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#I KNEW HE WAS AN INTERNATIONAL ICON
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I knew Micah wasn’t a great guy but I was a fool to think he had any redeeming traits.
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kissforyouu · 7 months
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pairing : jungook x reader
genre : smut , angst
warnings : against the car , in the car , oral sex ( f recieving ) , spanking , jealousy , ft. lil bit of taehyung ;) , toxic relationship , uses of words like "slut" (during sex) , exhibitionism (kinda) , teasing , unprotected sex
a/n : idk what this is but hope u enjoy LOL. and dont ask me why the name of this is woof woof woof idk either umm
.・゜゜・  ・゜゜・. .・゜゜・  ・゜゜・
Me and him were always on and off. Jeon Jungkook, I mean. Not the man I was currently on top of right now. That's Kim Taehyung. He was hot, very hot, and the fact that he was Jungkook's best friend made it even hotter. Taehyung knew me and Jungkook were something, whatever we called it. But at this moment, he did not give a single fuck.
His head was thrown back as his hands roamed under the silk material of my black mini dress, all over my ass. My clothed core was pressed against his crotch, grinding slowly. Hands tangled in Taehyung's messy locs, his tongue licks over the spot right under my ear. He nibbles and sucks on the spot gently, taking his time.
I continued moving my hips, begging for some more friction. I wanted something, but not skin to skin contact. Not with Taehyung. I had other plans.
A small moan slips past my lips as I grab Taehyung's wrist before placing it on my right breast. Taehyung's eyes flicker with excitement, his hands immediately squeezing both of my breasts tight. I could tell he was excited, to touch me and to hold me, too bad you weren't going to let him get his way. Didn't think Jungkook's so called best friend would be this unloyal.
I let out a small whine purposely into Taehyung's ear, pretending to be feeling something, as my hand slide into his pocket to pull out his phone. Laying back a bit, I look at Taehyung with puppy eyes, signalling him to unlock his phone. He raises his eyebrow at me, a little confused.
"Wan' to give Jungkook a show..." I tilt my head to the side, giving him my most seductive smile. Taehyung lets out a devilish laugh as he unlocks the phone. Men are so easy.
I place a kiss on his cheek as a thank you, my eyes scanning through his messenger app in search of Jungkook's chat. I find it, the corner of my lip curving into a smirk. I click on the small camera icon at the bottom of the chat, then pressing record.
Looking at the camera with my eyes big and glossy and the prettiest smile on my face, I then look down to Taehyung, who's face was now smothered in my tits. Cracking up my laugh, which I know Jungkook loves, I push Taehyung's face further into my tits. He wasn't even doing anything, why's he so boring.
You pretend to like it, arching my back more, fake moans escaping my mouth as I grind myself onto him. To make my man who'll be seeing this even madder, I make sure to moan Taehyung's name.
"Mmm, Taehyung!" it sounded so fake but that didn't matter. You knew Jungkook would recognise how fake that was anyway. All I wanted to do was to make Jungkook mad. For him to take me home after, then fuck the living shit out of me, then tell me he loves me and make up. And for then, not that I want it, but for this cycle to repeat because one of us just have to fuck up each time. But I didn't care, not one bit, I'd go back to him each and every time. And I know he would too.
Without wasting more time, I click send. It didn't take a second for Jungkook to view the message. Internally, I was giggling at sight of the two blue checkmarks. I almost forgot about the man beneath me.
you : [video]
jkkk🤘🏻: ???
rlly y/n? im omw, he better not be on ur fucking cunt when i get there.
My eyes beam at his reply. He's on his way. Please come quickly and get me away from this man. You let out a groan, way too bored. He was still on my tits, just touching them all over.
About 5 minutes of the same thing — yes, 5. You wonder if he's ever had a woman on his bed before — Jungkook comes crashing in. We were at a party, he knew where we were because you guess Taehyung must've told him where he'd be tonight, definitely not expecting to have me grinding on him. You watch Jungkook's eyes scan the party trying to find us, with your head resting on top of Taehyung's shoulders as he did whatever he did.
Jungkook looked so good. He had his shoulder length hair down, a black wife beater on, his pants hung low rise showing off his calvin klein boxers which I love with a black belt to hold it all together. And to add the cherry on top, he also had a thin silver chain dangling from his neck. Not just any chain, it was the I had gifted him. He was a walking snack, no wonder every woman turned their heads to look at him wherever he went. Too bad, he's mine.
Jungkook's eyes land on mine, then on the man I was on. His eyebrows furrowed, oh he was mad, his tongue poked his cheek as he walked towards us. In no time, he hand was on my arm, pulling me off of Taehyung.
"Really, Taehyung? My girl, out of everyone?" My girl. I felt butterflies in my stomach. I hear him yelling at Taehyung a few more words, but they all sound muffled to me. The only thing I could focus on was "my girl". If only he made it official. We've been boyfriend and girlfriend so many times, breaking up and getting back together. I don't care. I'd still do it. To be with him.
After spitting his last few words out, he turns his head to look at me, eyebrows still furrowed and mad.
"And you. Could've just fucking called me. Had to fuck my best friend to get my attention? Huh?"
He looked so mad, I loved it.
Jungkook's grip on my hand never leaves as he storms down through the crowd with me, leaving Taehyung all alone and frustrated. I grip onto his bicep as we walk down the stairs.
I sigh, breaking the silence.
"I missed you"
"Yeah, fucking right, Y/n. That's why you went and seduced my best friend?"
I sigh, releasing his arm.
"I missed you a lot, Jungkook. I'm sorry about before. I just — I don't know, okay? Sometimes I get so insecure about you with other girls. I don't know how you are, considering how we're always on and off and never stable."
"Oh, yeah? So that makes it okay for you to grind your ass on Taehyung?!" He raises his voice at me. We were literally yelling at eachother in the car park.
"JUNGKOOK! I don't want Taehyung, I want YOU! I don't know why I did that but everything I do is because of you, and FOR YOU because I want you, and-and I don't want you to b-be with some other girl! I'm sorry, okay? Fuck, I got jealous and I stormed out of your house and today I got with Taehyung because I wanted to make you jealous and I wanted you to come pick me and take me home and make love to me and-and then we'd go back to the usual! As always! Like we always do! We always break up and then—"
I was shut up by him crashing his lips onto mine, pushing me against his mercedes. The kiss was rough and hungry, he had both of my arms pinned onto the car. He then pulls out,
"You ramble way too much sometimes, baby"
His thumb skims past my lower lip, eyes shifting from my lips to my eyes. He kisses me again, taking my lower lip between his lips as he gently sucks and bites on them. I melt into his kisses, my body almost sliding down the car but he holds me up with his arms that are holding onto my waist. We make out for about 1 more minute before I pull away, desperately in need of air.
He stares at me with a smirk before I try to catch my breath, his finger twirling one of my curls.
I calm my breathing down, finally, then look at him with a smile. "You good?" He says, teasingly, his knee coming in between my legs. I nod my head, feeling his knee glide up my thigh slowly. I let my clothed pussy sit on his knee, my hands traveling up to my breasts to squeeze them through the material. I nod, my eyes drowsy. Jungkook's knee begins to rub my clit slowly, creating some friction. But not enough.
I begin to grind onto his knee as he lets out a laugh.
"This is what you wanted? Hm?" He lightly slaps my cheek. I nod my head repeatedly. I let out a shaking breath, fastening my pace on his knee.
"Yeah, go on, get yourself off on my knee like the slut you are" his fingers caress my collarbones, slowly gliding them down the small dip of my top to highlight my breasts, his fingers now disappearing in between them. His eyes were filled were lust, tongue poking his cheek, his fingers hook onto the top of my dress before pulling down enough to expose my breasts. I swear I saw his eyes sparkle for a good two seconds. That just made me wetter.
Unknowingly, a moan slip past my lip as I find myself reaching my high. This was so fucking embarrassing in a way, cumming from just grinding on his knee. But it didn't matter, it was him.
"Aah, ah!" I rub my clit over my panties a few several times, finally feeling myself release. It felt like a sticky mess down there. My chest rises up and down as I let out a few breaths out. Shit, I just came. Suddenly, I feel the embarrassment kicking in. My face flushed in red, I try to look away to avoid the gaze of the man whom I just got off of.
"Too embarrassed now? Look at yourself, baby, you're fucking worn out from just my knee" He laughs. It almost feels mocking.
Jungkook's hands glide up my thighs, hooking onto the bottom lace of my dress as he lifts it upto my waist. Right now, my mini dress was just hiked up to my waist from both ends, leaving me almost completely naked.
The smirk in his face never disappears as Jungkook gets down on his knees. His eyes fixed on my wet clothing. Hands now on the waistband of the lace material, he pulls them down upto my knees. My bare pussy all wet and out for him, Jungkook wastes absolutely no time before diving in with a long stripe.
Fuck, finally.
My back arches, hand immediately flying to grip onto his long hair. His tongue licks my bud in a circular motion, then up and down my folds. I feel him place a few kisses all over, making me even wetter. Jungkook releases a breath, then a small hum and he dives back into my pussy. His eyes were closed, displaying his pretty lashes, his mouth skillfully working down there. I moan out his name, thrusting my hips forwards onto his feet. Jungkook groans into my pussy, sending vibrations down me.
"F-fuck...so good! Baby, don't stop" My head was thrown back against his car, tits out, back arched, pussy getting eaten. It was quite the view. Not to mention, we were still at the car park. Anyone could run into us anytime.
Jungkook pulls away for a moment just to spit on my pussy, and before it could dribble down my legs, his tongue catches it as he licks his trail up, back to my clit before he circles my sensitive bud again. He rubs it in the form of an 8, his hand now in between my legs, middle finger rubbing my folds. I feel and hear him hum once again, right before his finger enters me slowly, making me let out a gasp.
I quickly cover my mouth with my hands, lowering my head down to look at the man in between my legs, eating me out and fingering me so good.
I feel his big arms on my thighs, nails digging right into the flesh as they part out my legs even more. Jungkook raises his head up to look at me, letting me get a clear sight of his face fully covered in my slick as his tongue and fingers continue to work on me so good.
His teeth suddenly tug onto my bud, pulling it a bit before releasing it. Shit, he's driving me crazy.
I roll my eyes back, back arching even more. A long whine escapes my mouth as I look down at Jungkook who was now sucking hickeys onto my thighs while his fingers worked on me.
Fuck, I wish I could have him in between my legs like this every single day.
A few seconds later, a gasp leaves my mouth along with a series of whines and moans. Shit, I really was a mess. I was cumming, again, this time all over his mouth and chin. Some even dripped down to the floor and onto his tank top. I stared down at him. I couldn't help but think of how fucking hot he looked like this. Hair messed up, face flushed red and my juices all over him.
"Jungkook, so good..." My chest was rising up and down trying to catch my breath, but I could feel Jungkook's gaze fixed on nothing but my breasts. Next thing, he stands up, his hand digging inside his front pocket to pull out his car key. Impatiently, he unlocks the car.
"Get in the car, baby"
I don't bother replying, already knowing what's happening. A small giggle slips past my lips as I open the car door, stepping inside. I make sure he gets a full view of my ass out in the air and legs spread. In return, I get a spank on my right cheek and a laugh.
I laugh back, making myself comfortable as I just lay there, ass up face down at the back of the car. I didn't need him to tell me twice.
"You know me so well, Y/n." His hand leaves another spank on my right cheek. I hear him get in the car, then close the door. Thankfully, the car was big enough for the both of us to be moving like this.
Jungkook takes in the sight in front of him, his hands palming my cheeks. He then spreads them apart, spitting right in between. He groans as he watches it dribble down my cheeks. His fingers come in contact with my pussy, spreading my juices around so good. I let out small moans, feeling my body relax.
Jungkook's fingers leave a small pat on it before retrieving his fingers back. Right after, I hear the sound of his belt getting removed. The thought of dick inside me itself could make me cum just now. I was so so ready to cum, for the third round.
I turn my head around took at him as he pulls down his pants, then his boxers, and finally releasing his dick out. And god, was he big. He pulls it out then gives it a few pumps. I wiggle my ass, running out of patience.
"Jungkook, I want you inside me now. Please." I emphasise on the 'now'.
"Alright, baby. Anything for you" his lips leave a small kiss on my asscheek. My breathing halts for a second at the feeling of the tip of his dick rubbing against my folds, so teasingly slow.
"Mm, I'll go crazy..." I feel my eyes getting drowsy at the feeling.
"Me too, sweetheart, me too." His other hand glides up my back, caressing it gently. Jungkook pushes in his tip, just a little, making me let out a long whine. He's teasing me!
"Fuck you! Just fuck me! Please!" I almost let out a cry.
Jungkook mocks me once again with a laugh, his tip now a little bit more in. Fuck, why's he doing this. I groan, thinking of taking things into my own matter. My eyes roll back as I bounce back on his dick.
"Shit!" He was now fully inside me, and I couldn't name a better feeling. I grip onto the leather of the seat, slowly gliding myself up and down his dick. Shit, he was so perfect.
"Mmm, so fucking desperate for this dick? That's what you are now?" His palms lay flat on my ass cheeks, supporting me as I bounce backwards on his dick. I nod my head repeatedly as an answer, shouting out small yesses.
My moans and Jungkook's low groans were all we could hear, and the faint sound of his dick going in and out of my heat.
A few more thrusts later, I feel myself getting tired.
"Fuck..." a groan leaves my mouth, my body instantly falling down to the seat. Sex is a whole workout.
"Tired already?" His fingers brush away a few strands of my hair that's sticked to my forehead. I nod, finding myself relaxing to his touch.
Jungkook's smirk grows wider, he flips me onto my back, his body now hovering over me. He looked so majestic, tall and beautiful. My eyes travel from his broad muscular shoulders, down to his arms — big, tattooed and veins popping out —, his sharp v-line, then upwards to his abs glistening with sweat. Eyes traveling lower, I take the image of his dick in, standing tall and proud. Fuck, I think I got wetter.
Unknowingly, my lips part and a small whimper goes out. Jungkook raises an eyebrow, that smug look on his face never leaving.
I know I'm boosting his ego so much right now, for sure.
