your head and hair to try and comfort you.
He's trying his best, okay?
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Sol will freak when he finds out you're sick.
Doesn't care what he's got on next, he's gonna go take care of you.
Will probably feel bad for not telling Hyugo anything about suddenly vanishing
, but he'll understand right?
Will spawn outside your home with: - Medicine, - Your favourite comfort food (if you can eat it without the fear of vomiting), - Probably will bring poetry and art with him, so you both have something to do (that's not him) when you're bedridden.
Will try and hold you if possible, doesn't mind if he gets your blessed germs on him.
You'll have to tell him that you'd worry for him if he fell ill, so he'll respect that.
But he will feed you. You don't have a say in that.
You're being babied now.
He's gonna make sure everything you want (and can have when sick), you'll have.
Is honestly okay with not going to any class, he'll just ask Hyugo for notes if he hasn't been MIAing.
Covers you in blankets if you've got a cold.
If you have a fever? Ice cream. >:]
Essentially tries to uplift your mood as much as humanely possible.
This guy will do anything for you. <33
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Crowe will ensure that when he arrives at your home, you'll have everything you'll need.
Will cook your favourite food.
Will make you eat soup and light foods that are easy on the stomach.
Won't touch you, he doesn't want to fall ill, but will read to you.
He's got a soothing voice I just know it.
And he's 110% going to put you in a coma from how tired you feel when his voice hits just right.
Or maybe you're just fatigued because of your body waging a war against god-knows what kind of virus.
Will make you all forms of beverages to suit your illness, will also go out of his way to purchase any, after all, he's got the funding.
Will still go to classes, and takes extensive notes for you.
Will also tutor you the content if you're up for it.
Will stroke your hair if it's not sweaty, as a form of comfort.
Will make you feel as loved as possible.
Because that's what you deserve.
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Brittney will be appalled.
How did you get sick? More importantly...who got you sick?
She's gonna yell at them.
Or fight them.
Maybe both.
Will buy a bunch of goodies for the both of you.
She can't cook for shit, so she'll just get takeout as food and order a fuckton of cough drops and Panadol.
You're both gonna be painting each others' nails.
And spilling gossip. Oh my god, she always had gossip.
Will give you notes to subjects that are majors, or ones you share.
Other than that can't offer much.
Will sit away from you to not get sick, but she'll 110% be supporting you emotionally.
Will probably give you a massage when you get better.
Idk she gives the vibe that she would.
Is the most aggressively supportive girlfriend ever.
She only wants you to recover ASAP, and to feel as content as someone who's sick can be. <333
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Jess will be focused solely on you recovering as swiftly as humanely possible.
Is upset when she finds out you're fallen ill.
She'll drive to her home, grab the best shit she has and drives to your home.
Stays with you for days on end.
You've become her priority now, after all.
Jess is a very devoted (and lonely) girl, what can I say.
Will try and comfort you via reading to you, or listening to you talk about literally anything.
She just loves your company and you. Poor girl's been neglected her whole life.
She'll try her hardest to take care of you, and she does a very good job. (Ask Brittney teehee)
You're more than glad to have her.
And she to have you.
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Hyugo will be astounded.
You? Got sick?
Why?
Did someone make you sick???? (if so teehee someone's getting food poisoning~)
He's at your home, with everything.
Literally everything.
Blankets, movies, games, medicine, puns, your favourite food and whatever else he deems necessary.
Will hug you if you're not aggressively sneezing/coughing.
Will watch movies with you on the couch with you lying on his plush fucking thighs.
Says the most stupid shit in Japanese (such as teaching you how to hide a body) and making it sound like flirting.
Tells you jokes and puns to make you feel better, until you laugh too hard that is and almost die.
Will make food for you.
Will ramble on about random shit to you, or listen to you talk (if you can).
Literally just seeing you content is more than enough for him.
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Deryl will be SHOOKETH.
He will sprint to your fucking house. He doesn't care.
You're his only priority now.
Will magically appear at your home, and immediately hugs you.
You can be fucking dying, he doesn't care.
You're getting squashed.
Will be asking if you're okay 24/7
Until he realises he forgot to bring food.
Then he runs to get it, along with tablets, Panadol, all that jazz.
Like RUNS.
HE WILL RUN.
HE IS A FAST MOTHERFUCKER.
FAST!!!!!
Then he gets tired, so by the time he gets to the store, gets the food (and the 'goods'), he's gonna just call a fucking cab and crash at your place. (he forgot takeout existed lol)
He doesn't mind, and frankly, neither do you. The food and snacks was awesome (well, what you could eat anyway).
Will try his absolute best to take care of you, but often gets carried away with his energy. Often talks and rambles to you while you happily lay in bed next to him and listen.
Will call Geo or Jess for how to make a warm soup to feed you.
Then it becomes 'we've got Masterchefs at home'.
Shit goes crazy when Deryl's around tbh.
And you're more than happy to enjoy the ride (in more ways than one ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)).
239 notes · View notes
night-dazai · 3 months
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Happy Birthday Dazai Osamu !!🌹🥳🎂
(a.k.a my husband )
This was also a request and since it was my love's birthday I thought I would combine both. Also become a lot longer than expected 😅 summary: Your boyfriend who had gone on a long mission is back home but you feel he is not the same also his birthday is the next day and you do not want this tense air.
“Bella ~ “ his velvet voice dripping with lust was whispered in your ear “ I need you to relax hardly 2 fingers are in and you hold me down like this ?”. Long thick fingers pumped in and out of your puffy cunt which had been eaten out for hours “You have a take something bigger relax love “ he said gently kissing your lips which was a huge contrast to how his fingers fucked you.
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(The image is from Pinterest )
It had been a boring weekend, your college had given you a long weekend due to Good Friday while he had a day off cause he “did a good job and deserved it “ the director said. That is what he told you but you were not fully sure how true it was “Dazai I am bored, “ you said for the nth time while your 8-month lover was busy reading his book for the 10000th time.
He woke up late, and while you had breakfast ready both of you shared the meal and soon went to bed and lay around till lunch for which you ordered takeout and kept lying around. You had done the majority of your work so you started watching the series you always wanted to while he started reading his book near. Dinner was a simple meal and again as you continued your series he continued to read.
For some reason you had a feeling he had been avoiding you, well it started a few weeks ago before the month-long mission the agency had. He said we won't come to your shared apartment for 4 days and the reason was “ cannot put you in danger “. His eyes were clouded, he did not look at you fully or he did not even hug you after saying that, he just left.
During the span of the mission he would come home less and less and you guys would be together, talk, eat and all but still something felt odd …..something was off.
You had told Dazai you were a virgin when you guys were having a very heated makeout session and as his hands tried to go into your pants. But the moment you told him, he stopped … stopped everything pulled you into a hug and you guys went to bed. After 3 days the intense mission started.
Nights became longer and lonely, and the bed was always cold you were getting used to it but somewhere deep down you felt hurt.
“Dazai!” you shouted voice louder than the person dying on the TV “Look at me “You had turned and were sitting on your heel to face your lover who sat calmly next to you cross-legged reading that stupid suicide book.
“Yes Bella?” he asked not taking his eyes off the book, you did not know what to say “What would get his attention, “ you thought and soon one word struck you “Let's have sex, “ you said loud and clear.
Dazai turned to look at you with the most unexplainable expression, chocolate brown eyes wide and mouth parted and his hands holding the book slowly fell to his lap “Y/n what happened ?” he asked.
“I…..I…am a virgin so…pls..slow or .la..later?” she stammered into my ear. The tightness in my pants just became more tight “ Bella? “ I looked at her. She surely was inexperienced when we started dating but this is huge.
“Ah ..fuck !” I cursed silently tracing my hands on her curves next to me like I was the safest person on the planet. Of course, I am not she should get away … My hands rested on her hips “I ….should go slow …..slow” I tell myself.
The mission was easy, but y/n … just looked more and more tempting “ I should wait till she is ready ?”
Tears well in your eyes, and you feel stupid “sex ?”.Your first bf left you cause he did not want to teach you how the be in bed while the second was so obsessed with many weird kinks when he pulled the straps and whips on your first time. You practically ran away. Both your previous relationships ended horribly due to your inexperience “Will he not like me too ?” you thought and asked.
“do you not like the fact that I am a virgin ?”
Dazai’s hands cupped your face while the book fell on the floor “ Bella of course I love you and what is this ? Did something happen ?” he asked.
All you could do was nod your head wiping your tears “No…but please I want you to take me “ you said and climbed onto his lap settling your hands on his broad shoulder “Please…take me ..” your voice begged.
His hands swiftly planned on your hips gripping it tightly “Love.. it is no compulsion for you to have sex with me . We can always wait till you are ready “ he said softly tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear “Hum?”