Jungkook grabs my hand, starting to trail kisses slowly from my fingers to my arm. He kisses my arm, then along my shoulder blade, his other hand pulling my thighs apart. My mouth leaving out a few whimpers, I play with my breasts at the sight of his hand now pumping his dick again. One last tug on my nipple, Jungkook thrusts his dick inside me again, both of us letting out gasps.
He starts to thrust in and out, slowly. I whine loudly, eyes closed and lips apart.
"Baby, fuck— you're so wet!" Jungkook breathes out, fastening his pace. I was so wet that we could hear the sound of it. I bite my lower lip, both hands gripping onto his shoulders. His pace increases more and more, same way my nails dig deep into his shoulders. I know for fact that he'll see nail marks all over his skin next morning. His hips crash into mine repeatedly, balls slapping against my ass cheeks. Fuck, is there anything better than this?
"Jungkook, you're so good, you're making me feel so good~" I moan out, gasping and grunting in the middle. His head bops repeatedly, eyebrows raised, face filled with pleasure.
A few more powerful thrusts later, I feel my high reaching. "Shit, I'm gonna cum" I shout, his thumb on my clit, rubbing fast — adding some extra friction. "Fuck, you're gonna cream my dick nice? Yeah?" He lands a few spanks on my ass, never slowing down his pace. Jungkook's eyes glue onto my tits as they bounce up and down due to his fast pace. I clench around him, his low groans and grunts being his respond as my clenching never stops.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—" a series of curses leave my lips, eyes rolling back I feel myself orgasm all over him. My cum leaks out, making a mess when his hips clash with ass repeatedly. We were so sticky and sweaty. The smell of sex was taking over.
Jungkook arches his neck back, thrusting in a few times more before he pulls out, tip leaking with cum. He jerks himself off onto my stomach, a bit landing on my tits even. His cum spurts out, cum all over my upper body.
He sighs, his chest rising up and down, same as me. I mewl, eyes closed as I try to catch my breath.
"Fuuuuck," Jungkook groans, "that was hot." I laugh a little at his comment, lightly nodding my head.
He smiles at me before reaching his arm out to the front of the car, then grabbing a pack of tissues. Jungkook returns, pulling out a few tissues and then wiping my chest with it. Then down there as well, I relax at the feeling.
He then throws the dirty tissue away, locking eyes with me.
I crawl onto his lap, my arms engulfing his neck. Jungkook hums, wrapping his arms around my waist. My head on his bare chest, I relax to his little caresses. If only we could lay like this forever. There was a small silence between us. I could tell that we both were thinking about what I had said before, right before we started get all over eachother.
"Jungkook." I decide to break the silence.
"Yeah?" He answers immediately.
"I'm sorry."
"Me too."
I pull away to look at him, his big eyes already looking at me.
"I'm sorry for making you jealous with Taehyung. I shouldn't have done that." I admit.
"And I'm sorry for going out with Aeri before. I should've told you, baby, fuck, but I promise we didn't do anything."
He says, sincerely.
"Okay." I nod.
"Can we—can we please get back together?"
"We never broke up. You just stormed out mad." He says.
I press my lips tightly, feeling guilty.
"Jungkook", I press the side of my cheek onto his chest again.
"Do you still love me?"
He cracks a small laugh, "Baby, what are you asking? I've always loved you."
"I think we have issues." The words leave in a small, almost inaudible voice. I don't want to admit to it.
"We always fight, breakup, then we make eachother jealous, then we make love, then we make up—then it repeats." I murmer.
Jungkook sighs, I could tell he was admitting to what I was saying.
"Give us one more chance, baby. Let's work this out. I promise you this time. I'll be everything you need."
"You're already everything I need." I whisper.
"I love you, Y/n"
"I love you more, Jungkook"
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shurisneakers · 2 months
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unsolved (i)
Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or any shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)
Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, Very Loud reader, images and memes that all have alt texts.
A/N: yes this is literally harmless in a different font. do not ask me if anything doesn't make sense. i cannot explain. i resurface every 3 years to present you with ideas born from menty b's. ANYWAY shout out to my beloved ryan and shane. pls enjoy <3
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Bucky doesn’t appeal to the youths.
Apparently. 
On God, he cannot fathom why.
He had definitely left the house in the last six months, maybe. Smiled in at least two pictures that existed on the internet. He even knew what Discord was. Sort of.  
By all accounts, he should be treated as the modern day icon that he was.  
“The youths?” he repeats, the word so foreign on his tongue it felt odd to even say it.
“Your numbers are the lowest of the whole team.” The latest tech-dude, with a tablet twelve models ahead of the one Bucky had in his room, tells him monotonously. “Wilson, Romanoff and Barton score the highest. Everyone else lies around the middle. You are dead-last.”
Bucky has the audacity to look offended. 
“Anything to say?” Their PR head, Maya, asks him, amused. 
He stares, formulating the wittiest one liner he could in three seconds.
“I don’ care,” he mumbles. 
Maya sighs. “Look, the team took the decision together. As far as I’m aware, you are still a member. You need some PR if you guys want to stay in the public’s good books.”
“No one’s gonna listen to me.” Bucky wasn’t exactly the poster child for American values. He couldn’t even vote until three years ago, and that came only after the full wrath of a Steve Rogers descended on the email inbox of the DMV. 
“That’s why it’s important to get them to like you,” Maya emphasizes. “Or the idea of you at least. A very sanitized, corporate friendly version.”
His eyebrow twitches unintentionally.  
“And also you signed the contract.”
Well. Shit. 
Truth be told– and he has openly and rather loudly stated this on numerous occasions even especially when no one asked– he doesn’t understand why they need a PR team. The world has calmed down significantly over the last few years. Bucky hadn’t really been out crime-fighting as much as he was people-watching. There hasn’t been an earth-shatteringly dystopian-level event in the longest time, and there seemed to be a group of spandex-clad teenagers who seemed to do a good job at taking care of them when they did threaten to occur. Go kids.
Even if they needed PR, he could arguably understand the appeal of Sam and Nat and why the people would want to see more of them. Bucky, on the other hand, looked like he crawled onto Earth most days of the week. 
“What do I have to do?” he asks ultimately, knowing there was no way to get out of this. “Interviews?”
The intern shares a look with Maya. Bucky shares a look with the ceiling. 
“The team agreed to do a series of videos, each focusing on a different niche,” she begins, “Crash courses on science, pointing out mistakes in spy movies. Once a week.”
Bucky nods along. He can pinpoint Bruce and Nat for those.
Maya stares at him.
Bucky stares back.
“So,” she says slowly, like he’s a moron, “you would–”
“No.” 
The intern sighs heavily like they discussed that this was going to happen. Bucky was getting predictable. This annoys him even further, for some reason.
“Only once a week, and it doesn’t have to be anything crazy–”
“I’m not doing videos,” he interjects. “I’ll tweet a few times. I’ll even go outside. But ’m not doin’ videos.”
A big step was to get the Avengers off Twitter after the regular shit-storm that occurs every time they’d quote-tweet another politician calling them shitheads. Getting them back on seems counterproductive. 
“Fine,” Maya relents, looking at the intern. “We'll work something out.”
Bucky leans back in his chair, and meditating on ways he can weasel his way out of those too.
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So they stick him in a couple of interviews.
Bucky, as the recluse extraordinaire that he was, does unsurprisingly terrible at them.
Variety does a piece on him that was supposed to take up 2 pages. They send back half a page worth of usable material and Bucky gets a lecture on how monosyllables don't count as answers.
He grunts in return. Maya’s itch to smack his shoulder with the rolled up draft increases.
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They set him up for pap walks. Just him getting fast food for the team, or sitting in the park.
They don’t take into account that Bucky was trained professionally for years on how to hide, sneak in and out of places without a soul knowing he was ever there. 
The paparazzi spend three hours waiting for him outside the pizza place, while he’s been home for two hours with two demolished pepperonis and an order of mozzarella sticks. 
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They give him access to his Twitter. 
He tweets some dumb shit and gets shadow banned by that evening. 
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Maya is sick and tired, and the interns have shifted three times since the whole ordeal started. Bucky honestly feels a little bad. Maybe he should try to be like Scott, who not only wrote a book, finger-gunned at photographers, did an interview a week, but also agreed to a podcast and a video series about literally anything they suggested. 
“Play nice,” Sam tells Bucky one evening. 
It’s an off-hand comment, not even really looking at him while he says it. 
Bucky doesn’t need to ask what he’s referring to, but he thinks that maybe he has gone too far.
He begrudgingly agrees. 
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Therefore, it begins. 
They stick him in the background of a few videos. Just to interact, add his commentary on what was going on, suggestions. 
Then the jokes really start.
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“I just don’t got anything to add,” Bucky tries, in a failure of an attempt to justify his lack of contribution. 
Maya only stares at him, but Bucky swears he can hear her curse quietly, even though her lips don’t move even a millimeter.  
He is not put in another video. 
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And so he finds himself here. 
In a meeting room that he’s convinced is barricaded from the outside so he can’t slither out the door again. Another intern with pink-tinted glasses that took up half their face.
Maya’s in the midst of explaining to him that sure, his numbers had gone up by a decimal, but that was because people had started editing him into the backgrounds of other pictures for other users to find in a perplexing take on Where’s Waldo.
“Videos seem to be working,” she ties it together. “But we need more than you just standing silently behind Captain Rogers.”
“But it’s working,” Bucky objects. “I don’t see why it has to change.”
Maya sends him a glare. Bucky decides then it’s good to shut up. 
“Are you on the internet a significant amount?” the intern asks. The glasses on their face have changed colours to green. Bucky’s eyebrow furrows. 
“No.” 
For the next thirty minutes, he is subjected to a pop quiz about too many words ending with ‘core’, ‘coded’ and ‘eras’. He’s surprised that he knows what cottagecore is. He definitely doesn’t fucking know what a tomatogirl, nor does he want to. 
“What do you like doing?” the intern enunciates, pulling up a spreadsheet of niches that had built a dedicated community around themselves over the years. “Makeup? Cleaning? Parkour?”
Bucky wonders if they’d really create a montage of him just micro cleaning the kitchen every week. It doesn’t sound half bad. 
Beyond that, the only thing he can think of is woodworking, which Sam introduced him to. While he spends time creating little figures, he wouldn’t say it was– 
“You really are dead silent,” the intern breaks his train of thought, tone almost that of wonder. “Guess the whole ‘ghost story for seventy years’ is more true than I thought.”
Bucky throws him a weary look, and works on unclenching the fist that tightened involuntarily. 
“Was that necessary?” Maya’s voice comes coldly. “Take fifteen. Go find the other one we were supposed to meet.”
While sheepish and somewhat apologetic, the kid still looks relieved to be out of there. To be honest, Bucky isn’t really offended– he’s grown a thick skin over the years. But he also thought the guy was a little shit now. 
Maya turns back to him, but Bucky finds that the table contains wonders far more interesting than the conversation at hand.
“Back to what we were talking about.” She ruffles through something on her laptop. “Puppets? History?”
He wordlessly shakes his head. 
Been the former, seen too much of the latter.
Maya’s head tilts abruptly. “You like ghosts?”  
He wonders if the prior conversation had anything to do with this insightful question. 
Bucky shrugs. “Don’t exist.”
“Really,” Maya deadpans. “Aliens and multiversal baboons are fine, but no ghosts.”
“I’ve seen aliens and multiversal baboons. Never seen a ghost in my life,” Bucky argues right back.
“Other people have seen ghosts.”
“Good for other people.”
The door swings open right as Maya’s eyes narrow at him. Guess it wasn’t padlocked. 
“Whatever it is you think I did, Maya, I didn’t. I think,” you announce in a volume too much for a closed room, stopping when you see Bucky sitting cross-armed and looking delightfully disgruntled. “Oh hey, Barnes. Fancy seeing you here.”
Bucky had met you. The newest addition to the team that had made a grand entrance a couple of weeks ago. He thinks you stay on the floor below him, but he has nothing backing this hypothesis other than the disco funk music that had started appearing at odd hours of the night. 
“Please sit,” Maya cracks a smile at you that Bucky had yet to earn. “Sorry, I know our meeting is scheduled for later, but I figured we could kill two birds with one stone.”
You look between her and Bucky, who hasn’t moved an inch since you got here, much less even said hello.
“You must be really bad if Maya had to call me in,” you tell him outright. “I’m usually like, her last option.”
“Thanks,” Bucky replies dryly. 
“Look, here’s my final pitch.” Maya sighs, before turning to you. “You’re new, and we need something to introduce you slowly to the public.”
“Oh, am I finally getting hard launched?” You grin, and Bucky doesn’t know what that means. “Just imagine me kicking my feet, giggling or whatever.” 
“And he needs… an upgrade.” Maya’s thumb juts out towards Bucky who simply rolls his eyes.
“Right.” Your sight lands on him from across the table. “I’ve seen the memes.”
“What memes?” he grunts, because while the team had definitely seen them, it didn't occur to anyone they should show it to him. He loves them. Really. So much. Die for them. 
You only look too happy to pull out your phone and start typing.
“Do you know what skinwalkers are?” 
“No.”
“That’s what they say you look like, lurking in the back of all your friends’ videos,” you continue, swerving around your phone to show him.
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Bucky doesn’t look impressed. He can’t say he blames them either, which makes him inexplicably maddens him.  
“At least they’re calling you their boyfriend,” you add, entirely unhelpfully. “That’s gotta count.”
“Right.” Maya clears her throat. “The both of you–” 
“Are getting paired together, I suppose,” you hum. 
Bucky’s eyebrows pull together. 
He barely knows you. Just a little bit on how you ended up here, that you enjoyed hanging out with the team, figuring out your place in the compound, and were seemingly doing a great job at it. 
You were… loud. And open. 
Bucky feels the compulsive need to compensate for that by doubling down on how silent he could get, as if the two of you couldn’t co-exist in the same space in equilibrium. 
Maya pointedly raises a finger at you. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
“For the right price, I will believe in whatever you tell me to.”
Her face lights up brighter than Bucky's ever seen.
“Great.” Maya slams her laptop closed. “See you later.”