Now you were not sure if he did not like you or cause it was because he thought you could not work well in bed ? “now that hurts my ego samu~” you said and leaned in your hands going down his chest to his belt “I…..need y….you …..”.
Tall fingers found your hands and held both your hands down “Love… Are you sure? I feel that there is something else that is making you do this ?” cold lips found your flushed neck “Tell me Bella ~” he cooed.
All your resolve crumbled down, no matter what compared to you the experienced bandaged man always had a way of making you a mushy mess “You…are avoiding me ….since.that night “ you mumbled falling on him and planting your face in his neck.
His brown eyes widen for a second understanding setting in instantly he chuckles hands which held you down are removed and wrapped around your waist tightly “Y/n…” he laughs a lot louder now “Seriously you are the cutest “ he says and carries you to your shared bedroom while you clung to him like a kola.
"Maybe thinking that she might need space was a wrong idea, " Dazai thought.
Putting you down gently on the bed like a glass doll “Leave me love I need to get some things” he said trying to pull your hands from his neck but you shook your head “What things?” you asked not looking at him.
“Wet towels, water, some lube …Bella let me go for a second “ he said again and before he could talk a moan left his mouth “That's what you get ass” you said biting his neck hard and making him whimper.
Smiling suddenly he pulled your pony, making you whimper “If you wanna play with fire let's play “ he said grabbing your hair a little harder and making you fall on the plush pillow “Sit back and enjoy “.
Your night pants and top were off in a second while his bandaged hands romaned your untainted skin gripping your flesh in certain places and pulling out moans you never thought you could make.
Being naked under him made you feel nothing but vulnerable and scared, but right now when you look into his eyes all those vanish. Lovely brown eyes filled with nothing but love and lust looked at you.
As if possessed you moved your hands from your chest showing everything “Beautiful Bella ~” he said eyes eating the naked flesh in front of him as his shirt and pants were getting removed.
Left in his underwear he towered over you, eyes asking for permission, tongue out and ready to taste you “Come here “ you said pulling him into a hug and making him immobile “ y/n …you have to leave me “ he said patting your hair. But you did not answer or nod, just an erratic increase in your breathing.
Feeling the ridge breath and heavy movements of your chest Dazai pulled back worried “Did I push her too far ?” he thought.
But again as you tried to pull him back into a hug to hide your face, he caught your hands. Holding them down by your face which was turned to the side to avoid looking at him “Tell me what is it love?” he asked voice soft and caring.
“Gentle … I am not ..sure how it will be but…” you looked right into his eyes “Please..gently “ you said.
His orbs widened for a second but he gained his composure soon” We can stop any second you want to, “ he said moving your hair to the side to kiss your jaw and neck.
Leaving a trail of open-mouth kisses his tongue works near your neck and collarbone ripping moan after moan.
“Y/n such a lovely voice, should I record it ?” he teased nipping the red mark on your neck, eye which was screwed shut opened up looking at him.
He sucks once more satisfied with his marks and admires it while stroking your sides “Don't worry …..nothing you hate will be done “.
Hands roaming in your chest “ such pretty breasts, all full and all for me “ he jumped between them like they were his last meal sucking and nibbling at the hard buds “Mine right ?” he asked again holding your right bud between his teeth while his hand plays with the other he looks up at you for an answer.
Refusing to answer you stay quiet, while he bites harder making you yelp “AH! That hurts !” you say looking down at him. Eyes staring right into your soul “Answer me y/n all mine right ?” you could only nod your head.
Chuckling at your shyness he gets up “ I need words love “One hand strokes your face while the other travels down to your core, which is throbbing and wet.
“yes..yours” you say trying to avoid his gaze but his hands pull your face and his lips on yours. It was a tad bit rougher and deeper, his finger which was teasing near your core now ghost near your clit, flicking it.
It was a little painful but felt weirdly nice, the flick was not too hard. Satisfied with your reaction he got up and opened a drawer next to the bed pulling out a packet of condom you never knew existed there.
Dazai removing the condom and putting it on himself was a sin to watch, bandages slowly fell from his body revealing scars of the past. His past was of murder and death but scars were also there cause he no longer wanted to live.
Slowly moving up you tugged at this arm pulling it closer to your lips, kissing every scar you could find. Swloly you worked your way up your shoulder, collarbone, chin, lips and forehead “I love you “ you said kissing him again.
Your boyfriend was a stone for a few seconds, checks flushing hands fumbling he hugged you tightly “ I love you too..more than you know “his voice filled with emotion but was hidden in your neck.
You somehow got the courage to kiss him like this but now both of you fully naked made you feel more vulnerable. Dazai still hugging you brought you back to the bed “Now relax “ he said kissing you . One hand was nipping at your hard bud while the other went down and trusted a finger in.
Long slender fingers worked their way into your tight cunt as you held on to his biceps “Da..samu…enough….” you said between hard inhales. Dazai chuckled looking at your state, wet eyes and cheeks, lips parted for oxygen intake, chest rising and falling having your lovely breasts moving in a rhythm which made him more hard and ready to cum on them “No love” he kissed your forehead and your nose “still not “.
He moved his hand and hit a spot inside which had you screaming and shocked for a second with your reaction “There..see right here “he pressed the spot again but this time harder. “I am using only one finger and you react like this …you need to be well-trained “ he cooed. An evil smirk played on his lips while the understanding settled in your eyes he slowly inserted another finger in you “I need you to take 3 fingers first okay Bella?”
30 minutes? 1 hour? you had no idea, you had 2 intense orgasms which left your legs shaking and feeling like jelly but still stiff, hands hurt from the sheer grip you had on the sheets and your boyfriend's hair. You thought you had pulled out a few strands but seems like you had no such strength “Sweet love…” he licked your dripping pussy again from the bottom to the top flicking the overly stressed bubble of nerves “See soo sweet “he got up sucking his fingers clean tasting you while making sure you watched each action.
You heard your friends tell you “Nah sex can be very boring or disappointing not like what we read in books “ but have told you it was amazing and even better than the books. And today you knew for sure sex with Dazai will never be anything short of otherworldly.
Kissing your lips, tongue dominating your insides he slowly spread your legs wider, you realised what he was doing …distracting you. You opened your eyes to find brown pupils looking at you “Relax, might hurt I can stop anytime okay ?” he said. All you could was nod your head and hide your face in the crock of his neck.
He was not very grithy but his length was a bit on the above-average longer side and the grith was no joke. His tip kissed your folds twice before entering.
Dazaai tried to keep an eye on your face but you did not let him, cause you knew if he saw you in pain he would stop “go..” you said while he hesitated listening to your hissing noises. And in ..he was inside you, little red droplets combined with your previous release and his pre cum dripped out “Y/n…?you feeling good ?” he asked patting your head “look at me please ?” he begged.
You slowly let go of his neck and lay back down, tears running like a stream down your face, lips open and breathing hard you looked up at him “I…don't know…feels weird “Your eyes looked below at your connecting with him “hurts …but…also ..weird “ you sniffled.
His mind was racing in all directions and telling him only one thing “ slow..gentle ..her first time “ but he wanted none of that. He wanted to start moving thrusting his hips, ramming into your cunt, watching your cry more tears but “it's fine ..it will feel good love “ he said wiping a few tears “Slalty “ he thought licking it.
Slowly he moved his hips while you helped his arms for your dear life, but it was long before his thrusts took a higher pace. The pain was present but something else was taking over you “Mh... Samu..” you mumbled mindlessly “Yes love right ..he..here” he grunted sensing your sudden tightness.
After making sure you were adjusted to his little faster pace “Bella, hold here “ he said bringing one of your hands to his neck while he held the other with his and rammed his hips into your cunt. The thrust was rough and bruising, you were sure your ass was red and all the air left your lungs in a second hand you panting.
He patted your head with one hand “Good girl ..ta..taking me so well..” he said through gritted teeth while ramming into you at a pace you did not expect the slender man to be capable of.
Soon you felt the third knot ready to release “Dazi…da…I..” you mumbled unable to form proper words . “Gonna cum huh ?..cum for me y/n ..cum on my cock “ he said. And right on those commanding words you released while he followed you in seconds.
Panting hard you lay there unable to lift even a finger, your whole felt like it was on fire, it felt jelly but also stiff “How do you feel? does it hurt anywhere?” Dazai asked removing the used condom and putting on his trousers.
“Mhh…it..was intense, “ you said and looked at him, keeping your eyes open was a very big struggle “We have to clean ..or should I get towels here?” he asked ready to do your words.
Instead, you patted the space by your bed “Check the time “ you said “12:15 am “ Dazai replied coming near you and patting your head while the other hand lay on your stomach “I was really not sure what to gift you but I am also not sure if I am worth it here ….” you opened your arms and smiled “Happy birthday Dazai Osamu “.