Bucky’s left staring as she exits, not even throwing the both of you another look.
“That was quick,” your voice cuts through the silence. “What was that all about?”
 “Don’ ask me,” he grumbles, with a sinking feeling that he knew exactly what was about to follow. 
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“Ghost hunting?” Bucky echoes a week later, as expected.
“Yes,” Maya tells him simply. “Two of you. A series based on paranormal activity.”
“I don’t even believe in them,” he reiterates. 
“That’s the point,” she emphasises. “Skeptic and believer. It makes for a good contrast.”
“Why us both?” He hopes it doesn’t come off as offensive. He just doesn’t see why he can’t do this with Sam. Even Clint, if a gun was really pressed to his head. 
“I’m new, no one gives a shit about me,” you say brightly and full of promise. “Yet.”
“Exactly. It’ll be low key. Not an overwhelming number of viewers, no expectations. It’s perfect for launching one Avenger and re-launching another.”
“Sounds rad.” You grin, leaning back as your feet rest on the chair in front of you.
Maya looks relieved for a moment that at least one of you was on board. “No promises on anything. We shoot one video, and if it does well, we stick with it.”
“What if I don’t want to?” Bucky argues. 
“Then you have until tomorrow morning to give us another feasible idea,” Maya dishes back.
Bucky retreats into his seat, arms crossed over his chest. 
Truth be told, he considered himself to be the most boring person in the team and though he had made his peace with that, he was sure thar bringing that up now would entail Maya shooting him in the foot.
“Fine,” he agrees and the sighs around the room are loud. 
He scoffs. So fucking dramatic and for what.
“Put her there, partner.” You stretch ungracefully over the large table, sticking out your hand.
Bucky eyes your hand. “Do you even believe in ghosts?” 
“I do now, yeah.” You nod seriously. “Love ‘em. Can’t get enough of them.”
“One video,” Maya reminds him as a balm. “And if it doesn’t work, you’re off the hook forever.”
Off the hook? Forever? For Bucky?
Yay. 
“One video,” he reiterates.
You roll your eyes before smiling when he leans forward to grab it. You yank it up and down clunkily. He blinks at you, letting go slowly. 
“Thank fuck,” Maya groans, head dropping onto the table. 
Your smile is wild. “Guess we’re doing this shit together.”
He doesn’t even have to look very deep in his soul. He already knows he’s going to suffer.
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here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!
to keep up with updates for this fic and others, please follow @shurisneakersupdates and turn on post notifications!
also i'd absolutely love to make this a community led fic like how harmless was! if you have memes or any paranormal ideas or just any prompts in general, please please send them my way <3
Next part
534 notes · View notes
lnfours · 7 months
Text
summer love | l.n
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summary: part 2 to this request but make it ✨summer break ✨
warnings: fluff, language, all the feels, lando being 100% whipped. fem!driver x lando :,)
masterlist | part 1 | ask box
₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
it was officially summer break, a whole month off of racing to recharge the batteries, spend time with family and friends and just do normal people things.
but all you could think about was him. it was sickening. you weren’t sure how or why, but you found yourself thinking about lando a lot more than you should. and you knew you shouldn’t, he was your teammate, but something about that day in the drivers room made your heart rate spike.
you were laying in bed, scrolling through instagram when you had come across his story. you held down the picture, examining it as you looked it over.
it was a picture of the sunset, the location tagged london, england. you furrowed an eyebrow, he spent his summer break at home? before you knew it, you were sliding up, adding a comment underneath the picture.
you’re home for summer break?
you bit down on your lower lip after you had sent it. surely he wouldn’t reply, he was probably off having a good time, enjoying his life and not thinking about you-
yea, feels good to be home. where’d you go to spend holiday?
you clicked at the top of your screen, opening the dms. you had saw the previous dms being memes you had sent one another a while back, the two of you going back and forth about who was funnier.
it was you.
actually, i’m here too 😅
you saw his icon appear at the bottom of your message before it changed to say he was typing. you tried so hard to ignore the way your stomach was doing cartwheels.
out of ALL the places you could’ve chose from, you picked london? stalker much? 🙄
you let out a soft laugh, typing back a whitty response.
you wish i was here to see you, norris 🥱 no, i’ve just never been. always been on my bucket list to come outside of racing
typing…
i do, actually. i miss you
you read it over and over again before another message appeared from him.
also, where are you staying? we can meet up, get coffee or something? i can show you around 😁
okay, now you were internally screaming. you clicked on the photo option, snapping a picture of you in your bed, adding the location of the hotel you were staying in before sending it. he opened it almost immediately, sending another picture back. he was shirtless, sunglasses resting on his nose and you noticed he had grown out his facial hair. the sun was still setting and it looked like he was on a beach.
you’re literally 15 minutes away from me. hang out with me, i’m bored ☹️
you smiled before sending another picture, this time of the tv in the hotel which was currently playing an episode of a show you had seen a million times before.
can’t, busy :/
another picture from him, this time he was in his car. he had a shirt on now, the white fabric making him look tanner, his hair messy. how could someone look so good?
too bad, i know where you are 🥰
you took a picture of yourself giving him the finger, a playful smile on your face.
ok fine, but you’re getting me food
he replied with another picture, this time of his hand on the steering wheel. the mclaren logo on the center was the star of the show, the four little lines on the bottom making an appearance.
deal, see you soon
you double tapped his photo, throwing the covers off of your legs before making your way to your suitcase. you grabbed a pair of shorts and an over size hoodie, tugging it on before fixing your hair. you opted on no makeup, slipping your sunglasses on before grabbing your bag. once you made sure you had everything, you made your way to the lobby.
in the elevator, your phone pinged.
your chariot awaits, m’lady
you rolled your eyes and smiled, typing back a response.
coming to lobby now, mr. uber driver
he double tapped your message and when you walked through the doors of the hotel, you immediately spotted him. he was waiting for you, leaning against the passenger side door. you smiled, approaching him as he smiled back at you.
“hey,” you said, the two of you reaching for a hug. he wrapped his arms around your waist, desperately trying not to hug you too tight as you slung your arms around his neck.
“hey,” he smiled back, “ready for the best tour of london you’ll ever get with your favorite guy?”
you looked around, a playful smile on your lips, “lewis is here?”
he rolled his eyes, shoving your arm softly as he chuckled, “oh, fuck off.”
you laughed back at him, letting him open the door for you. you smiled and thanked him, letting it close as he made his way to the drivers side. you took note of each little personalized detail of the car, smiling softly at how much of his personality was put into it.
“so,” he said, starting the car, “anywhere in particular you wanted to see?”
you shook your head, “no, but if you want, you could show me your favorite places.”
he nodded, pulling out of the parking lot, “i’ve got the perfect place for you.”
you couldn’t help but smile again as you looked over at him. he handed you his phone, spotify open, “play whatever you want.”
you raised an eyebrow, “whatever i want?”
he nodded, “yeah, curious to see what kind of music you listen to.”
you smirked, typing in ‘summer love’ by justin timberlake. the song boomed through the speakers and he laughed, turning it up slightly as he made his way to one of his favorite spots.
after more songs, which may or may not have included some one direction songs (which he surprisingly knew all the words to), and some small talk later, he pulled into a parking spot at the overlook. you both got out, standing in front of the car as you looked out at the view.
“wow,” you breathed, “this is stunning.”
you looked up at the sky as you finally got to see it’s beauty without any light pollution. he smiled, leaning against the car as he shoved his hands in his pockets.
“yeah,�� he looked over at you, “it is.”
you looked over at him, “you’re looking at me like that again.”
he raised an eyebrow, but the smile still sat on his face as he shook his head, “no idea what you’re talking about, doll.”
your stomach did a flip and you walked in front of him, your legs between his, “how many girls have you brought here?”
he snorted, “none, only you,” he looked up at the stars now, his neck on display for you. his fluffy curls were pushed back with his sunglasses, his nose and cheeks slightly red and covered in sun freckles from being outside all day. he looked so pretty like this to you, who was still standing in front of him and god you wish you didn’t look awkward staring at him like this, “kind of a place where i come if i need to get away, just think for a little bit.”
you finally adverted your eyes back to the sky, “yeah, this would be the place to do it.”
he nodded, “so, to answer your question, none. guess that makes you special.”
you gasped, “i’m special to the lando norris?”
“don’t start,” he rolled his eyes playfully, “you’re like, P3 at best.”
“well you know what they say about being third,” you said, “they have the treasure chest.”
he chuckled again, the soft breeze of the night whisking a hair in your face. he carefully reached out and brushed it back, “actually, you get 15 points. cmon, you’re supposed to know this, y/n,”
you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face even if you tried, “you would know, huh?”
your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling it out and reading the notification.
⚠️ time to bereal ⚠️
you clicked on it, looking up at him but he was already looking at you, “wanna be in my bereal?”
“sure,” he said and you smiled before clicking on the notification.
however when you held your arm up, you started laughing and not being able to take yourself seriously. lando laughed with you.
“hurry! take the picture or it’ll be late!” he laughed and you pulled yourself together before laughing again. you weren’t sure what it was. if it was how close he was to you or how happy you were right now, but he took the phone from you.
“jesus christ,” he laughed as he raised his arm up, pulling you in by your hip. you wrapped both arms around his neck, smiling at the camera. he turned the phone around to get the other picture, this time he turned his head towards you and you faced him with a smile. he smiled back, your hand resting on his cheek. the flash went off and he brought his arm down, but you still kept his face in your hand.
you took the phone from him, “thank you,”
“yeah,” he smiled, “anytime,”
you locked your phone, slipping it back into your pocket before looking at him again. he still had the same look on his face, almost like he was-
“i like you, y/n,” he said, “a lot.”
you smiled, heart jumping up to your throat, stomach doing flips, and you swore you were going to pass out when he placed his hand on your cheek, thumb stroking the skin, his fingers starting to move into the hair behind your ear.
“i like you too,” you said, and that was all he needed to hear before he was pulling your neck towards him, lips connecting with yours. your body felt like it was on fire as his hands moved from your face to your hips, shifting as he leaned back against the hood of the car, taking you with him as you laid on top of him.
the kiss got hot, his tongue poking out to lick at your bottom lip. at first you didn’t let him in, which made you giggle against him. but, the giggling turned into gasping the minute he tugged on your hair gently, allowing him to sneak his tongue in.
he finally broke the kiss, the both of you panting. you hadn’t realized that your hands were in his hair, it now being a mess of frizzy, beachy curls. his lips were red and puffy, pupils blown. you were so in love.
your phone buzzed in your pocket, taking it out and almost laughing at the notification. he smiled at you, but raised an eyebrow in confusion, “what? what’s funny?”
you turned your phone around to show him oscar’s comment on your bereal:
oscarpiastri81: WHAT THE FUCK??!?!
he laughed, pulling you as close as he could while you typed out a response to your teammate, “you hungry?”
you nodded, slipping your phone back into your pocket, “starving, actually.”
he nodded, taking your hand in his as you stood up, “i know a really good spot not far from your hotel, think you’ll like it.”
you smiled as he opened the door for you, you thanked him with a quick kiss on his lips, “sounds perfect.”
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homeofthepeculiar · 1 month
Text
Over the Garden Wall - Chapter Nine
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Chapter Nine - This Sweet Plague
A.N.: heyyyyy this one is long...and a roller coaster
There is some smut (not terribly graphic imho), if that's not your thing, I totally get it. Stop when Benedict says "I have never been this sure about anything." It lasts until the end of that section. Next section starts with "The next morning..."
There will be a vague summary of what happens at the end so you're not confused lol
Title is from Flesh and Bone by Keaton Henson
Benedict Bridgerton Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Warnings: smut 👀 (oral f!receiving); period accurate sexual innocence; disgustingly romantic proclamations of love; the beginnings of a fit; iconic father George; memory loss; depression; discussion of mental illness
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Princess!Reader
Word Count: 7.2k
As always, 18+ Minors DNI!
It took almost a week for Mrs. Willoughby to let Y/N out of her room. That meant that she was forced to get dressed considering she was only let out for meals. It felt strange, wearing a corset again after having spent so much time outside of one. She found that she really didn’t mind the structure, though. It felt…normal. 
The abnormal part, however, was the dinner conversation. Usually, it was Y/N who tried to start intellectually stimulating conversations. After a while, her father would catch on. This time, however, that was not the case. In all honesty, the princess' heart was not in it.
“Are you feeling better, my darling, Y/N?” he wondered.
“Yes, Father,” was her response.
He spoke about a book he had read. He had already told Y/N about the book months ago, but she let him explain it again. She gave the appropriate nods and sounds of intrigue when appropriate, but she simply let his words flow through her. She did not have it in her heart to care.
She picked at her food, pushing around the cold potatoes. The only thing that made her smile was the unnecessary garnish on the meat. Sprigs of rosemary and flowers. She picked them off and made a wreath on the table beside her. 
“Have you received letters from your betrothed, Y/N?” he wondered.
Betrothed. The princess sighed internally. No, she had not received any letters. She had not received word. As far as she knew, Benedict had fallen off the face of the Earth. As far as she knew, he wished to never speak to her again. And, although it pained her more than she could put into words, she could not blame him. 
“No, Father,” she responded. “Mother does not approve.”
“Nonsense,” he scoffed. “I shall speak to her.”
“Not tonight,” she responded flatly. “It is no time for conversations such as this, Father.”
“Quite right,” he said with a nod. “Quite right.” They sat in silence for a few more moments until her father made an amused sounds. “Oh, Y/N, did you see the peacocks at the wedding? How magnificent!”
“Yes, Father, I saw them. Quite marvelous.”
“Your mother has always had immaculate taste.”
“Yes, Father.”
She could feel eyes on her, so she looked up. She met Reynolds’ eyes for only a second before he looked away. She did not know him well enough to get a read on him, not like she could with Brimsely or Marietta. She supposed she had all the time in the world to get to know him now. 
“I believe I shall retire,” her father said. “Good night, Y/N.”
“Good night, Father,” she responded, still looking down at her plate. Reynolds ushered The King out of the dining room but not before giving Y/N one last look. She wanted to know what it meant, she wanted to know what he saw that she didn’t. She just did not know how to ask. 