Your feeble voice and words had the man in front of you crumbling, leaping into your open arms “Tha. thank you y/n” he said. You were not very awake but could feel his words' emotions. He got up and held your face “You are enough more than ever, I am not worthy of such an angel “ he said. The face showed an emotion you could not read but hoped it was not full of sadness.
“Don't say that …if you are not worthy of me who will take me huh ?” you giggled. The tiredness was taking over you “ I am sorry ..” you yawned “ I cannot stay away but I am the first one to wish you “You smiled at your lovely boyfriend through half-open eyes “ I hope you enjoyed y…..yawn your present and thank you…love you “ you mumbled as soon closed your eyes.
As you drifted into a deep slumber, you could not look at the single teardrop that fell from his eyes, kissing your face “ I love you too angel ..my saviour “ he said getting up to clean you.
After he was done, he hugged your body tightly burying your face in his chest, even though a sleep you snuggled into his warmth giving a statsifed hum …you never knew the kind of power you held on this man for you slept while he watched his saviour rest.
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dreamingofep · 2 months
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Forbidden Love pt. 3💔❣️
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Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)
Prompt: Reuniting with Elvis was supposed to be the highlight of your summer, but with unresolved tensions between you two, things aren't what they seem. [Fem!reader]
TW: Cussing, TENSION, ANGST, kissing, fingering, oral
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 6k
A/N: Hello everyone! Cannot wait to have you all read this next part🤭 This is a very important day for Elvis in his career! July 17,1969 is when From Elvis in Memphis was released! It’s an important part of the story and you’ll find out later why this album is so important to Elvis too! Enjoy!
You could not let go of how Elvis was treating you. It was so immature and childish. You couldn’t get over how he made you feel when he got so close. It was suffocating and thrilling all at the same time. He shouldn’t have done any of that though.
You decide to sit back down on the couch and wait for John. You’d rather be at home right now and get away from Elvis before he did anything else reckless. The house was very quiet and could only hear the guys talk outside. There was a bookshelf in the living room that had dozens of books. Some were classics that you had read a million times and some were spiritual and philosophical. Those really caught your eye. You didn’t know Elvis was interested in those things.
You pick one off the shelf and start sifting through it. The way it talked about life and the meaning of it was something you had never thought about. It was beautiful and could see why Elvis might like to read something like this.
The sound of clicking heels coming down the hallway turns your attention to see who is coming. It didn’t sound like Elvis walking in. These sounded like stiletto heels. A girl wearing a yellow dress passes the living room and does a double take when she walks by, not expecting you sitting there. She looks like the girl in the photo with Elvis you saw earlier. She stops dead in her tracks and has a confused look on her face.
“Who are you?” She says sharply.
You place the book down on the coffee table and stand up.
“Hi I uh-, I’m y/n. You must be Dianne?” You ask politely.
“Yeah, I am. You still haven’t answered my question though, who are you?” She snaps.
You stare at her dumbfounded. She was so rude. Is this how she interacts with all of Elvis’ guests?
“I’m a friend of Elvis. My husband is going to start working for him,” you tell her flatly, not putting up with her crass attitude.
She takes a few steps into the living room to get a closer look at you.
“Hmm. Elvis has never mentioned you,” she says, her voice snobby and pretentious.
Your jaw clenches at her rude comments. You’re doing everything in your power to not blow up on her too.
“I’ll get out of your way then. It seems you were not prepared for company,” you say walking past her annoyed.
You make your way to the front door and don’t get the chance to open the door yourself as someone comes barreling in quickly. It was Elvis opening the door and coming in, inches away from face again. You stand there paralyzed, not expecting to be so close to him. He has a spry smile on his face like he is all too pleased to be this close to you again.
You quickly step back, making room for him to come in. You realize John is also behind him looking confused at the situation. Elvis’ smile slowly fades when he sees Dianne right behind you.
“Hi darling,” she says chippy and quickly moves past you to hug him. She makes it look like such a show when she embraces him. She wraps her arms around his neck and runs her hands in his hair. You wanted to roll your eyes, it was pathetic she was trying this hard. You didn’t care who Elvis was with. What has become abundantly clear, he didn’t care about you either and you had to deal with that fact later.
You look back at John and try to smile at him.
“How did it go?” You ask him.
“It went fine. Elvis wants me to work security for him,” he explains. You’re a little shocked that’s the job he gave him. John has no security background and doesn’t even know how to use a gun. You also didn’t know Elvis needed that much security nowadays. You couldn’t help but worry a bit for John’s safety doing this… as well as Elvis’…
“Oh wow… I wasn’t expecting that. Are you okay with doing that?” You ask gently.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’ll just need some lessons and I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it all,” he tries to assure you.
“Honey, you didn’t tell me we were having company,” Dianne says behind you, a slight agitation in her voice.
“Yeah, I must have forgotten. But these are old friends, they don’t need to be fussed over. They can come by any time,” Elvis says with a smile walking back over to John. He puts his arm around him and pats his chest in a friendly way.
You almost believe this act he’s putting on. He learned a thing or two from being in Hollywood that’s for sure. The way his voice lit up and how his whole demeanor was relaxed and calm. John couldn’t be happier to have his friend treat him like this. You hadn’t seen such a big smile on his face in a long time. You look back at Elvis and your eyes lock onto each other’s. He knew you could see past the act and the smile he was faking right now.
“Why don’t we all have dinner together here Friday night? It would be so nice to get to know you both. Elvis never talks about his friends with me,” Dianne says. 
You watch as the rehearsed smile on Elvis’ face slowly turns into a scowl. Oh, that look was a dangerous one. He couldn’t hide any longer how uncomfortable he was in this situation.
“Why don’t we talk this over later dear,” Elvis says flatly, letting go of John.
“No, I want to have dinner with them, What is there to talk about?” She snaps back. You watch as Elvis gives her a cold stare. He lets out a slow, deep breath as he stands there searching for the right thing to say.
A smirk forms on your lips when the most devious thoughts pop into your head.
Throw more fuel on the fire that is Elvis Presley.
“Oh no, that sounds like a wonderful idea! I can make a dessert! I make an amazing cherry pie! Elvis, you would love it! If I remember correctly you love cherries right?” You say excitedly. You quickly turn back to John, “Wouldn’t that be nice John? We can catch up like it’s old times! Besides, I haven’t seen you since your goodbye party Elvis. I would love to know what you’ve been up to in these eleven years,” you quip.
Elvis’ jaw clenches as he now turns how scowl to you. You look straight into his fiery eyes and have no fear in your body. He had to know how pissed you were for doing this to you. Dianne’s face was a bit shocked at your admission.
“Oh, you both have known each other that long and kept in touch?” She asks warily.
“Well, he and John have stayed in touch. Whenever I would call, the phone seemed to magically disconnect and never take my calls,” you say, acting confused looking at Elvis. He knows what you’re doing and he is doing everything in his power not to snap at you.
“I think I should be going,” you say looking at your watch, “I have work soon and need to get ready. What time would you like us over Dianne? Six okay?” You ask sweetly.
She nods her head and smiles at you, “yes that would be perfect! We can’t wait,” she says looking back at Elvis and his unpleased expression aimed at you.
You force another fake smile at him and go to hug Dianne goodbye. You didn’t want to, but you knew it would irk Elvis more than anything. You stop in front of him and give him a pathetic hug. “Can’t wait for dinner,” you say flatly, matching his expression. He continues to stay quiet. You’ve never heard silence so loud before.
*
June 17, 1969
You worked the morning shift at the diner today and you couldn’t help but worry about this dinner tonight. As much as you were proud of yourself for getting under Elvis’ skin as he did to you, you couldn’t help but feel nervous again in his presence. You’re sure he knew your game and you were afraid of what he was going to say around Dianne and John. The last thing you needed was for him to expose what you two did at his goodbye party. You had never told a soul about what happened that night. And admitting it now, eleven years later to your husband and his girlfriend would be disastrous.
You surprisingly got off of work on time and quickly ran to the store to get the ingredients for the cherry pie. Baking was one of your favorite things to do when you had any free time. You loved to measure all the ingredients and mix them just enough to make something sweet and delicious. It took a while to cut everything up and roll out the dough but it was all a labor of love. You hoped Elvis would like it. You always remember he loved it when you brought it over for barbecues…
You let the pie cool on the counter and start to get ready. You were once again plagued with the worry of what to wear and how to look for this dinner. You sifted through your closet and tried to find something casual but you ended up going with a red swing dress. You focused on doing your hair and makeup next, taking your time with your winged eyeliner and curling the ends of your hair just right.
The creak of the door startled you and you quickly go to make sure it was John coming in. He looked tired and sweaty when he walked in, barely looking at you when you greeted him.
“Hey, are you okay?” You ask.
“No, I’ve had a long day. I’m tired and just want to sit down,” he snaps.
“Oh, I didn’t know. What did you do today?” You’re doing your best to not roll your eyes at his attitude.
“We ran around doing errands that Elvis made us do and Jesus, that guy just ran us ragged. We drove all over LA in this sweltering heat and he was just in a shitty mood all day. I don’t know what his deal was,” he says frustrated.
“Well, I’m sorry. People can have rough days sometimes. Elvis is just a man,” you try to say gently. “Maybe he’ll be in a better mood at dinner.”
“I’m not going to dinner,” he spats.
“What? Why?”
“I don’t want to. Plus Elvis didn’t even want to have this dinner! It was you and Dianne making a huge deal about it. Just call him and cancel,” he says as he walks away into the bedroom.
“What? No, I’m not canceling! We’re supposed to be there in half an hour! I’m sure the food is made already and everything. It's just rude to cancel so late,” you try to reason following behind him. He sifted through his drawers to get new clothes as he headed to the bathroom, completely ignoring you.
“John will you listen to me!” You say raising your voice.
He quickly turns around, “Then go by yourself if you’re so worried! I don’t care, just go, I don’t want to be there,” he snaps.
You didn’t say anything at first, his words were so cold and it hurt you more than you thought.
“Yeah I know you don’t care,” you mumble under your breath as you walk away.
Going back into the bedroom, you slip into some heels and grab the pie off the counter. You snag the car keys off the counter and angrily get in the car.
*
It wasn’t a far drive to Elvis’ house but your head was swarming with angry thoughts the whole time going up there. You felt like every man had an issue with you at this point. Elvis purposefully blocked you out of his life and John couldn’t stand to be with you in his spare time. It made you feel awful about yourself and had so many reservations about going to this dinner alone now. It wasn’t a great look for you. He had already supposedly told Elvis things weren’t going well for you two. This only made it look worse.
You pull up to the gates and someone opens them for you. You try to prepare yourself to put on an act for the whole night to get to know Dianne. It was going to be a long night you feared. You couldn’t give a damn about her. You wanted to get to the root of the problem between you and Elvis. If John was going to work for him, you were in Elvis’ life whether he liked it or not. You’d be around much more and you weren’t going to let him take jabs at you any chance he got.
You grab the pie from the passenger seat and head for the front door. You gently knock on the door and wait patiently. You can hear the turn of the lock and you prepare to put a big smile on your face for whoever is going to answer the door. Your smile drops when you see it’s Elvis who opens it. It was something so trivial, but you just never expected Elvis to open his own front door. He looked devilishly good once again. Damn it he was so distracting. He wore a blue silk button-up that was unbuttoned to the middle of his chest with a silver and turquoise belt. A gold chain hung from his neck and just drew more attention to his exposed chest. He looked good without even trying and those black pants were tailored to perfection.
Focus, you idiot.
“Hey,” you say sheepishly.
His face had the same shocked look as it did the other day when he saw you. You didn’t know what to make of it. He looks past you and peers his head to the side of the door.
“Where’s John?” He asks.
“Umm, he’s not coming. He wasn’t feeling well,” you try to explain. Elvis presses his lips together and opens the door for you to come in.
“Great,” he mumbles under his breath.
You hesitantly walk in, not liking his attitude already. You walk in through the foyer and turn to the dining room to set down the pie. The long marble table was set with napkins and silverware already and a tall candlestick centerpiece. There were four placemats set on the table, two on each side of the table facing each other. You set down the dish to the side since it won’t be served right away.
The house was stone quiet. It didn’t seem like there was anyone in here but you and Elvis. One of his housekeepers emerges from the kitchen and gives you a courtly smile.
“Can I get you something to drink dear?” She asks you.
“Just some water please,” you say politely.
She returns quickly with a glass of water for you and you turn back to Elvis, standing there with his arms crossed at his chest looking down at the ground.
You don’t exactly know what to do or where to sit. The whole room feels awkward with just the two of you in it. You decide to move to the living room and wait for Dianne to come downstairs. Elvis follows behind you shortly after. You look out the window and see the city below. The view was truly beautiful. There was a large pool in the backyard and lounge chairs along the edge of it. You could see why Elvis liked this house so much. It was perfect for entertaining. You could feel Elvis staring at you from behind. It ticked you off he doesn’t even try to have a conversation with you.
“Does Dianne know I’m here this time?” You ask him.
“Yeah well… she’s not here,” he tells you.
You turn around quickly, “What? Why? I thought she wanted this dinner,” you say confused.
“We got in a big fight this afternoon and is staying at her sister’s for a bit,” he says a bit uncomfortably.
“Oh, I’m sorry about that…” you say quietly. A heaviness fills the air and you both don’t know what else to say to each other.
“You shouldn’t have come,” he says, breaking the silence.
“What? I didn’t know that you and Dianne got in a fight and John wasn’t feeling good before we left. It would have been rude to just cancel like that!” You try to reason. He shakes his head, not liking anything you just said.
“It wouldn’t have mattered,” he grumbles.
The housekeeper pops her head into the living room and tells you both that dinner is ready on the table. You smile at her and head for the dining room. You probably should just leave, he doesn’t want you here, but you couldn’t give up on Elvis that quickly. Sure, people change over the years, but you didn’t buy that Elvis became so irreverent about everything.
You sit down and place your glass of water in front of your plate. It was a classic Southern meal with pot roast and mashed potatoes. It smelled delicious. Elvis sits down reluctantly across from you, sighing softly when he looks down at his plate. The house was all too quiet for your liking.
You spot a record player behind Elvis. One of your favorite memories at Graceland was always having music playing and everyone having a great time. You spot his new album sitting on the side of the speakers. It just came out today and was titled, From Elvis in Memphis. It had a picture of him from the ’68 special in front of the background dancers that mirrored his silhouette.
“Can we put on your new album?” You try to sound bubbly. You were genuinely curious to hear it. This was his first album since his big special. His whole career was heading in a new path because of it and the buzz around this new album was on everyone’s mind.
“Maybe later,” he says as he picks up the napkin and puts it on his lap.
It was disheartening to hear him not care about his new work.
“You were always so excited to share your new albums…”
“I know, I’m just not in the mood,” he says flatly.
“Is it because I’m here?” You ask bluntly.
His eyes shoot up to look at you and his silence speaks loud and clear.
At this point, it ticked you off this was the way he was treating you. You hadn’t had an actual conversation in a decade with him and he acted like you were the worst person he could interact with. The housekeeper checks in on you both to see if you need anything else.
“No, thank you. We’re fine. You can go home and rest, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says pleasantly.
She thanks him and leaves a few moments later.
Now you two were really alone and it made you uneasy. Neither of you has touched your plates and you try to scramble for where you want to start. You needed to hear what his problem was with you. Even if it ruined your relationship forever.
“What did I do wrong?” You say forcefully. He looks at you a little shocked at your tone.
“Nothing, you’ve done nothing wrong,” he says coldly.
“Bullshit,” you snap, his eyebrows furrowed by your outburst. “You took one look at me the other day and hated my very presence!”
“What did you want me to do? Did you want me to pretend like I was waiting for you to show up? Catch up like old times,” he hisses.
“No, but show me a little bit of decency! It wasn’t my fault that I haven’t heard from you for years! I did everything in my power to try and keep in touch with you. You chose not to reciprocate that, why?!” You press.
“I had nothing to say to you, did you think of that,” he spats.
It hurt, you thought you knew him so well but you don’t know where your friend went after the Army.
“I’m going to be around whether you like it or not. The least you can do is give me answers,” you tell him. He stares at you intensely, his eyes too dark for your liking.
“Fine,” he says.
You shift your food around on the plate, knowing your next question might open a can of worms.
“You regret it, don’t you?” You ask, looking back up at him.
“Regret what?” He asks through his teeth.
“You regret having that night with me before you left,” You tell him.
“No I don’t-,” he tries to tell you but you cut him off.
“How can you say that?! It was one of the first things you brought up after not seeing me for eleven years! I can put two and two together,” you say disgustedly.
Elvis looks down at his plate again and shakes his head.
“I don’t regret it, but it haunts me every day,” he says low. You were taken aback at his confession. You were afraid to have him explain himself but you needed the truth.
“What does that even mean?” You ask hesitantly. He flashes his heated eyes back at you, making your heart race a million miles an hour.
“It means I think about it much too often and wish things were different,” he admits. Your blood boils at his words, you can’t hold back your anger.
“You wish things were different?! How do you think I have felt for the past decade! I miss my old friend! I miss someone that I can talk to any time I want and who could help me in any situation. I barely have a husband who can tolerate my presence! Now I have to add you to that list!” you seethe.