“I am finished,” she said, pushing her plate away. In a second, a footman swept in to take her plate. 
“Would Her Royal Highness wish to retire?” another footman asked.
She took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes, alright.” As she stood, he pulled her chair out fully. She made her way back to her bedroom. The drab, empty, hollow bedroom. Mrs. Willoughby was there waiting when she arrived. 
In silence, she allowed the woman to unpin her dress, undo her corset, and put her into her nightdress. The curtains were closed and the candles were snuffed out before she even laid her head on the pillow. 
----------
Benedict followed his mother down the stairs into their rather empty ballroom. The Sharmas and Lady Danbury entered only a few moments later. Still, it was empty, no one had arrived. It was clear that both Violet and Lady Danbury were not only confused, but feeling rather snubbed. Though, that was to be expected, it seemed.
They had hoped that their little story would do well to persuade the ton to their version of the truth of what had happened at the wedding. It appeared that it had not worked, in fact. Benedict found the silver lining in this, of course, as he turned back up the stairs. 
“Wait,” Anthony said, grabbing Benedict’s arm. “You will stay for a dance.”
“A dance?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
“There shall be dancing,” Anthony proclaimed to everyone. Violet seemed surprised, so he simply smiled at her. “A new perspective, yes?” They all watched him, waiting for his next move. “Hyacinth!” he called out. His younger sister poked her head up from behind the balcony. 
“Yes, Brother?” she wondered. 
“Come down here and do me the honor.”
Hyacinth was over the moon with this turn of events so she ran down immediately. Gregory looked at her, then back at his siblings. “If she gets to dance, so do I!” he called out right before running down after her. 
Lady Danbury seemed to enjoy the turn of events as she handed one of the footmen her cane. 
“Something lively,” Anthony called out to the quartet. “A country dance, perhaps?”
As the music started, so did the dancing. And, although no one else had arrived, they had fun. Benedict twirled Eloise around the ballroom, allowing himself a moment to just forget everything. 
The moment the music stopped, however, the awkwardness of the situation seeped in. Lady Danbury immediately went to Violet as they tried to attempt to understand exactly what had happened. The Dowager Countess had the idea to ask the maids, seeing as how they usually knew everything. 
It turned out that they knew something, indeed. 
Lady Whistledown had published something of a scandal. Not the old scandal that the Bridgertons had found themselves in, but a new one that would put them in an even more public light. A light they had been so close to get out of. 
Eloise Bridgerton, accused of being Lady Whistledown herself, had been consorting with political radicals. Of course, this came as a shock to everyone, especially her mother. Eloise, however, did not know how to explain herself. She could not, in fact. For nothing written there had been false, only twisted and turned into a much larger story. 
She ran from the hall, unable to even look at the people around her. 
“Ma’am,” one of the footmen said as he approached Violet. “There is a guest.”
“A guest?” Violet asked, surprised. Her head was swimming as she turned to see another footman leading a young woman into the room. She was not dressed for a ball, by any means. In fact, she seemed of a lower station. She also appeared rather distressed. 
Those that had been left at the ball turned to her as well. Though, she did not shrink under their gaze. In fact, she held her head high, as though she was used to behavior such as this. Violet’s eyes widened even more when Benedict stormed past her over to the young woman.
“Marietta, right?” he asked. “Is something wrong?”
Everyone looked over at them, confused, but Benedict was not paying attention. “Mr. Bridgerton—” 
“Benedict,” Violet said, putting on a smile that told him he had better explain what was going on immediately.
“Lady Bridgerton,” Marietta said with a well-practiced curtsy.
“Oh, is this her—”
“No, Mother,” Benedict stepped in. “Marietta, what is wrong?” he urged.
Clearing her throat, Marietta pulled out a letter and handed it to Benedict. They all watched on as he read it, his emotions changing drastically. “I did not now who else to go to,” Marietta said quietly. “I was dismissed after—”
“You did the right thing,” Benedict assured her. “I…I must go.”
“Benedict,” Violet said, surprised. “Please explain what is going on.”
“There is no time, Mother,” Benedict said. “I will be fine.” He looked at Marietta. “Will you get home alright?”
“I will be fine, Mr. Bridgerton. Please write to me after you see her. You will find my address on that letter.”
“I will,” he nodded. He darted off almost immediately, leaving everyone behind to look rather confused. 
Violet looked at the woman in front of her. The woman she had never met but seemed to know her son. “Care for a drink?”
Marietta laughed and covered her mouth. “Thank you for the offer, Lady Bridgerton, but I must take my leave.” She curtsied again. “You have a lovely home.” She finally took a moment to look around the room, her eyes landing on Lady Danbury’s. They seemed to share a look for a second. The Dowager Countess gave her a simple nod, which made her smile. With that, she turned to leave. 
“What the devil was that about?” Colin wondered. 
“I do not know,” Violet said. She gave herself one moment to take a deep breath and turned back to the group. The Sharmas seemed prepared to take their leave, Edwin rather hastily making her way away from Kate while Lady Mary watched on with anguish. “I apologize for the intrusion, well, both of them.”
Lady Danbury smiled and took Violet’s hands. “Not all is lost, Lady Bridgerton. I believe your family will come out on top once again.”
----------
Carriages moved much too slowly for Benedict’s liking. It also did not help that he had no idea where he was going. He had found an address jotted down on the back of the letter. He handed it to the carriage driver who seemed to have some inkling. That would have to work. He was not going to wait, he would not let anything stand in the way of helping her. 
On the ride that seemed to last forever, he read the letter once again. 
Marietta, 
I hope this finds you well. When I heard of your dismissal, I must admit, I was rather surprised. You have been a close confidant of Her Royal Highness for some time, as I am to His Majesty. You know, as well as I, that they are two truly exceptional people, despite their lot in life. 
I am writing you now to inform you that Her Royal Highness has been rather unwell these days. Not in the ways to which you or I are accustomed, but in other ways. Mrs. Willoughby is now her minder and she seems rather set on taking away whatever free will Her Royal Highness had. 
Her Royal Highness has been locked in her room day and night since her arrival, only coming out to join dinner just this night. I watched her as she ate. Gone was the young woman I have come to know over the course of her life. A shell has replaced her. 
You have always been her closest friend, Marietta. I do hope there is some way out of this for Her Royal Highness, for I fear the worst. 
Sincerely, 
Reynolds, His Majesty’s Royal Footman
Benedict watched London go by and the right into the countryside begin. He tapped his foot on the floor of the carriage, fear, anger, and anxiety taking over him. The driver had not told him how far it was but, considering the price of the ride, it was a bit out of the city. Not as far as Aubrey Hall but far, still. 
He had paid the driver extra to go faster, but he wasn’t sure if this was fast enough. Finally, in the distance, he saw a house. A palace, rather. Then it really hit him. He was not playing white knight for some average woman, he was set out to rescue a princess. He would, no doubt, find trouble there.
Even so, it was worth it.
“Stop here,” he called out to the driver. He stepped out and rounded the front of the carriage. “If I am not back in thirty minutes, I am probably dead…” The driver’s eyes widened, but he nodded. Benedict took a deep breath and started down the long walk.
As he neared the palace, he saw a smaller building off to the side that was golden with a domed roof and somehow seemed misplaced in time. There were a few footmen milling around, all who turned when he walked up the gravel drive. 
He gave a nervous laugh. 
“What is your business here?” one of the footmen asked.
Benedict cleared his throat. “I am here to see Princess Y/N.”
The footman’s eyebrow curled minutely, which was saying a lot, considering that all servants had long since practiced their stoic expressions. He was most likely very surprised at this turn of events. 
“The Princess is not taking visitors.”
“Please,” Benedict said. “I know that it is late and I know that this must seem rather strange, but I need to see her.”
“Sir,” the footman said. “You have trespassed on a Royal residence, I suggest you take your leave.”
Benedict had to stand his ground. “No, just tell her that it is Benedict, she will want to see me.”
“Sir, I must insist—”
“I insist,” Benedict countered. The other footmen descended onto the scene, surrounding him. “Oh, god,” he muttered under his breath. “Please, I am not here to harm anyone,” he said carefully. “I simply require an audience with the princess.”
“Require?” the footman asked, as though he was surprised at Benedict’s audacity. 
“What is this racket?” a new voice said. It was older, deep, scratchy. The footmen all jumped away and bowed.
“Your Majesty,” they all said.
Benedict’s eyes widened and he gave a bow as well as the man, The King, walked up. 
“Ah, who are you?” he asked Benedict in a nicer voice than the man had expected.
“Benedict Bridgerton, Your Majesty,” he responded. His eyes shifted from side to side. The King did not have the same suffocating presence as The Queen, but he was still royalty. Benedict had no idea how to act around royalty. 
“Bridgerton,” The King said, mulling the name over. “I know that name.” He clapped his hands together. “What are you doing here?”
“I…” Benedict started. He looked at the footmen, all who seemed to be awaiting his response and their subsequent orders from The King. “I am here to see Princess Y/N, Your Majesty.”
“Ah,” The King said with a wide smile. “Are you the man from the letters then?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The King’s smile somehow widened. “Wonderful! Reynolds!” he shouted. Another footmen ran up with a bow. “Please fetch my darling, Y/N. Tell her that a man is here to see her.” He finished his sentence with a giggle. The footman, Reynolds, was the one that had sent the letter to Marietta. He did not seem all too surprised by the intrusion. However, he was surprised that it was Benedict there and not Marietta. 
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
The King smiled and walked over to Benedict, patting him on the shoulder. “Well, come inside, my boy. We shall have a spot of tea.” Benedict stammered but followed after The King. As they made their way inside, The King turned to him, looking him up and down. “Tell me, Bridgerton. Are you a farmer?”
“A…farmer, Your Majesty?” Benedict wondered.
“Yes, you wear the strangest clothes.”
“Oh,” Benedict choked. “No, Your Majesty, I am not a farmer.”
Benedict allowed himself to be led into a sitting room. It was smaller than the ones he had seen around Buckingham House, cozier. The colors were deep and rich and the walls were filled with paintings. “They are lovely, yes?” The King wondered, seeing Benedict looking at them all. “Y/N painted them. Every single one.”
Benedict couldn’t stop the smile on his face. He turned to see The King watching him with a slight smile. A maid arrived soon with the tea and Reynolds reappeared, ushering The King into a chair. Benedict hesitantly sat down opposite him. 
“Her Royal Highness will be down shortly,” Reynolds said with a bow before moving over to the corner of the room, where he took up his post. 
“Thank you, Reynolds,” The King said. He took a sip of his tea and made a satisfied hum. “My daughter seems quite taken with you,” The King said to Benedict.
Benedict felt his face flush. “And I, her, Your Majesty.”
“Yes,” The King nodded. “She has not spoken of you recently.”
Benedict’s face fell. “We…There was a bit of a misunderstanding, Your Majesty. Nothing that Her Royal Highness did wrong—”
The King cut Benedict off with a laugh. “Oh, no need to lie, my boy. Y/N has always been a bit of a story teller.”
The door opened and Y/N rushed in, looking a bit out of breath. She looked between the two of them as Benedict shot to his feet. Her eyes focused on him, never leaving. It was as though she was not sure if he was real or not. “Benedict,” she said quietly. He had no idea how much he missed her saying her name. He could not stop his smile. “You’re here.”
“I’m here,” he said.
The King smiled at the two of them. “I was just getting to know your farmer, Y/N.”
“Farmer, Father?” she wondered as she made her way further into the room.
“Yes, look at his clothes, Y/N.”
She couldn’t stop the laugh that left her. She had to cover her mouth before it descended into something rather unladylike. “Yes, Father, I see your meaning now.”
The King nodded and stood. He walked over to Y/N and whispered something to her that Benedict could not hear, but her face softened. “Come, Reynolds, I should like to retire to the observatory.”
“Your Majesty?” Reynolds wondered, looking between Y/N and Benedict.
“Reynolds,” The King said with wide eyes.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” he responded, allowing The King to leave the room before him. Surprisingly enough, Reynolds closed the door behind him. 
Y/N took a moment to stare at the ground before she looked up at Benedict. Just as she did, she noticed him walking closer to her. Slowly. 
“How are you here?” she wondered, looking at his face, memorizing every line.
“Reynolds sent a letter to Marietta. She came to find me.”
“Oh,” Y/N said with a shuddering breath. “Is she alright?” she wondered.
“I must admit, I did not have much time with her,” Benedict said, rather ashamed. It had not crossed his mind just how important the woman had been to Y/N. He would make sure to check on her the second he arrived back in London. 
Y/N simply nodded and walked over to the chaise. She sat down and patted the seat next to her. Benedict took it without protest. He watched as she stared at her wringing hands in her lap. “I am so sorry,” she said quietly. “I did not want to lie to you, but…there are things that…that I cannot tell you.”
“You can tell me anything,” he said. “I wrote you, you know?” She looked up at him, surprised. “Then…Well, it was apparently intercepted by…your mother. Who…She told me I was never to see you again nor write you.”
Y/N's face fell. “Benedict, do you know what you are risking being here right now?”
“It does not matter to me,” he responded truthfully.
“It should,” she choked. “Like I said, there are things that…that Mother wishes to be kept secret. I am one of them. This palace is another.”
“Why?” Benedict asked. He slowly placed his finger under Y/N's chin, pulling her face up to look at him. “Why would anyone want to keep you a secret?” The heartbreak in her eyes was not something that he had expected.
She turned away, staring down at the ornate rug beneath their feet. “I want to trust you, Benedict,” she said softly. “But I am terrified.”
“Trust me,” he said carefully. “I will keep your secrets.”
Her lip quivered and her hands shook. She took a deep breath, her eyes closing. “There is a reason that I have been in Buckingham House for my entire life. I…I have an affliction. Illness, rather.” She turned to Benedict who was not looking at her with pity but rather confusion. “You know how my hands shake all the time?” He nodded. “I…I experience these fits, they are called. I do not know how to explain them for when they happen, my mind is…elsewhere. There is no cure and…it will only get worse as I age.”