You can tell he’s taken aback by your words. He wasn’t expecting for such emotions out of you today. You get up from your seat, too much anger flowing through you to sit down any longer.
You don’t let him speak just yet, there was too much racing in your head to stop you.
“What we did, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. You’re acting like we actually…” you stop yourself from saying it out loud. If you said it out loud you might hurt your own feelings. You don’t want to feel rejected again.
“We did enough, that’s all that matters. We didn’t know what we were doing,” he tries to say nonchalantly.
God, he was infuriating! Everything that was coming out of his mouth made you want to scream your head off at him. One more snobby remark and you were afraid you were going to do just that. You come to the front of the table to get closer to Elvis which was a dangerous move but you didn’t care.
“I wanted you, Elvis! There was not a doubt in my mind that you were the one I wanted in that moment. I had never felt for anyone like that before! Don’t you dare try to downplay my feelings,” you snap.
“We were both drinking and let it get to our heads!” he tries to reason.
“No! I was so sure! I wanted you. That was all I wanted for that night. I didn’t care you were leaving. It was so much more than that. My feelings would not have changed,” you seethe. He sits there holding the armrest tightly, his chest rising and falling faster than normal. You try to have patience for him, try to let him speak but he just sits there. He looks at you like no one has ever looked at you before.
Was it anger? Frustration? Lust?
Lord, it cannot be that last one.
“You know what, I’ll go. It’s clear that you’re not going to change,” you hiss at him.
You start to turn away and stop when you hear the screech of his chair moving back and the sound of shattering plates hitting the floor. You look at the mess on the floor and Elvis’ fierce gaze. He quickly grabs your wrist and stills you from going any further.
“What are you-,” you start to say.
He picks you up and sets you on the table, your heart racing uncontrollably as you look up at him.
“Enough.” He growls. You try to squirm but he holds you firmly on the table as he hunches down to get eye level with you.
“And you don’t think I wanted you? I never wanted someone so badly in my life. It terrified me. I couldn’t though. I couldn’t have my way with you. You had never been with a man and I wasn’t the right person to do that.” He admits looking away.
“I-, I didn’t care about that. I wanted you to have me,” you say low.
He straightens out his posture, taking in a deep breath before speaking.
“I know, I know you did. I could feel how much you needed me,” he sighs, brushing your hair off your shoulders. His fingers brush your skin and makes you have goosebumps all over. “What an idiot.” He murmurs.
All you can hear is the sound of you two breathing shallowly and quietly.
“And those sounds you made when you were on me… they play way too often in my head,” he says softly, leaning in your ear. Your hands grab onto his arms, unable to hide the way his words are affecting you. Images of that night flash in your head again. It felt like it was yesterday and you can see how his face made those beautiful expressions when you were moving on him. His hands slide down your arms and gently slide down your legs. Your body tenses and you take a sharp breath in. His hands feel so good on you and burn through the material of your dress.
Looking up into his eyes, you feel yourself melt. You remember this exact feeling eleven years ago… but things were very different now.
“Am I too late to have sucha night with you?” He coos. His entire presence was suffocating and intoxicating. Each breath you made was harder to take with him this close to you.
“Elvis,” you say in a breathy sigh.
You’re nine years too late, you think anxiously. That ring on your ring finger seared into your skin, making it abundantly clear you should not have found yourself in this situation. It also burned as a reminder of how unhappy you were. How it weighed you down in chasing your hopes and dreams for years now.
Damn it Elvis was wildfire. One look from him and he consumed all reasonable logic. You loved how it felt to have all of his attention on you. It was something you didn’t realize you craved. You craved a man’s attention and affection.
A smirk forms on his face after hearing his name come from your lips.
“Hmm… I’ve missed you saying my name like that,” he says pressing his forehead to yours. You feel yourself losing the battle with him. He’s pulled you in too far and you love it.
You can’t hold back anymore, you need him. There was no other voice in your head other than it screaming his name.
“Kiss me,” you whimper as you slide your hand on the back of his neck and through his hair. He puts his hand on your cheek and leans in.
Passion and fireworks explode in your head. His lips felt better than they did before. They were so soft and plush and had you craving more. You can’t catch your breath in between kisses as he continues to move his hands on you. The soft material of his shirt had you clawing at it, needing to feel his skin.
Small, soft moans come from your throat as you kiss him more. You never wanted him to stop. You were suddenly transported back to that night but this time it was somehow so much more intense. His hands move up your legs again and move your dress up with it. His fingers rub and tease the soft, sensitive flesh near your core. You felt like you were on fire from every touch of his. Your core began to throb and ache for more. You feel his hands spread your legs open wider, allowing him to step in between them and get closer.
You needed his hands to touch you more, to touch you in places you’ve only dreamed of since. You guide one of his hands lower and he understands exactly what you need.
He takes two fingers and rubs them up and down your folds. The friction felt so good and you instantly moaned in his mouth. It had been so long since you’ve felt any pleasure and this was on a whole other level. He responds with a moan too and slips his tongue in your mouth. You felt completely breathless as he teased and had you reeling for more. His fingers were gentle when they moved on you and knew where you needed the most attention. He puts more pressure when he rubs your clit, liking how your body bucks into his hand. Then he teases your entrance, rubbing and pushing his fingers slightly into you. You gasp as you feel the material of your panties get pushed inside of you.
“Oh God,” you moan.
His incessant teasing has you on the edge of dying. You knew you were embarrassingly wet from all of this and he was just making it worse. He kisses you again and groans while he does so. You feel his finger pull your panties to the side and let his other fingers slide through your sopping-wet folds. You have to break the kiss as you feel his curious fingers give you exactly what you need. You watch as his face also forms into pleasure the more he discovers you.
“Jesus baby,” he moans, his face looking shocked and turned on.
You hold onto him tighter, your eyes silently pleading for more from him. He nods his head at you, getting the message you need him. He gently pushes his slender finger inside of you, pumping it in and out of you slowly. You can’t help but throw your head back, it all feels too good as your core squeezes around him.
“Fuck honey, you’re so damn wet,” he groans. You can’t speak as so many different sensations are flooding your body.
You continue to hold onto him, too afraid this is all a dream and you’re going to wake up any minute now. But he keeps you focused on him and what he’s giving you. He enters another long finger inside you, making you moan his name. You weren’t expecting any of this. How he was making you feel euphoric with the smallest movements of his hands. You look back up into his eyes and he has that droopy, lust-filled look glassed over him. Just looking at him had you weak and breathless. You close your eyes as you feel the coil in your belly become tighter and tighter.
Your eyes pop back open as you feel him gently grab your ankle and push your leg up, having your foot rest on the table’s edge. He then starts to slowly sink down on his knees in front of you. You silently cuss under your breath watching him kneel before you and look at your weeping core.
He licks his lips slightly, pumping his fingers slowly into you again and making you squirm. He only does this for a few more moments before he gently takes his fingers out of you and looks up. You gasp when you feel him no longer inside you and feel your wetness come leaking out of you. You look down at him with your cheeks burning red. He doesn’t mind your blushing embarrassment, no, he’s enjoying this so much and wants you to feel good.
He leans in close and you feel his tongue swipe through your folds. You loudly moan, you have never felt anything so good. He teases and knows just what you want without you saying a word. Your hand tangles in his hair and encourage him to keep going. You felt yourself edging closer and closer to finishing and he knew it too. His hands squeezed around your thighs, keeping your legs spread apart for him.
His tongue teases your entrance and plunges it inside of you. You cry out for him, loving what he’s giving you. It all felt too good to be true. This wasn’t how you expected your evening to go. What started as raging hate for him turned into passionate lust that clouded over everything. He slithers his hand to your clit and starts to rub it as he continues to eat you.
You gasp for air and feel your entire body tense. You look down at him helplessly and watch how his eyes are closed and completely focused on you.
“Oh God Elvis, please,” you cry for him.
He doesn’t stop and knows he’s got you on the edge of falling apart. A few more movements from his tongue and your body shudders hard. Your core squeezes around him and you buck into him. You gasp for air and hold onto his hair tighter. Your vision grows blurry and you don’t even feel like you’re on this earth right now. You felt like you were in another world and it only consisted of you and Elvis there. He makes his own pleased groans as his tongue continues to go to work on you. You can’t help but cry out for him, telling him how good it feels.
You hadn’t felt this much pleasure in ages. It was new and enlightening. He gradually slows his pace down and moves up to tease your swollen bud. It was like a zap of electricity running through you as his mouth teased. He stops to look up at you, his mouth and chin covered in your slick. He slowly gets up, his tall stature looming over you and making you feel so small.
He stares at you with awe in his eyes. You felt the same. He leans in to kiss you, passion overflowing with his lips. Your head is spinning once again with how he’s kissing you and the way his hands hold onto you tightly.