Benedict’s brow furrowed. “Your father…”
“It is hereditary,” she said with a nod. “If anyone would find out that their King is not mentally fit to run the country then…Well, you can imagine.” Again, Benedict nodded. “Mother believes that…should anyone find out about me, it will only be a matter of time before they find out about Father.”
“Y/N…” he said quietly. 
She shook her head and wiped her eyes before the tears could fall. She took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to calm her shaking hands. In a second, Benedict’s hands reached for hers, taking them carefully. “It is a constant fight to stay present. Every day. I lash out and I break things and…I am a danger to myself and others.”
“No, you are not,” Benedict said. “I have spent enough time with you to know that you are nothing but kind and beautiful.”
“You have seen me on my good days, Benedict,” she said quietly. She relished in the feeling of his hands in hers. “They will become few and far between as I age.”
“I do not care. I do not care about any of this. Your title, your illness, they do not matter to me. All that matters to me is you and your happiness.”
“Benedict,” she said quietly. “I could not do that to you. I see the toll that this has taken on my mother. The man that she fell in love with is so rarely there anymore.” She felt the air in the room start to leave as she scrambled for breath. Spots danced in her vision and her body started to shake. She was vaguely aware of Benedict calling her name, but she could not reach him. 
He took one of her hands, placing it over her heart, and moved her face towards his. “Look at me,” he said quietly. Y/N tried, she really did. “Breathe with me, alright?” She tried to focus on the rise and fall of his chest under her hand. Finally, she looked into his eyes, finding nothing but love. 
“I’m sorry,” she said, pulling away. She turned to the side so that she was not looking at him. She straightened her back and took a deep breath. “It will stand in the way of your happiness, Benedict. Your life.”
“You are my happiness,” he said. He shook his head, wondering why she did not understand. “Every moment with you is worth it. Good or bad.”
“You say that now,” she started, turning back to him fully. “But what about in forty years when I can no longer go in public? When I am such a risk to myself that I cannot leave the house? When I am so low that I cannot get out of bed for days? What then?”
“Then we will not leave the house,” he said. “We will not leave the bed. But we will be together.”
“Benedict, you know that this is not possible. My mother is The Queen of England. She does not approve and I do not know how to make her.”
“Your father seems to,” he said with a shrug. “Is that not enough?”
Y/N sighed. “There is nowhere we could go to escape the reach of my mother’s power. Nowhere.”
“We must try,” Benedict said. “Tell me that you want to try.”
“Of course, I do,” she cried. “I have been a mess these days without you.”
Benedict gave a short, thick laugh. He nodded. “I have been much the same.”
Y/N placed a trembling hand on his cheek. “Can you ever forgive me? For lying?”
“I forgave you before I even knew the reason.”
Y/N pressed her forehead to his, her shoulders shaking as she forced back her tears. “I love you so much.” He pressed his lips to hers, tasting the saltiness of her tears mixing with his own. She pulled him in closer, as close as she could, pouring all of the love she had for him into the kiss. 
“I am going to marry you one day,” he said quietly against her lips. “It does not matter how long it takes.”
The breath hitched in Y/N's throat. “I would really enjoy that,” she chuckled. There was a knock on the door then, so they pulled apart. Reynolds entered the room. 
“Your Royal Highness,” he said with a bow. “His Majesty insists that…Mr. Bridgerton stay here tonight, citing that London is much too far.”
Y/N couldn’t stop the smile on her lips. “Alright, thank you, Reynolds.”
Reynolds looked between the two of them, a rather exasperated look on his face. She turned back to Benedict. “I hope your family will not miss you much.”
“They will surely have questions tomorrow, but I will have time to come up with answers.”
They simply stared into each other's eyes for a moment, unwilling to part. Reynolds cleared his throat, making them both turn back to him. “I will escort Mr. Bridgerton to his room.”
Y/N contained her eye roll, but nodded. She stood just as Benedict did too. Their hands brushed as he walked out of the room. Reynolds allowed Benedict out into the hallway first. He turned back to Y/N, a small smile on his face. “It is nice to see you smile again, Your Royal Highness.”
“Thank you, Reynolds,” she said with a nod. “For everything.”
He gave her a bow before leaving the room. 
----------
Y/N made her way to her room shortly after, noting that there was light coming from beneath the doorway of the bedroom across from her. She shook her head with a laugh. Both Reynolds and her father were truly masterminds of the highest proportion. 
When she entered her room, Mrs. Willoughby was there once again. 
“Medicine,” she said, handing the dropper to Y/N. She took it without protest, her nose scrunching at the taste. Silently, Mrs. Willoughby undressed her, then made her way out of the room. Just as Y/N was about to climb into bed, she heard voices on the other side of the door. Confused, she got to her feet. Then, the door opened.
Her father stood in the doorway, a smile on his face. “My darling,” he said. “Sit, I wish to speak to you.”
Y/N nodded and followed her father over to the small table, waiting for him to sit before she did as well. “Your farmer,” he said. “Is quite the tenacious man, it seems.”
“Quite,” Y/N said.
“And you are set on him?”
“Yes, Father,” Y/N responded instantly. “I am in love with him.”
Her father smiled at her. “Your mother will come around, Y/N. It will just take time. You know her.”
“I do,” she said with a nod. “But what if she does not?” the princess wondered. “What if…Mother does not allow it? Father, I do not think I could bear it.”
“Y/N,” her father said softly. “Your mother…has been hardened by everything that has happened. But still, inside, I see that girl that I married. I know she is there. We will speak to her.”
Y/N took a shuddering breath. “Alright, thank you, Father.”
“And…” he said. “I have ensured that your farmer’s presence here remains unnoted.”
Y/N couldn’t stop her laugh, but she nodded. “Thank you, Father.”
He gave her a wink and stood. After he closed the door, she waited for the sound of the lock, but it never came. With a furrowed brow, she went over to the door and pressed her ear against it, wondering if there was someone outside standing guard, but there was no one. Slowly, she opened the door, looking in either direction but finding the hallway empty. 
She chewed at her bottom lip, considering her choices. Quietly, she made her way into the hallway and shut her door, making sure that the click did not echo. She crept down the hall and stopped in front of the door to the bedroom across from her, the one that still had light peeking out from under the doorway. Slowly, she opened it and stuck her head in.
“Benedict?” she called out.
“Yes?” he asked.
She stepped in fully and searched for him. “Where are you?” Then she saw his head poking out from the floor beside the bed. “What are you doing on the floor?” she asked with a chuckle.
“Looking at the ceiling,” he responded. “Have you seen it?” Y/N craned her neck up, seeing her unfinished mural. She walked over and laid down beside him. 
“I have,” she said. “I painted it.”
“Really?” he asked, wide eyed, as he turned to her.
“Mmhmm,” she responded. “It is unfinished.”
“It is magnificent,” he said. “Your father told me that the paintings in the sitting room were yours as well.” Again, Y/N nodded. “You are very talented.”
She gave him a small smile and turned her head to his to find him still watching her. “I ran out of room in my bedroom at Buckingham House and Father insisted that the walls of this palace be filled with my paintings. So, when I finish one, we send it off here. I do not get to see them often.”
“You don’t spend much time here?” he wondered.
“Not usually,” she said. “I come to visit every so often and Father comes to Buckingham House sometimes…I come to visit him because it is rare that anyone else does besides Mother. My siblings surely do not. In fact, I have not seen any of them in…well, quite some time.”
“I am sorry,” he said, a sad furrow to his brow.
Y/N shrugged. “It is alright. We are not close. I was close to Alfred when I was younger but…that all changed when I…when I had my first fit. I was fifteen…everything changed after that.”
“I will get you out of here, Y/N,” he promised.
“I believe you,” she responded quietly. She turned fully on her side, her arm tucked under her head. “Are you certain about this, Benedict? I need to know because I cannot hold out hope if…one day…”
“I have never been this sure about anything,” he said. He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. “I am certain that I love you.” He pressed another kiss to her cheek. “I am certain that I will marry you.” His lips trailed to her neck as she fell onto her back. “I am certain that I will spend every day of the rest of my life showing you how amazing you are.”
“Benedict,” she sighed. “What are you doing to me?” she asked in disbelief.
“Whatever do you mean?” he muttered with a devious smirk, his lips against her neck. Her head fell back, giving him even more space. 
“Everytime you touch me…I feel as though I am on fire,” she said through a breath.
“Oh, I shall stop then,” he said in a mocking tone.
“Don’t you dare,” she said, pulling him back to her lips. She tugged at his neck and shoulders until he settled atop her. She sighed in contentment at his weight on top of her. She had never felt so safe. When he kissed her, it was different than it had been before. He had never kissed her like that. It was deep and passionate and her mouth opened with a gasp but he did not stop. His tongue grazed against hers and she could not stop the moan that left her. His hand started to graze down her side and every touch sent jolts of electricity through her. “Please,” she sighed.
“Please, what?” he responded, his traveling down to her next. Her back arched when his hand met her thigh. Even though her nightdress, she could feel the heat of his skin against her.
“Well, I…I do not know,” she said in frustration. “Something…just…I need something.”
He moved the shoulder of her dress and latched his lips to her collarbone, making her shudder beneath him. “We cannot do more without being completely improper,” he muttered.
“Is this…not…already…improper?” she said, trying to catch her breath. She found that, for the first time, she did not mind having trouble breathing. As long as he kept doing whatever it was that he was doing, she would gladly suffocate. 
Benedict hummed against her skin. His hand trailed down her leg until it met the skin of her calf. “I am a gentleman, my love,” he said. “And you are a princess.”
“No,” she sighed. “I am just Y/N.”
Benedict chuckled, his tongue trailing a line from her collarbone to the spot right behind her ear. “Well, Just Y/N. What is it that you want?”
She made a sound of frustration, her hands carting through his hair. She tugged him back up to her lips and pulled him down. He chuckled against them. His hand started to graze up her leg again, this time underneath her night dress. 
“You are being withholding,” she groaned against his lips. “I do not like it.”
“I would never,” he said against her lips. “I will do whatever you ask of me.”
“Well, I do not know what to ask for,” she said through clenched teeth. 
He pressed his lips to her cheek for a moment before beginning again, his lips at her neck, her collarbone, lower. “Do you want me to touch you?” he asked, his fingers trailing up her leg. They stopped at her knee, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the inside.
“Yes,” she moaned.
“Do you want me to touch you here?” he wondered, his fingers moving up toward her inner thigh.
“Yes,” she said.
With his free hand, he started to undo the tie of her nightdress. He looked into her eyes, waiting for a moment of hesitance, but found none. He pulled the dress away just to reveal the top of her breasts. “Here?” he wondered, his lips pressing to the skin.
“Yes, Benedict,” she said with a sigh. “Everywhere.”
“Here?” he asked, his other hand grazing up her leg even higher. He reached the juncture of her bare hip, her head falling back.
“Yes.”
He hummed again, his lips moved down her breast, nudging the fabric aside. Her nipples hardened in the cold air. “Here?”
“Benedict, I swear—”
She was cut off by his lips wrapping around her hardened bud. She let out a loud moan, her hands pulling at his hair. “Shh…” he said softly. “I should not like us to get caught,” he said, moving back to her lips. “I fear I will be unable to stop.”
“O-Okay,” she breathed. “I…Benedict, please,” she moaned. His hand that was settled on her hip bone started to move to the side. To her center. She stuttered a breath.
“Here?” he wondered.
“Mmhmm,” she moaned through closed lips.
“Would you like me to kiss you here?” he asked.
“What?” she asked, surprised. She looked up to see him smirking at her. “Yes, yes, whatever you want. Please, Benedict.”
“Alright, my love,” he said, pressing his lips to hers once again. “Remember to stay quiet.” She nodded frantically as he kissed down her body once more, paying close attention to her breasts. “So beautiful,” he muttered under his breath. He hitched her night dress up, revealing her to the air. He settled between her spread legs, a groan leaving his lips. “Perfect.” His lips trailed up the juncture of her knee to her inner thigh. She covered her mouth to stifle her loud moan as he nipped at the skin. 
She waited with bated breath as his lips and hands explored every part of her. Despite being exposed, she found that she was not embarrassed. She was simply desperate. She opened her mouth to say something but had to clap her hand over her mouth again the second he ran his tongue up her center. 
“Oh, god,” she muttered under her breath. Her hand gripped his head as her back arched off the ground. He wrapped his arms around her lips, keeping her pressed down to the ground. When he pulled away, she made a noise of displeasure.
“Look at me,” he said, pressing a kiss to the juncture of her hip. “Do not look away.”
Y/N nodded as she sat up on her elbow to keep eye contact with him, her other hand still running through his hair. He dove back in with an unrestrained fervor. She had to bite her lip to keep quiet. Her eyes threatened to roll back into her head as his tongue entered her, but she did not. She listened to him. She kept looking. 
His finger joined soon enough, pressing at a spot on her that made her toes curl. Her lips parted in a gasp, but she stayed quiet. As quiet as she could. 
“Ben,” she sighed. “I…” She did not know what exactly, but something was happening. A feeling started to build within her. The burning grew even stronger. She felt as though she might explode. He continued his work, pressing in harder, his eyes never leaving hers. His thumb pressed against her spot, his tongue working around every inch of her. 
There was a string inside of her pulled so tightly that she feared it might break. 
Then it did. 
She tried to keep watching him, but she couldn’t. Her eyes rolled back into her head and somehow, she remembered to cover her mouth as a moan ripped through her. Her head fell back, her back arched. She felt euphoric. 
He seemed unwilling to part with her as his tongue licked up every inch of her. She let out a whimper, tugging at his hair. He pulled away, kissing her thigh once more. He muttered something against her skin that she hardly heard over the blood rushing in her ear. “Good,” he said. “So good.”
As she tried to catch her breath, he kissed up her body once again. Lazily, she reached out for him, pulling his lips to hers. His lips were wet and tasted bitter but it sent a thrill through her.
“That…” she breathed heavily. “Was…”
“Yes,” he nodded, placing his forehead against hers. “You did so well.”
“Oh, I love you,” she sighed, her head falling back. Benedict pressed his nose to her neck and took a deep breath. 
“I love you so much,” was his response. 
“I want more,” she said quietly.
“Not tonight,” he chuckled against her skin. He sat up on his elbow and ran his fingers down her face. “Once we are married…I will show you everything.”
“There is more?” she wondered. “More than that?”
“So much more,” he said, pressing his lips to the corner of hers. “I will show you how to seek your own pleasure. How we will seek ours together.”
“I want to make you feel as you have made me feel,” she said quietly.
His lips quirked in a smile. “Soon,” he promised. 
Slowly, he parted from her and got to his knees. He reached for her, pulling her to a seating position. His lips descended on hers again, though slower than before. “I want to fall asleep beside you,” he said against her lips.
“Yes,” she said with a smile. “I want that too.” Carefully, he ushered her into the bed. She watched as he removed his shirt and she felt that feeling again. He must have noticed the look in her eyes for he tsked. 
“Sleep,” he said with a quirked brow. 
She could not stop the smile even as she rolled her eyes. She fell against the pillow and reached for him the second he got under the covers. He pulled her into his chest and kissed the top of her head. 
“I want it to be like this always.”
“It will be,” he said. “I promise.”
----------
The next morning, Y/N snuck back into her room right before Mrs. Willoughby found her. The woman surveyed the princess, somehow knowing that something had happened, but she did not speak on it. She simply helped her dress and ushered her outside. 
As she made her way down to the dining room, she found Benedict and her father engaged in a rather lively conversation. She watched on with a smile on her face.
“Ah, darling Y/N,” her father called out as she walked on. “Have you heard that Farmer Ben is studying art at the Academy Schools?”
“I have,” she said with a smile. “I am very proud of him.” Her hand grazed his arm as she passed him to make her way to her own seat. It was pulled out for her and pushed in as she sat down. She watched Benedict as her food was served. He was listening intently to The King, chiming in when necessary. It did not feel forced, by any means. It felt natural. 
“Y/N, you should study there as well,” her father said.
“Oh, Father,” the princess chuckled. “I do not think they would allow that.”
“Nonsense,” he said. “I will have words with them.”
She shared a look with Benedict, giving him a light hearted roll of her eyes. “I fear I am not the best student, Father.”
George hummed and nodded. “Well, with that, my darling, I must agree.” He turned to Benedict. “She scared off many a governess as a child.”
“Father,” Y/N admonished.
“Did she?” Benedict asked with a twinkle in his eye. “I did not know you had such a mischievous streak.” The wink he gave her was so minuscule that no one else would notice it, but she did, and felt her face flush. 
As soon as breakfast had finished, Y/N walked Benedict out of the house to the carriage that had been called for him. She grabbed his hands, not caring that people could see. “If you write to me here, the letters will come through…hopefully. I will have to get by Mrs. Willoughby, of course.”
“Is she terrible?” he asked with a scrunched nose.
“Yes,” Y/N said instantly. “Nothing I cannot endure for the time being.”
“Soon,” he promised. “We will get you out of here and we will marry. I promise.”
“I believe you,” she said. She looked around, noting the footmen that were gazing out into nothingness. “I want to kiss you terribly right now.”
“I know,” he said through a breath. “I do as well.”
She placed her hand on his cheek, rubbing his cheekbones. “This will work out, right?”
“Yes, it will,” he said with such confidence that she almost believed him. It was terrible to send him off in the carriage. It was terrible to watch it go, but, as she turned back to the house, she had hope in her heart that it would all work out. 
She did not know about the letter that sat beside the carriage driver addressed to The Queen.
--------------------
A.N.: oop 🙈 I hope some of y'all are getting these references to Queen Charlotte lmao
White Knight Benedict ate
Summary for those that did not read the smut: Benedict's a fucking tease but he goes down on her (tea). He calls her a princess but she says that she's "Just Y/N." She says she "wants it to be like this always," and Benedict promises that it will be. They fall asleep beside one another.
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moonystoes · 2 months
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Safe Dance - Elisa De Almeida x international!reader
summary: this pretty much explains it all lol.
Warning: Sexual assault, old man being a creep, mentions of alcohol, not well written, slowww burn like it's pissing me off too im sorry, elisa being our protective queen.
a/n: i'm bringing this up again, i just started writing, especially fics as long as this (the last one -and the first- had only 500 words). So feedback and help is needed!! also sorry i got a little bored and wrote too many useless things lol.
w/c: 5.218k
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You knew you needed to celebrate your high GPA after graduating from your bachelor degree at some point. But you've been putting it off, feeling like it's too much effort and energy for your introverted self. It's no secret French people are distant towards foreigners, it's been something known worldwide (which is ironic since a big part of their population are people of color coming from different countries from Africa and Asia). But you ignored all the toxic things you heard about France when you unexpectedly got a scholarship into the University of Paris.
Now, four years later, you are still alone. You have made friends in some projects, but right when the project is over, your friendship ends as well. Your mom has messaged you a long paragraph on how proud she is of you, but the loneliness is still wearing you down. You knew you probably looked silly walking down the street, wearing a short V-neck dress with high heels obviously to party, but there is a permanent frown on your face.
When you looked up from your phone, you didn't even need to look for the club. You can feel the music vibrate the ground and there is a huge line at the entrance. You turned off your phone and waited in line, wanting to just drink all day and celebrate by then. You checked on your friend (an international student like you) who promised that she'll be here, but your message was left on delivered for 2 hours. 
After 15 minutes of scrolling through your Instagram and 3 missed calls to Liz, it was your turn to show the security your ID. His dark eye bags showed you that he was too exhausted to care, so he took less than a second to glance at your card before returning it to you, and opening the door for you in a frustrated way.
You walked in awkwardly, couples grinding and dancing around you, you felt disgusted - and secretly jealous. The club was dark and had red LED lights, it was filled with large posters of icons and models from the 70s, and of course the playboy magazines of women wearing lingerie. It looked good enough for you to settle down on the bar stool and immediately order a light drink. 
While you were sitting there to decide whether you should dance or wait for Liz (you were honestly frustrated at her for ditching you with no explanation), the bartender passed a large drink towards you. You glanced at him with a confused look, “oh sorry, I didn't order this.”
“Yeah I know, it's the man there.” He pointed to the table on your left, to an older man with thin white hair. Your jaw dropped when you looked at him, realizing that he caught you staring.
“Umm… that old man?” You tried your hardest to whisper over the thudding music, trying not to let the creep that is sitting just 2 meters away from you hear what you said. The bartender nodded and walked away to the other side of the bar, making you sigh in annoyance that he didn't bother to even help you out. You slowly pushed the light pink drink away from you, it smelled strong which showed his true intentions, getting you drunk.
You pulled out your phone and texted Liz a quick message, “Liz a man is being weird where are you ☹️☹️?” You scrolled through your gallery to pretend you are doing something and distract yourself from the man on your left, until you are tapped on the shoulder. You froze, quickly turning off your phone as you took a deep breath, pretending that you didn't feel it.
“May I know why you didn't accept the drink, it was really expensive.” you flinched when you felt his breath hit your neck, no way this is happening today. Where the fuck is Liz? You turned around slowly, trying to act calm and collected, “sorry, I didn't want to drink today, I'm just here for someone.”
“I don't see anyone here,” he mockingly glanced around the bar to see the ‘person’ you were waiting for. “I saw you drink just a few minutes ago.”
You closed your eyes for a second and took a deep breath. You glanced at his striking blue eyes and felt your hands starting to shake, you looked away back to the drink he ordered for you and grasped it, taking a small sip just to taste what it is. You knew you were fucked, Liz isn't here and she's probably not going to come, the bartender couldn't give a shit, and this man won't leave you alone. Why was he at a bar on a Wednesday night? Doesn't he have some office job to do tomorrow or is he too old that he's retired now.
The drink tasted sour and tangy, but had a strawberry flavor. The burning of your throat made you cough and your eyes shutting close, it was definitely alcoholic, very alcoholic. You rested the drink on the table and faked-smiled and awkwardly nodded, but your smile disappeared when his hand clutched your arm and pulled you forward, “why don't you dance with me, huh? Wearing this dress for nothing must be a shame.” 
You panicked and took a quick scan of your surroundings to see who could help. On the bar table to your left, there were other older men, possibly friends of the weirdo that's now bruising your arm. On the large leather sofas that were placed on the other corner, there was a couple?...a throple? A man was sitting comfortably on it as he crossed his legs on the mini table in front of him, two girls were sprawled over him, one playing with his hair and the other playing with his shirt while she chugs from a beer can…yeah they will be too busy to help.
You took a quick turn to the VIP entrance, seeing a short girl with a Gucci bag waiting to be let in… rich spoiled people are too busy to look around. You swore you never cared about religion until then, when the man tugged you to his chest, your eyes slowly closing as you were holding your tears praying to God to let you out of this misery.
You felt his hands being placed on your hips, as he forcefully tugged your back towards his groin. He pushed you to the crowded area so people can't see your discomfort in your face. 
But before he does more than this, a large hand tugged you away from the man, making the man behind you exhale loudly. “Anna! I'm sorry for making you wait, hey let's go…umm do you know him?” you've never heard such a soft yet deep voice like this. Before you even had the chance to look at who grabbed you, her right arm tugged you into her chest, trying to hide you from the stranger. “No, I don't.” You whispered, afraid of making the situation even bigger.
“Seriously? you were waiting for this…” His angry voice and arm pointing at the both of you made you anxiously stare at him. He looked at the woman hugging you up and down with disgust before muttering a ‘nevermind’ and stomping off.
You shakingly held tightly into her, staring at the spot the man was at. “Are you okay?” She let out a soft whisper from above your head. You were shaken at the whole encounter, blocking off what she said until you felt soft taps on your shoulder, making you look up at her.
This was the first opportunity you had to actually see who saved you from this, and she was gorgeous. She had sunglasses placed on the collar of her dress shirt with two of the buttons opened. Why was she even wearing a dress shirt at a club? When you looked up to her face (because she's 5 '9 and the first thing you saw was her tan skin), her hair was short, swooped to the side. Her cheekbones were sharp and her eyes were furrowed worriedly. You quickly separated from her and took two steps away.
“Hey, it's okay.” She took a step forward, opening her hands around her face to show you she doesn't want to hurt you, “are you waiting for someone?”
You looked away from her eyes, the smell of alcohol and sweat is making it difficult for you to think straight -literally. You looked at your phone, finding a new notification, “oh thank God she responded!” You relaxed, until you pressed on it.
“Hey baby!! It's your favorite uncle 😉, just saw your post about graduating. Congratulations! I miss you so much. Maybe one day we can all reunite when you graduate your masters 💪keep working hard!”
You inhaled deeply, turning off your phone and throwing it in your mini purse. You looked at the woman, she looked at you with raised brows waiting for an explanation for your reaction. You rested your hand on your forehead and frustratedly groaned out, “no she fucking ignored my messages.”
Her face turned sour as she looked behind you, probably to the place where the old men were sitting, giving you the chance to look at her face once again. You blushed at her clenched sharp jaw, slight pink cheeks, and the soft lips. When you looked back at her eyes, she was already looking at you.
You internally wanted to kill yourself for looking at her lips, because she definitely caught that. You looked away to her arms, doing everything in your power to not look at her face again. But then you realized glancing at her arms will make the situation even worse. Her arms were athletic and the sleeves were tight around her biceps. How is she this hot?
“You can stay with me, my friends are here.” She softly grasped your hand, pulling you away from the crowded dance floor. “It's fine, I'll just go home.”
“No, come on! It's a secluded area, no one will bother us.” She encouraged you, her hand still in yours. You looked down at your heels, you felt like shit. This whole time at the bar was for you and Liz to celebrate your day and you end up being a charity case for a hot woman. You don't even know why you chose the club, you hated partying anyways. You bit into your lip, one single line going through your head:
I deserve to celebrate my achievements no matter with who. I'm the one who worked hard for this, I need this.
“Okay just… Please don't do this because you feel bad for what happened.” her eyes softened, intertwining your fingers with hers and whispering a soft ‘never’. You felt embarrassed as she was dragging you around the bar to the place her friends are staying at, you didn't want to see anyone’s face so you just looked down at your intertwined hands and hoped you won't collide with anyone. Your hand looked small compared to her large ones as she held into you, feeling her rough skin tightly around yours.
When you realized she stopped, you looked up to where she took you. “Oh no… I'm not going there,” You frowned at her, “VIP? I heard it's expensive here.” You felt guilty that she might spend money on a spot for you, but you were curious on how she makes enough money to be here.
“Don't worry, my work has paid for the night here, I didn’t spend a euro on me or anyone.” She smiled at you, finding it cute how you were worried about her money. She let go of your hand and opened the door slowly, signaling her hand to follow her.
You stood still for a few seconds, feeling exhausted and tired. And unfortunately, you felt gross. You looked down at your dress, remembering what the old man said. It was your favorite, it may not look fancy but you've loved it and waited for a moment to wear it, now you can't even glance at it without feeling down. You glanced at the woman, she had already taken a few steps until she realized you weren't following her, “Do you want to go home? I can order you an Uber?”
This was your chance to actually get to know someone, you've been alone all this time in Paris and Liz was an American student. The woman in front of you seemed like the first French woman that actually tried to befriend you, and she's attractive. Her face softened as she took a few steps towards you again, understanding your silence. “My name is Elisa, what's yours?”
“Y/n.” You didn't know what to do after this so you reached out your hand to handshake her, internally cringing from how awkward you are…no wonder why your love life is as low as your mood today. She giggled and grasped your hand, shaking it aggressively. You looked at her with a confused face and she just winked quickly, “so… y/n why are you here at the club on a Wednesday night?”
“I just graduated so I wanted to celebrate.” You were staring at your held hands, feeling awkward when looking at anyone's eyes, especially élisa's. But when you felt her hand immediately let go of yours and wipe it off with her dress pants, you looked at her face slightly hurt. Her eyes are slightly widened, which made you realize why she let go of your hand, “bachelor degree in physical therapy.”
“Ohh! That's so nice. You know at my job we need a lot of physiotherapists, I like them.” Her body physically relaxed, making you laugh at her panic. The poor woman thought you were some high school student, but you didn't blame her, you never made it clear when you spoke about it.