You pull away to get air and see he’s just as breathless. Your thumb gently wipes his face to get it clean once again and he smiles. He then picks you up off the table and has you stand once again. Your legs shake slightly and you hold onto his arm tight.
He takes your hand in his and starts walking away from the dining room. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you the entire way. You stop him as he starts to lead you further into the house.
“Where are we going?” You ask a bit nervously.
He smirks at you and pulls you in for another kiss. You melt as you feel him pressed against you for the first time in a very long time.
“I wasn’t done making you feel good,” he says coyly. “Is that ok?”
You nod your head at him, knowing he has you in the palm of his hand now, liking it more than you thought possible.
Tagging: @loving-elvis @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis
@ccab @presleyenterprise@theresalwaysep
@prompted-wordsmith@sillybookmarks @dkayfixates
@ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog
@myradiaz @tacozebra051
@thatbanditqueen
@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873
@austinswhitewolf@eliseinmemphis
@everythingelvispresley@chasingwildflowers
@idontwanttoputanything. @ohjustpeachy-
@elvisalltheway101@austinsmutler@kingdomforapony.
@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl
@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121
@jaqueline19997
@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rimartin11 @that-hotdog.
@louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8
@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69
@mh777ep1938
@50sexyshadestashionista
@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs
@sloppiest-of-jos @thisis-theway @gatheraheart
@aphroditebabygirl @faeolwen
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taasgirl · 7 months
Text
say something pt 2.
summary: although playing for the same club, pedri and y/n cannot stand the thought of being around each other. enemies to lovers for all my slow burn girlies out there - i got u
a/n: not proofread and all in english + more installments coming soon!!
read part one here!
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We were sat just above the bench, watching over one of the men's games. We had to do this regularly, to show our club spirit or something. The men, however, barely ever came to our games. I swear they only came for our Champions League Final and were out of the stadium when the ninety minutes were up.
“You’d think that such an expensive team would be good.” Ingrid was not impressed with the team playing. Her face had disgust written all over it and was really not afraid to show it.
“Don’t be mean. Not everyone can be as good as us.” Salma bolstered a smile, rubbing my leg aggressively. Rolling my eyes, I kept my focus on the game in front of me. It was a tight game. Real Betis were really putting up a fight, and I couldn't help but ogle at Hector Bellerin. He was genuinely so beautiful.
"Enjoying the game Y/N?" Salma asked, making the girls around us laugh. "Yeah funny Sal."
By the time the game had ended it was a 2-1 win for Betis, a real shock to almost everyone. The boys were fuming.
We walked down to the field, players from both of teams were still there. Making my way through with the girls, I heard my name called out. "Y/N! Wait up!" I turned around, running over with a cheesy smile was Hector. Hector Bellerin.
We followed each other on Instagram, and occasionally left friendly comments, but we had never spoken before. "How you doing?" I could hear his awkward English accent. "I'm doing pretty well. Congrats on the win you guys deserved it." He smiled.
"Ah, thank you. None of us were really expecting it." We spoke for another few minutes until he was called over by his coach.
"I'll see you around, I hope that next time you watch me play, you're in a Betis jersey." Smirking, he ran back to his team while I followed the girls into the tunnel.
When I caught up with Salma she couldn't look at me. "Already cheating on class boy with a footballer." She sarcastically sighed. "I always knew you were destined to be a wag." I lightly shoved her until I felt a push on my back.
"Get the fuck out of the way." Pedri spat at me. "Talking to the fucking opposition. If you want to fuck him so badly do it after the game." He pushed the changeroom door open, following closely behind him was Gavi and Ferran who looked at me sympathetically.
"Come on don't listen to him. Let's get home." Salma's hand found my shoulder pulling me close into her. "I'm happy to sleep over at Mapi's if you want to bring a certain someone over." God I hope she never changes.
"Girl there's no way I'm inviting him over. Let him celebrate the win." I smiled at her and she looked confused. "I wasn't talking about Hector." She stuck her tongue at as we walked to the parking lot.
I couldn't stop thinking about what Pedri had said to me that night. It almost shocked me how I didn't slap him. And although I wanted to hate him for it, a part of me hoped he didn't mean it. A part of me wanted it to just be a spur-of-the-moment comment which he would regret.
"Y/N are you okay?" Alex lightly tapped me. "Huh? Oh yeah, I'm just um tired." I focused back at my teacher. School was kicking my ass, I received my assessment schedule and these last few weeks were my last moments of peace before I locked in.
Once class was over I hurried myself as usual to the door. I had to get to training asap and I couldn't afford to be late. Again.
"Need a ride?" Alex caught up to me. There was no way I would decline, I was gonna be late. "Yes please, I need to get to work." We hoped in his car and he drove me to the grounds.
"I really enjoyed hanging out with you the other day. If it's alright with you, I'd like to come to one of your games?" I laughed but quickly refrained myself. "Oh um yeah. I can try and hook you up with some tickets if you wanna bring people."
We drove through the back streets of Barcelona until we got to where I needed to be. "Do you need me to pick you up? I'm happy to hang around for a while." He pulled up kerbside. "Yeah you'd be waiting for a very long time. It's all good, Salma drives me home." He'd met Salma a few times after we'd hookup as he tried to escape my room.
"But seriously, thank you so much. You don't understand how much easier you just made my life." I leaned over and pecked him on the cheek before I left the car.
"The fuck is that?" I recognised the voice immediately, B-lining for the buildings' entrance. "Oh ok yeah very mature, just ignore me." I waved to reception as I walked down to the changerooms.
"Was that your boyfriend? Or just another guy you hook up with." I snapped at him "He's a classmate." I continued walking down the hall. "So, tell me, did you sleep with Hector." That was it.
I turned to face him and slapped him across the face. Hard. A red mark coloured his cheeks. Realising what I had down, I regretted it immediately. "Oh my god Pedri I'm so sorry." I placed my hand on his cheek. "Holy fuck I don't know what came over me." Firstly, he looked at me disappointed, then he smirked. "So I'll take it that you didn't sleep with him." I walked right past him.
"Is something up with you Y/N?" Lucy said in my ear while marking me during training. I looked at her puzzled. "You're a lot more, I don't know. You're very tense." I scoffed. No wonder I was tense, I was literally studying for my degree while playing professional football.
"Well a few of us are going to go out tonight if you wanted to join? Girls only type of thing." Actually, I liked that idea. I needed time to just chill. Preferably away from home.
"Yeah actually I'd like that. You'll send me the address?" She agreed and soon enough we were back to tackling each other.
Once training had finished, Ona and I walked to the gym. She was still recovering from an ankle injury and wanted someone to give her motivation during the workout. As we entered the gym, sets of eyes laid straight onto us.
The men's team.
I looked at her, displeased to be trapped in a room filled with sweaty men, however, she didn't seem to care too much. "I think I'm gonna get deodorant poisoning if I'm in here any longer." She dragged me over to a machine.
I took a walk around the gym, trying to find the spot with the best reception. "Fancy seeing you around." Pedri called out to me.
I didn't look at him. No bother in giving him the time of day. "Okay then." He turned back to his group, they were making fun of his failed attempt at grabbing my attention.
"Y/N can you come over here for a sec?" Gavi called out to me. I was less than willing to walk over to a slightly intimidating group of boys, but I didn't want to give Pablo the same response that I gave Pedri.
Walking over, I could feel the eyes of the boys on me. "How you been baby?" I smiled at him. He's always been affectionate towards me, but this was artificial in a way. He was trying to make someone jealous. "You going out tonight?" I nodded. "Clubbing downtown." He looked impressed. "Going with Salma? I can try and ask around for that girl to be there."
"I'm so happy that you're finally going out with me. It's been what, four months?" Salma put on one of her sexiest outfits. I told her that the girl from before would be there, to that she immediately went looking for the hottest thing she owned.
"Yeah well you're obviously not planning on hanging out with me." Since she had gone out the other night, she couldn't stop talking about this girl she met.
We got picked up in a cab and made our way downtown. Upon entering the club we realised it wasn't exactly how we had pictured it. It wasn't so much a 'casual' club as it was a 'celebrity' club.
I recognised majority of the people as other footballers and internally rolled my eyes at the idea of spending time with some stuck up male footballer. Like Pedri for example.
When we found Lucy and a few of the other girls, we took a seat at the bar and ordered a round of shots. It had been a while since I had drunk alcohol, but I promised myself that I wouldn't drink too much. And I was usually good at keeping to my word, so I limited myself to three drinks.
"Y/N, Salma's been telling me about this guy you've been seeing." Ona said, taking a shot in full. "I hope he's hot at least." I looked at Salma unimpressed, she loved telling people about my life, to the point where even the physios knew who Alex was. "He's just a classmate, I mean like we've hooked up a few times but I'm not really into him."