“Cool… what do you work as?” You asked, a smile appearing in your face. You didn't realize that by a small comment, Elise made your feelings better just as she planned. She let out an open smile when she noticed yours, feeling proud of herself for making you feel better.
“Guess.” 
Your smile wiped off your face, “no please I don't like doing this game just say it.”
She laughed, “I'll give you a hint, I wear number 5.”
It took a moment for you to answer because you froze when you heard her laugh, making a stupid grin plaster into your face, “...football?” You dragged the word as you questioned, worried it might be wrong. She nodded with a proud smile.
“Wow, that's so cool I do watch football!... not the women, I don't know where to watch…sorry.”
She laughed, stepping closer and resting her left arm around your shoulder, encouraging you to walk through the dark maroon hallway with her. “It's okay, we're used to it.”
When you looked up from this angle, your attraction worsened. Her side profile was perfect. It took a moment for you to recover from it, “ehm…some girls in my class wanted to be football physios so they could work with Szoboszlai.” You muttered, obviously not knowing what to say. You didn't know if you should wrap your right hand around her waist or just keep it awkwardly limping between the both of you.
She glanced at you and laughed, “and you? Is that what you wanted?”. You looked away, deciding to focus on the dark walnut wood corridor in front of you instead of her eyes. “I don't really like men.”
“Ha! Me too.” Her left arm tapped your shoulder to the beat of the music. Elisa was glad that you weren't into men; she felt like it's finally her time where she can get attention from a woman that isn't a fangirl. She pulled you inside a room, filled with people singing and jumping around.
You felt sick all over again, not knowing Elisa had this many friends. You remembered her speaking about her work paying for this, are all of these people her teammates? The room was built almost like a sunken living room, the leather couches were placed into the ground around the walls with stairs in the side, and two small tables placed in two opposite corners that were filled with drinks and purses. Elisa felt your body turn rigid, she leaned in close to your ear and whispered gently, “They're all nice, I promise.” You turned to look at her, you didn't understand why but you felt at ease around her, maybe because of what she did earlier, but you took a deep breath and calmed down.
She pointed at an empty seat next to a blonde woman, “hey Jackie, this is y/n, she's a physiotherapy graduate.” Jackie turned to look at you and elisa, she smiled brightly and raised her hand to signal you to sit with her. You let out a tight-lipped smile and approached the table to sit. You noticed Jackie looking at your attire and glancing at Elisa with a confused look, but before she said a thing, Elisa interrupted her by saying she needed to go to the bathroom.
Well shit, now you have to do this alone. You stared at Elisa as she was walking out, secretly checking her out and also praying that she’ll come back soon. “Umm… do you work here?”
You turned to look at Jackie, “oh, no. I'm just here to party.”
“Ohh…I thought you were one of the dancers offered here.” She looked at her whiskey and took a sip, clearly not seeing the shock in your face.
You froze as you gave her a confused glance, “oh. You thought I was a stripper?” You glanced down at your dress… It's a short dress, yes, but a dancer? You had no disrespect for them, just felt a little confused. Does Elisa call dancers for a lap dance? Is this where she went to?
“Oh not your dress! It's just that Elisa never spoke about bringing someone here so I assumed. Also, you're really pretty.” She gave you a wink with her compliment.
You gave her a soft smile with a shy ‘thanks’. “Elisa isn't really into those things, that’s why I was kind of confused.” She nudged your arm when you glanced at the exit again, realizing that you were waiting for Elisa. After hearing what Jackie said, you relaxed into your seat and looked at your surroundings.
Everyone seemed drunk except one, her thick black hair was tied in a high ponytail, too engrossed with her phone to really notice anyone. The other players were dancing, some were singing loudly to some song by Aya, an icon in french music from what you noticed in the past four years living here. “May I ask how you know elisa?” Jackie asked.
“Oh we just met here so…” you shrugged, you didn't feel like telling anyone what actually happened. Jackie nodded, taking her purse into her lap and pulling things out, trying to find something in it. After a while of scrolling on tiktok and looking at the girls partying, Elisa came back in, immediately settling down next to you. You looked at her with a smile, glad that she's back, but your smile was wiped off when you saw her frustrated and sweaty state. When she noticed the worry in your eyes she leaned in closer to you, “Do you like this club?”
You were caught off guard from this question and nodded slowly, “good because I want you to come back here,” You were confused, obviously you'll never come here. It doesn't matter how nice and fancy this place is, after that weirdo, you'll never step foot here. “I kicked him out, he's banned from coming here again.”
“Wa- wait what?” You gasped, looking at the door she came back from, expecting to see him standing there. But he wasn't, and even from the small glass window on the door, you can see that his spot is now empty, as well as his friends’.
“I want you to feel safe celebrating your achievements, I know today has probably been shit.” You bit your lip, turning to look at Jackie playing with her now found camera. You couldn't look at Elisa's eyes or else you would cry. You felt her hand softly caress your shoulder, bringing your body closer to hers. “Thank you, I mean… I don't even know what else to say.”
She gave you a gentle smile and turned to look at her teammates singing karaoke now. “No problem, now do you want to sing and dance with them? Or just sit here?”
“I'll just sit here, you can have fun with them.”
She looked back at you, deciding to lean back into the coach and find a comfortable position. “I play for Paris Saint Germain.”
“What! No way…I feel like shit for not watching you play.” You gasped, psg is the biggest team in France. And that's probably because they are loaded with money and can afford the top players, but you wondered how powerful the women's team is.
She laughed, quickly shaking her head, “don't feel that way! I just wanted to tell you. We just got qualified for the quarterfinals of the champions league that's why they're all drunk and shit.” She tilted her head towards a player dancing on the table. You bit your lip trying not to laugh at the poor woman, but when you heard Elisa's cackle, you let out a little laugh.
“Quarterfinals to the champions league… that's great! That's so cool, honestly, you should go and dance with them!” You pushed her towards the women, but she didn't even budge. She winked at you when she saw you try to move her and held your arm down, “Are you actually trying to push me or are you playing around?”
You knew she was joking, she can tell your struggling face when you tried to push her. You glanced at the way she grabbed your forearm, feeling the blush coming around your cheeks. Her muscles tensed beneath her fitted black shirt, elisa has been trying to subtly send you hints without panicking too much. But she knew she needed to do something even more, so she let her hand slowly go from your forearm to your hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. A shy smile broke out in both of your faces, looking up to see her already smiling at you. “Okay…maybe I do want to dance a little.”
You bite your lip and give her a soft nod, indicating that you wanted to dance with her. She grinned brightly and stood up from the couch, delicately pulling you with her. You felt content for the first time, you're finally going to dance and party like how you wanted before you came here in the first place. Elisa pulled you into her body, looking at your eyes to see if you're okay with her wrapping her arms around your waist. You felt speechless so you just nodded and dragged your hands from her forearms all the way to her shoulders, blushing at the feeling of her rough muscles.
Because you were busy trying to mask your flustered state, you didn't notice the panic Elisa was in. Her tightly wrapped hands were shaking and it seemed like she couldn't even glance at your face for three seconds without finding something else to look at. The girls had stopped singing karaoke now, the speaker playing some french afrobeats. “I forgot to tell you, I'm shit at dancing. I was planning on getting too drunk to care.” You admitted with a laugh, elisa tightened her hands around your waist, making your chest flush with hers. “Oh wait until you see me dance.” 
“You do realize this song isn’t for slow dancing?” You loved the feeling of her body against yours, but the idea of slow dancing to afrobeats in front of people is confusing you. “Shhh don’t ruin the moment now.” she joked, turning her head around the room, she looked back at you and said, “They’re all too drunk to care.”
You looked around the room, and fortunately she was right. The girls were all dancing, separated into multiple groups and only focusing on them. Even the sober one had stood up and was dancing with the rest. You rested your head on her shoulder, feeling like it doesn’t matter at this point what happens between you. Elisa will probably forget about you, and date an instagram model like every football player does -well… that’s what the male players do at least.
“You tired?” her velvety voice soothed you as she leaned her head on yours. You closed your eyes and hummed in response, not feeling like moving your body. You tried to excuse the exhaustion as the sickness from the old man, but throughout the semester, you have been sleeping 4 hours and only working and studying. And today has been the day you can finally rest.
Elisa moved her hands from your waist to wrap them around your shoulders instead. As much as she was worried about the possible rejection from you, she felt great about you being okay with her physical touches and wanted to enjoy the chance. She can feel your beating heart from the thin dress you’re wearing against her sternum. Elisa’s long fingers were playing with the hem of the dress from your neck, her body slowly rocking as if she’s putting a baby to sleep.
“Thank you,” You whispered, opening your eyes just to see her jaw. “For today. I may not seem happy, but I am really grateful for this, I’m happy.”
“Do you want to go home?”
You stayed silent for a few seconds, before letting out a short breathy laugh, “Is it obvious I don’t like to party?” You didn’t want to offend her, especially after what she did.
“I can call an uber for you, or I can drive you home if you don’t feel safe.” You almost wanted to cry at how thoughtful she is, but you knew you needed some alone time after all of this. Also, the thought of parting ways with Elisa and her completely forgetting about you is eating you alive.
“Thank you, but I’ll feel very guilty if I take you away from the party you should be celebrating.” You let go of the tight embrace you were in, looking at her eyes to let her know how much you meant it. She sighed and nodded with a small hidden frown in her face. Elisa felt like a child attached to a toy, she was worried to let you go and never find you again. Now that she kicked the assaulters out, she hoped you’d come to the club more often.
“Okay, I’ll walk you out.” She held your hand and walked you out of the VIP entrance. The smell of sweat and alcohol hit you in the face, the club is even busier now since it was around 10 at night. Elisa pulled you to her body, putting her arm around your shoulder protectively in case someone does a thing to you. Once you reached the closest exit, she pushed the heavy door and let you go out.
“Ehm… Can I have your phone number?” Elisa suddenly blurted, she wasn’t ready to say goodbye, so she said the lamest thing she thought, “Just to make sure you went home safe…you never know what can happen.”
When Elisa asked that question, your heart started beating faster, your worry about losing her is now out of your head, feeling glad that she wanted to contact you. But after her explanation, you sighed in disappointment, she’s probably not interested in you, she wants to know if you went home safe only.
“Yeah, okay.” You opened your hand, waiting for her to hand you her phone. She pulled out her phone from her front pocket, and passed it to you quickly. Her palms were sweaty from anxiousness, and she hoped her sweat wasn’t all over the phone. She knew she fucked up, she could’ve told you the truth but instead she acted like some sick teenager, and it made her even more annoyed with herself when she saw the excitement in your face disappear like fog. She wanted you to know she’s interested in you. You typed your phone number quickly, before giving it back to her with a tight smile.
“Bye-Bye,” You stepped back, still facing her. “Again, thank you for today.” You gave her a small wave, and then turned and walked your way back home. She was invading your thoughts, her face, her smile, her deep yet delicate voice, her body, and the fact that she’s a professional player that can get anyone she wants.
Once you reached home, you looked at your phone notifications, there were none. 0 from Liz, and 0 from Elisa. You cussed yourself, why would she even bother to text you? She is the hottest woman you’ve ever seen, you probably look like charity work next to her exes. You boiled water for instant noodles, feeling too low to even worry about making dinner. After eating the soggy cheap noodles, you turned on the bathtub faucet and added some oils to calm you down and distract you from Elisa. You contemplated on searching up her name and see what google says about her, but you forced yourself to not even look up a picture of her. She clearly doesn’t care about you, why would you care about her?
After the 30 minute depressing bath, you plopped into the bed, not bothering to put the blanket over you. You suddenly heard a notification ding from your phone. Closing your eyes tightly, you swore that if it's Liz you'll run to her house barefoot to yell at her. When you heard another ding, you opened your eyes slowly and reached out for your bedside table.
[Unknown number]
I'm sorry
I was acting like a kid around u I wanted to ask you out but I got too shy
Can I take you to dinner one day?
You bit into your lip harshly, trying so hard to suppress your blush. You thought about it for a second, you weren't mad because she couldn't ask you out in front of you. You couldn't do it either, and you were also flattered to the thought of her being too shy in front of you. It felt as though she was the confident one there. It didn't matter anyways, what mattered is that you wanted to be hers. And if this date is the first step, you'll take it.
[You]
Okay
Only if I can go and watch you play on the quarterfinals
[Elisa ⚽️]
Really??
YES OF COURSE
Only with my jersey 😉
You turned off your phone and banged your head into the pillow, grabbing your phone again to send her a quick message.
[You]
Of course
I'm going to sleep rn
Good night 💞
[Elisa ⚽️]
Good night 😴
You turned off your phone and closed your eyes, immediately sleeping from the exhaustion of the day.
[Elisa⚽️]
The dress looked perfect on you.
152 notes · View notes
devilishchaos · 10 months
Text
The one where your water breaks | Rúben Dias imagine
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Rating / genre: pure fluff
Pairings: Reader x Rúben Dias
Summary: The moment your water breaks.
Warnings: can't think of any beside use of pet names "baby girl", "babe", "baby"
Word Count: 628 words
This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
“Babe.” Nothing.
“Baabe.” you called louder, but again, nothing.
Then you pulled out the one you knew for sure was going to work.
“Baaabe help.”
“What happened? Are you okay? Is it time?” Your husband rushes into the bedroom only in a towel wrapped around his waist. Hair wet. So hot. What a view. You allow yourself to gawk at him for a couple of seconds, then you remember why you called him.
“No. I can’t get up. Help, please.” Rúben chuckles softly at you, figure buried underneath the covers of the king sized bed, hands reaching our for him to grab and help you up.
“Here, I got you. On three. 1-2..” He leans over, links his forearms under your armpits then pulls you up.
“-3. God. When is this baby going to come out?” You whine.
“You’re adorable pregnant. The waddle is iconic.” He states, giving your temple a kiss before he let’s go of your hands once he's sure you regained your balance.
And he’s being honest. He’s been enjoying watching you walking around with a huge belly and a small pout. It’s been the best when the days were easy on you. No pain, no nausea..On days when it was too much, he internally conversed with the little one, trying to convince her to come out sooner. That’s when he stops enjoying it, when you’re struggling.