The girls and I chatted for at least twenty minuets before suggesting we move to the dance floor. The DJ was playing mostly Bad Bunny with a few western songs, and soon enough the alcohol hit me, and I was in my groove. I was dancing with so many different people, and I could've sworn I had accidentally grinded up on Jude Bellingham before Ingrid came over to me, telling that someone was looking for me.
I followed in the direction of where she had pointed and found myself on the outside of the floor, but next to a tall man. "Hola Y/N." Hector bent down to give me a kiss on the cheek. "Hola."
"I really think we should hang out some day." I blushed at his words. "I'd like that. Maybe you could come to one of my games? Hang up your pride and wear the jersey of your old club." I nudged him playfully as he sarcastically shook his head. "Let's dance." He pulled me by the hand into the centre of the floor.
He held my hips as we swayed together, feeling the music and each other. "I though you'd be a better dancer Y/N." I looked up at him confused. "I'm only joking Carino. You look beautiful." I dug my head into his chest as we danced.
Now did I want to hook up with him? No, not really. But you can't hate a girl for giving into some attention. "Hector." He looked at me, almost freezing. "Does Pedri hate me?" He laughed. A guttural laugh.
"I'm not sure. Why?" I sighed. "He's just been a real dickhead lately. Always up in my personal businesses and constantly trying to piss me off." Hector smiled at me. "Yeah I don't think he hates you." He continued, "If it makes you feel any better, I think he actually likes you. I mean at least when I was at Barca he wouldn't shut up about this new prodigy." Ok now I was intrigued. "Go on."
"Well I mean he would always hang around at training to watch you play. To me at least I found it a little creepy, but I think it all stemmed from a crush." Yeah what the fuck.
"There's no way. Like he actually despises me." Hector shrugged as we came to a full stop of dancing. "Well maybe something's changed, but trust me, he likes you. Or used to I don't know."
I literally did not know what to think. So Pedri has been a fan all along??? Interesting…
After leaving Hector for the bathroom I felt a presence behind me as I walked down the corridor. Turning around nonchalantly, I came face to face with Pedri. Of fucking course he’d be here.
"Having fun?" He was holding a glass of what looked like water. Of course he didn't drink. "Yeah it's chill." I went to turn around when he grabbed my shoulder. "Sorry if I've been a dick, I've just, I don't know. Sorry." He was smiling at me. Smiling.
"Oh, um yeah okay you're all good." Before I could make my way back to the bathroom, his hands clasped my face, pulling me in for a kiss.
My brain wanted to push him away, but my body wanted more of him. I kissed him back passionately before he pulled away, hands still on my cheek. "Holy shit, I'm so sorry." He looked at me for no more than a second before walking back out.
He just kissed me. I kissed him. Pedri. Fucking Pedri.
"Y/N you're on, get up." Jonatan called for me, I was cozy on the bench watching my team struggle against Wolfsburg in a tight Champions League group stage match.
I hopped out of my seat and walked over to him. "I need you to turn this around. It's looking sloppy out there." He pointed to the field, everyone was tired, and Wolfsburg would break the deadlock soon enough if no stepped up. "I need a goal. I need you to be the captain out there, ok?" I nodded.
It was going to be tough. A thousand things were running through my head. Pedri was one of them, and I knew he was in the crowd. Alex too. God why do I do this to myself.
As I walked over to the fourth official, I could hear the crowd begin to get louder. I knew I was popular amongst the Barca fans, but hearing how excited they were to see me come on, gave me a new type of confidence.
I ran onto the pitch after I was subbed on, and genuinely put my heart into it. I had a few shots, although none were good enough to get past the keeper.
I built up with Keira, and finally had a chance to bury the game. I struck the ball with my laces from a few meters outside the box. I watched it curl into the top right of the goal and the crowd erupted.
I ran to the corner post where I did a knee slide, and was followed closely behind my teammates. Everyone was cheering.
The whistle blew after an agonizingly long fifteen minutes and the stadium erupted once more. We had slid past into a comfortable 1-0 win and I was absolutely buzzing. Jonatan pulled me in for a hug, and soon enough I was being thrown in the air by my teammates.
We did a lap of the field, taking photos and thanking the fans for supporting us. I had given my jersey to a young fan, in exchange for a bag of Haribos which were delicious.
When we had reached the bench and tunnel, I made direct eye contact with Pedri. It wasn't short either. He was still in the stands, in a full Barca tracksuit, looking down at me. And then he smiled.
I smiled back at him before I almost got practically tackled. Alex lifted me off the ground, and spun my around. "You did so well." He placed me back on the ground and leaned in for a kiss, I pulled back. "Oh, thanks Alex." I looked back into the crowd to where Pedri was standing, but I couldn't see him anymore.
"Please let me take you out tonight. I have us booked in for a beautiful Italian restaurant." I physically cringed. I don't know why I have such conflicting feeling towards Alex.
"Sorry Alex, but I've got recovery and stuff. I'd love to go another day." Lieeeeee. He looked down to the ground. "Yeah uh you're all good. Well done today." He smiled cowardly and grazed my arm before walking away.
"Rejected lover boy once again?" Salma came up to me, linking her arm through mine. I hadn't yet told her about Pedri. At first I didn't even see why I should, but I really needed to tell somebody.
"I feel like I'm leading him on, but I seriously do not wanna be his girlfriend or whatever he thinks we are." We walked into the tunnel and I was pulled into an interview.
"Y/N, that was a spectacular performance. However, many fans are confused as to why you weren't in the starting line up. Can you give us some insight into that?"
"Yeah well I wasn't training to me best standards in all honesty." The journalist nodded, signalling for me to continue. "Here at Barca everyone's replaceable. If you're not performing, someone else takes your place. It's the nature of this club. It's one of the reasons why I love it so much."
"How'd it feel to get a goal? It was a real tight game there, and you seemed to loosen it all up.
"I never take scoring for granted. It's a feeling I chase. As much as I love dribbling or assisting, or even tackling, nothing brings me as much joy as scoring does."
The interview continued for another couple of minutes before I made my way to a presumably empty changeroom.
Walking in, it was exactly what I guessed. I had a shower and changed into comfy clothes. Salma was driving us home, so she was probably waiting for me somewhere. I opened the door to leave the changeroom when I was met with a group. The group being Gavi, Pedri, and Salma.
Immediately, I made eye contact with Pedri who looked away. "Come on sissy, let's get home." We began walking in twos, Salma and I, Pedri and Gavi.
"You two were on fire today. There's surely a Ballon D'or coming your way Y/N." Gavi patted my back from behind, to which I turned around and smiled. "Thanks Pablo." Salma directed most of the conversation, Pedri barely spoke. Something was up with him.
"Pepi and I were so pissed when we couldn't see you on the starting lineup." Gavi said, making Pedri blush. "He started freaking out, thought you were injured and everything." I smiled to myself. It was cute I couldn't even lie.
"That's not true." His cheeks turned a darker shade of pink. He was embarrassed and it was adorable.
"Salma I need to tell you something." She jumped over the couch and sat next to me. "Spill." She then handed me a bowl of chocolate covered strawberries.
"Ok. So I may have kissed Pedri. No he kissed me. But I kissed him back." Her jaw dropped, and jumped straight up, dancing around me. "I called it! I fucking knew it!" I rolled my eyes.
"Yeah well you can calm it down because I think he hates me again." She sat down immediately. "Well you know how Alex came down?" She nodded. "Well I guess Pedri must've seen because he's been giving me the cold shoulder. He didn't even speak to me while we were all walking."
"So do you want me to set you two up?" I smacked her. "Don't you fucking dare."
omg guys sorry this took so long. lmk if you wanna be tagged in the next part and send me reqs!!
PART THREE HEREEEE
211 notes · View notes
kpop---scenarios · 3 months
Text
Reckless (9) - Final
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Pairing: Lee Know x Reader
Warning: N/A
Word Count: 2k
A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and enjoying this story! I'm so sad it's come to an end!
Taglist: @hyunjinhoexxx @ovulatingrn @jisunglyricist @guiltycoco @fawnpeaks @purple-bell @caught-in-the-afterglow @ana-marais98 @rylea08 @astraystayastayastray @partyparty-yah @skzswife @sillyhal @feellikecinderella @asphalstead @minh0scat @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @hyun-hwanj @zerefdragn33l @stelle-aka-simp @iambangchanswife
@seungminsapuppy @chanbahng29 @blackbluerose666 @mmarusa @gabriellamarie
@glitter-z
Previous Chapters
“I love you.” You tell Minho, grabbing his hands. “I'll always love you, but you and me, right now, cannot happen.”
His head drops, you can see his shoulders shake as you hear his breath shudder, letting it out. ”I'm sorry. But I need time. You need time. We need to heal, separately and if when I'm back in a few months, then we can see.” You whisper.
You did give him a guarantee. You couldn't. You didn't know how you were going to heal or who was going to help you heal. You couldn't tell him how you would feel in a few months. You had no idea yourself even.
“I'll wait for you. I'm going to start going to therapy, I'm really going to turn my life around to be the best version of myself for you.” He tells you.
“Don't do it for me, Minho. Do it for you. And if I'm lucky enough, I'll get to be with that version. But if someone comes into your life, don't reject them just because of me. If we're meant to be, then we will be.” You smile. “Now go, I have to finish packing and I have to be at the airport really early.”
“Can I take you?” He asks.
“Jisung is.. but you can come.” You say. He half smiles, nodding his head before turning out of your room. Your heart felt heavy and it took everything in you not to burst into tears and hold onto him for dear life. You didn't want to leave him but you knew if you stayed, things would get worse. The two of you would be toxic and you didn't want either of you to end up like that. You loved him as he loved you. And if your love was strong enough then it could withstand some distance.
“Be safe. Call me. Alot.” Jisung chuckles, giving you the biggest hug. You moved on to Jisoo, and then Hyunjin and then Chan, who all had also decided to come see you off. The last person you had there was Minho. You wrap your arms around him as he holds you so close. You take a deep breath, inhaling his scent for the last time for a while. You both pull away, you smile at him, he smiles back. He presses his lips to yours, a short, sweet peck. A tear rolls down your cheek. He wipes it away with his thumb, keeping his palm on your cheek.
“I love you.” He whispers.
“I love you.” You whisper back. You leave the group of the people you loved most in the world, walking through the gates to your fresh start.
When you landed, it was like you finally felt like you could breathe. You gathered your bag and went to the front doors of the airport, seeing a driver with your name on a sign. He took your bags, leading you outside to his car. The air smells different, it was almost crisper, fresher, the vibes were nicer, the people seemed happier. You immediately fell in love with the place, and you'd barely seen anything yet.
Over the next few days, you got used to your schedule, you finally met your roommate, she was so nice. You made a few friends from your classes and you felt like you were beginning to live again. As the days went on, they passed into weeks, and with every second, every minute, every hour, you thought less and less about Minho. You thought less about the agonizing months the two of you went through, the betrayal you felt from your own brother. Your mind was becoming clearer, and you were beginning to wonder if Minho was truly the right fit for you and you needed to find out if you were capable of loving someone else so passionately. So when a guy from your class asked you on a date, there was no hesitation when you said yes, and you honestly were so glad you did.
“You look gorgeous.” Keeho smiles, offering his hand to you. You happily take it, walking down the street from your dorm, following his lead. The two of you talked while you walked, looking in all the little shops, never running out of things to talk about it. It was refreshing, and so easy. There were no games, no secrecy, no toxicity and it was something you clearly had been craving. The sense of normalcy in a relationship, though you weren't sure if you were quite ready for that. You were happy enough to just be out doing things with someone new.
“So, what was your life back in your hometown?” Keeho asks. The two of you had sat down at a little restaurant with tables outside, ordering a few appetizers as the two of you learned more about each other.
“It was, um.” You pause. “Eventful?” You say, unsure of the word yourself.
“That's definitely a first.” Keeho laughs. “I've never heard someone describe their life as eventful.”
“It wasn't eventful in a good way.” You say, twiddling your thumbs under the table. “I don't really wanna get into it right now, but there are important people that hurt me, that I left behind when I came here. I needed a fresh start to clear my head.”
“You don't have to tell me anything if you're not comfortable.” Keeho smiles. “I'm glad you're here though.” He says.
“I'm glad I'm here too.” You grin. “And thank you for tonight. It's been a while since I've been this happy.”
“You have a beautiful smile. I would love to see you happy all the time.” Keeho says, just as the food is being brought out. You look down, hiding the blush that has spread across your face. Suddenly you see Minho in your head. A split second flash of his face and guilt consumed you. You knew you shouldn't feel guilty, you weren't dating him.
“You okay?” Keeho asks, bringing you out of your thoughts.
“Yeah, I'm all good.” You laugh, digging into the food. “Oh my god.” You say. “This is so good.”
“Right? I could eat here everyday.” Keeho exclaims.
That night, you laid in your bed, listening to the faint snores of your roommate as you stared at your ceiling. After Keeho had dropped you off, you took a shower, and called Jisung. It took all you had not to ask about Minho, you really just wanted to know how he was doing. A single tear rolls down your cheek. You close your eyes, picturing the way Minho wiped it away that morning at the airport. You missed his touch but you had only been gone for a month. It wasn't time, you weren't done with your healing. You were just beginning, still having four months left here.
Over the next few months, you and Keeho became almost inseparable. If you weren't in class, you were studying together, going out to eat, for drinks, hanging out with other friends. The feeling was quite indescribable but you were so happy and you really liked Keeho. Until, he leaned in to kiss you, and while he was a good kisser, and it was a nice kiss, the romantic feelings, the sparks, just weren't there. It was disappointing because he was such a nice guy, but you couldn't help how you felt.
“I really like you, Y/N.” Keeho smiles as he pulls away from you.
“I like you too..” you pause. His smile fades.
“But?” He asks.
“I really wanted to feel something romantic towards you. Like, desperately. But there's someone back home.. that I apparently just can't get over.” You sigh.
“Your first love?” He asks. You nod your head. “Is he the cause of those eventful months you talked about a while ago?”
You nod your head again. “Before I left, he told me he was going to try really hard to change and to do better. And as much as I want to move on from him, it seems to be impossible.” You sigh.
“I don't think the feelings of your first love ever really go away.” He chuckles. “I know if my first love popped back up, it would be over for everyone.”
“I'm really sorry.” You say.
“Don't be. But don't lose him, like I lost mine. I was such a piece of shit to her, but I wasn't willing to change for her. If he has changed then hold onto him, but if he hasn't, don't be afraid to let him go, Y/N.”
“I'm gonna miss you.” You sniffle, wrapping your arms around him.
After Keeho dropped you off that night, you made a quick call to the airline, changing your flight to the next morning, instead of a few days later like your original flight. You were ready to go home and see everyone. When you landed, Hyunjin and Chan were waiting at the airport for you. They smiled so widely as they embraced you tightly, groaning about how they were never going to let you go again.
“It's been like a year.” Hyunjin whines.
“It was like 5 months.” You giggle.
“That's basically a year.” He sighs.
“It's good to have you home.” Chan grins, ruffling your hair.
The three of you walk out of the airport, heading to the car where you were heading to surprise Jisung at home. He had thought you were arriving for a few more days, so you were excited to shock him by just showing up.
You leave your bags with the boys, heading straight inside, hoping Jisung was actually home. You open the door, walk in. “Helloo?” You call out. “Is anybody home?”
“Y/N!?” Jisung screams, running from the kitchen. He bolts straight for you, almost knocking you over as he wraps his arms around you. “How?” He gasps. “When? How?”
“I just missed you all too much.” You laugh, holding onto him even tighter. He lets go of you, taking your hand in his to pull you to the kitchen. “I have something to show you.” He says. You get into the kitchen seeing Jisoo standing there, facing away from you.
“Are you gonna hug me or what!?” You laugh. “Also so glad you guys worked things out.”
“Well we kinda had too.” Jisoo giggles, turning around. Your mouth drops as he rubs her belly.
“It's a girl.” She sniffles.
“I'm.. I'm gonna be an auntie?” You gasp. You rush over to her, hugging her so tightly before pulling Jisung in for a hug as well. “I'm so happy for you guys.” You whine.
“Jisung as a dad, who would have thought, huh?” You hear. Turning around you see Minho standing there, a smile on his healthy looking face. He looks happy, and so good.
“Never thought I'd see the day.” You smile.
“Good to have you back, Y/N.” He says, walking up to you with his arms open. You walk into him, wrapping your arms around him. It felt so good, so right. It felt like home.
“I missed you.” You say.
“I missed you too.” He says. “How was it?”
“It was good.” You tell him, releasing him from the hug. “I met a lot of really great people.” You smile.
“Did you.. move on?” He asks.
“I hung out with this guy for a while, he kissed me, but it just didn't feel right.” You say. “But he really helped me heal and figure things out.”
“I'm glad you were able to heal, and become yourself again.” He tells you.
“Me too. You look well..did you.. move on?” You ask.
“No.” He chuckles. “I had a lot of self reflection to do and a lot of self improvement to work on. Y/N, I swear.” He pauses. “If you give me one more chance, I will never make you feel the way I did. I promise you.”
“I think.. I'd like to start over.” You grin.
He laughs. “Well in that case.. Hi, my name is Minho and I'd really like to take you out for coffee.”
“Hi Minho, I'm Y/N.. I'd really like that.”
The end.
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