“This..” You point to your swollen tummy. "..is your fault.”
“Well it took two, didn’t it?” He smiles as he speaks knowingly. You know he’s joking. It’s annoying but true.
“It’s been 41 weeks tho. I’m about to request an extra fee.” Your hand caresses the tiny bump within your bump where he has his foot rested now. It’s never not weird. But cute nonetheless.
“Baby girl, the accommodation was for 39 weeks. Start packing up already. Rent is due.” You said while looking down at your bump.
Your husband also puts his hand on top of yours to join the conversation. “Does she have a penthouse or what in there? Sure seems very comfy.” Your heart swells whenever you three have a moment like this. Another reason why you want her here with you two. You get to feel her every second of the day but you want Rúben to form the same bond you feel like you have with her. For him to hold her..
“She sure will be a spoiled one.”
“Yeah. Daddy will spoil his girl.” You raise a brow. It takes him a second, then he catches it. “-sss. Girls. My girls.”
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” You smirk, then go on to ask “Daddy, why don’t you spoil the one who’s actually physically here by giving her a backrub?"
“Let me change into something first.” He looks down to remind you he’s naked under that towel. You feel your cheeks get hot at the thought, as if you’ve never seen what’s underneath. The hormones. God, it’s been too long.
“Make it quick.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Same goes for you little one. We can’t wait to meet you. And I can’t wait for these back and pelvic pains to go away. No offense.” You said while continuing to rub on your belly.
Something’s wrong.
“Is she offended?” You dumbly think to yourself.
What the..?
“Babe!” You gasp. Wait. Oh. Is this..?
“Coming. Can’t find my hoodie. Be there in a second. Oh there it is!”
“Rúben!" You call for him louder this time despite the nerves kicking in.
“Babe, I said I’ll rub your back. I ain't going nowhere. Relax."
“Baby, please, come here right now!” you squealed.
“I’m here. What’s-”
“I-I think my water just broke.” You say with wide eyes as you feel liquid slide down your legs. Oh boy, It’s happening.
489 notes · View notes
kumquats-are-gay · 4 months
Note
sparing with Johnny, and you pin him down only to find that he's rock hard, maybe some teasing/sex? idk idk
(TF YOU MEAN “idk”?? THIS PROMPT IS HEAT AND I’M ‘BOUTTA COOK!! 🔥💯😤)
Johnny Cage x gn!reader (SFW/NSFM)
NOTE: This will be a two-parter because I just couldn't wait to post what I had already, lmao. This first part only has sexual themes and foreplay, while the second part will have actual smut (also, while this first part is totally GN, the second part will be mentioning afab anatomy, but I will still be using GN pronouns). I'm sorry this took so long to get to; I've been working almost every day for the past two weeks and ya girl is tired, lol. Was super excited to write for this though! :D
ALSO I HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE HOW ACTUAL FIGHTING WORKS I JUST MADE SHIT UP LMAO PLS DON'T COME AT ME
Pasted straight from Google Docs and NOT proofread, so please excuse any grammatical/continuity errors/syntax and formatting. I am also still VERY much an amateur writer so pls go easy on me <3
AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51869623
Come On With a Come-on
         For a ‘professional’, Johnny Cage is about the least professional person you’ve ever met. Propriety must be a foreign concept to him with how frequently he flirts with you, especially on set—you know, in front of all of your colleagues and crew? The man was shameless in his relentless pursual of you, like a goddamn dog with a bone. And worst of all? You liked it, and this fact frustrated you to no end. 
         How could you possibly be attracted to someone who is so insufferably arrogant, loud-mouthed, and impossibly far up his own ass? An ass that, admittedly, you find yourself staring at whenever you think he isn’t looking. But, because you’re an actual professional, you’ve rebuffed his every attempt to seduce you thus far. Plus, you had a reputation to keep and dignity to hold onto; you weren’t sullying either when the likely outcome would involve your face and name on countless tabloids. 
         Without warning, his stupid, smug, and incredibly handsome smile invades your mind, and you suddenly find yourself wanting nothing more than to punch it off of his unfairly chiseled jaw.
         …or maybe kiss it off.
         “Grah!” you abruptly shout while burying your hands in your hair, momentarily tugging at the roots in annoyance. God, you had a problem. 
         Bzzt.
         “Huh?” You look down at your hip where your phone had just buzzed in your pocket. You pull it out and flick your finger across the screen to unlock it, then tap on the messaging icon.
         Johnny Cage: Hey, wanna spar later? 👊👊
         You raised a brow. You and Johnny worked in the same sphere for a reason. Action films were your guys’ bread and butter since the both of you knew how to fight as well as do your own stunts. 
         You and Johnny hung out casually here and there, but the two of you had never sparred before. You sensed an opportunity in his proposal, though: an effective way to get your frustration out on the source of said frustration. Shrugging, you figure, ‘why not?’
         You: Yeah, I’m down. But I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into b/c I won’t be holding back!
         Johnny: Woah, don’t go threatening me with a good time ;) 
         Your stomach twirled in unbidden delight at the cheeky response, and you internally chastised yourself for being so easily affected by this man. You and Johnny sorted out the details of your meetup—his place, late afternoon—and returned your phone to your pocket. You would just have to kill some time until then.
~~~
         “Of course you would have your own gym, and of course it’s fuckin’ huge,” you joked with a bit of sarcasm, yet enough lightheartedness as to not offend. Though, you doubt Johnny could be so easily offended; he’s got way too much self-confidence (for better or for worse) to be put down that easily.
         “Oh, honey, you haven’t seen ‘huge’ yet,” he boasted with a smirk. The wink that followed did nothing to abate the heat that was slowly taking over your body, but you did your best not to let the effects show. Since when were easy, immature innuendos such a turn on for you? You just closed your eyes and shook your head.
         “Alright, I am definitely knocking you on your ass for that one.”
         “Hah, see if you can, sweetheart!”
         The two of you stood in your  respective corners and took your stances. One quick little countdown later, and the game was on. 
        You knew Johnny was a very good fighter being a martial arts expert and all, but you didn’t realize he was that good. In all honesty, you figured he was more bark than bite, and that you’d have no real problem going toe-to-toe with him. Unfortunately, it seems like you may have underestimated him. It turns out that Johnny Cage was one of the rare few you had met who could back up their arrogance. Bully for you.
        Furthermore, this shithead was fighting dirty! Well, okay—technically he wasn’t fighting dirty. He was just talking after all, and there’s nothing wrong or “illegal” with that. But it was a dirty tactic regardless, and it only infuriated you further with how helpless you were to try and block him out.
        You pivot sharply on one foot and  use the momentum to lift and swing the other around, aiming the kick at his head. You expect him to duck under such a high-reaching maneuver—maybe he’d follow up with a low sweep with your single foot planted on the ground—so you prepare yourself to counter this. See, before you went into acting, fighting was your primary activity; you won many tournaments and managed to make a decent living off of it. One of the main things you were known for were your notoriously powerful kicks; few would risk trying to outright block them rather than moving out of the way.
         You must have forgotten who you were up against; that was the only reasonable explanation for your short-sightedness. You were not distracted by him or anything like that, thank you very much. Johnny-fucking-Cage just lifts an arm and grabs your leg. With one hand. Like it was nothing.
         The impact creates a loud smack! that briefly leaves you dumbfounded; you felt the force of that blow against his palm, and it was enough to leave the skin there tingling unpleasantly. Johnny didn’t look phased in the least bit with a crooked smile dancing across his handsome features, just gripping your ankle. Casually. Like you weren’t currently being held in the near-vertical splits.
         Johnny took this fleeting opportunity to give you a quick once-over, and his smile only grew. “Nice legs,” he quipped, “bet they’d look a lot nicer over my shoulders.” You openly gaped at his brazenness, and he used your shock to his advantage, flipping you in one fell swoop. You grunted when your back hit the mat underneath you, but the heat that overwhelmed your person (caused by your anger and fury, obviously) had you back up in a flash.
         “Best two out of three,” you nearly seethed. Johnny had the audacity to appear as anything but intimidated. In fact, he seemed rather amused.
         “You know, you’re like, really hot when you’re mad.”
         You nearly flung yourself at him in a mindless bout of rage, but caught yourself only a split moment before you could make such a devastating mistake. A delightful idea quickly sprang to mind—two could play at this game. 
         You kept up the facade of indignation and outrage in order to trick Johnny into thinking that you actually were going to make that blind charge at him. You stepped off of your dominant foot, using the momentum to make a lunge for him. He braced himself to counter your head-on attack, but you feigned right at the last possible second, swiftly gripped his shoulder with your left hand, and brought your right leg in against the back of his knee to buckle it. Johnny was quick to recover, though, keeping enough of his balance to twist and grapple with you as his leg nearly gave out. 
         Ah, so it was time for plan B.
         Before he could finish off the move, you brought your face right up to his, making sure that the two of you were making eye contact, and looked at him with sensual purpose. It was almost enough to disarm him, so to ensure you had the upper hand, you threw him another curveball with a breathy, “I wonder if you fuck as good as you fight.” 
         That did the trick. Johnny’s mind was sent reeling with your seemingly out-of-pocket comment, and you jumped at the chance to knock him flat on his ass. Johnny got the wind knocked from him as he landed with a resounding thump. Not wasting a minute, you straddled yourself across his hips and held his wrists against the floor mat. While Johnny had more raw strength than you, you hoped that the KO would leave him dizzy enough to keep him subdued.
         “Ha! Gotcha!” you barked out in triumph. Johnny just blinked up at you in a daze as his response. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to handle the taste of your own medi-” you had cut yourself off when you felt something stiff beneath your pelvis. ‘What…? Wait, is he…’
         “Are you hard right now?!” you squawked incredulously. Johnny just shrugged his shoulders and gave you an audacious smirk, as if to say, ‘Uh, yeah I guess so. What about it?’ You were flabbergasted. “I can not believe you right now!” You released his wrists and made to get up, but he grabbed your hips before you could get away. Damn it, his body was so warm, and…holy shit he felt big.
         “Woah now, hang on just a tick,” he spoke like he was trying to soothe a startled horse. This fucking asshole! Why, just why did you have to fall for him? “It is very difficult not to pop a boner when I’m getting up close and personal to the most gorgeous person I know,” he spoke with an immense amount of charm and a surprising measure of sincerity. Your eyes widened comically before you squinted at him with a healthy amount of suspicion. 
         “Oh, really now? And I don’t suppose you’ve used that line with every other person you’ve taken to bed, hm?”
         Johnny just sighed like he was the exasperated one here. “Darling, I’ve been laying it on thick for half a year now. There’s no way I’d still be after you just to get into your pants.” He looked at you with this sort of ‘duh’ expression on his face, like he couldn’t possibly understand your confusion. “I mean, don’t get me wrong: you’ve got just the kind of body that I love,” he added, and you nearly clocked him then and there, but you relaxed again as he spoke further, “but I’ve come to really like spending time with you. There’s never a day that I don’t look forward to working with you on set, you know.” And, just like that, you felt like the stupidest person on the planet for denying yourself something that you evidently could have had for a long time now. 
         You hung your head low and shook it from side to side in disappointment of yourself. You fool. You buffoon. You absolute imbecile. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.” Johnny took this the wrong way, looking offended, and opened his mouth to say something. However, you were quick to shut him up with a short yet firm kiss of which he wasted no time in returning. He ground his hips against yours in short, desperate thrusts like there would never be another chance to do so, and you eagerly mirrored his movements like they might be your last. Without warning, he rolled the two of you over to flip your positions. Sprawled out beneath him with your hands held beneath his own, Johnny thought you looked like a dream.
         “By the way, I think you’ll find that not only do I fuck as good as I fight, but I fuck like I fight, too—hard n’ fast,” he intoned in a voice nearly an octave deeper. 
         You squirmed in anticipation at his words, and retorted with equal huskiness, “let’s see it then.”
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mysweetlixe · 2 months
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✰ Whiskey and Wishes ✰
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Paring: |Hyunjin x Reader|
Genre: Angst and Rockstar au
Warning: Alcoholism and Emotional struggles
Summary: Hyunjin,struggling with alcoholism, faces a nightly drinking routine. One evening, he impulsively contacts his ex-girlfriend Y/N
Words: 3.2k
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In the dimly lit room, the rhythmic pulse of a melancholic melody resonated, echoing through the empty whiskey bottles that adorned the space.Hyunjin sat hunched over a worn-out acoustic guitar, his fingers deftly strumming the strings as he poured his heart out through the music. The room was cloaked in a haze of cigarette smoke, the scent clinging to every surface like a reminder of his vice.
The room, once a sanctuary of creativity and passion, now bore the weight of Hyunjin's turbulent existence. The walls, once adorned with posters of music icons that had inspired him, were now obscured by shadows and neglect. The floor, covered in discarded crumpled sheets of lyrics and shattered fragments of broken glass, mirrored the shattered fragments of his own soul.
Each night was a battle against the demons within him, a fight he waged with the help of his loyal companions - the whiskey bottle and the willing strangers who found solace in his bed.
They offered temporary respite from the pain that gnawed at him, a fleeting escape from the relentless demands of his fame. But each morning, as the sun broke through the cracks in his blackout curtains, reality crashed down upon him like a tidal wave.
Tonight was no different. As he strummed his guitar with an almost desperate fervor, his voice raw and hoarse from years of abuse, Hyunjin's eyes caught a glimpse of his reflection in the cracked mirror across the room.
The image that stared back at him was a mere shell of the talented artist he once knew himself to be – haunted eyes filled with regret and self-inflicted scars etched upon his heart.
As he reached for another bottle of whiskey, his trembling fingers betrayed his internal struggle by the simple act of gripping the neck. A sigh escaped his lips, a heavy exhale that carried the weight of a thousand failed promises and shattered dreams.
The amber liquid poured into the glass, its familiar burn offering a twisted comfort. It was a dance he knew all too well, this nightly routine of drowning his sorrows and numbing his pain.
But tonight, something within him shifted. Perhaps it was the haunting melody that reverberated through the room, or the remnants of a memory lingering in his mind. With a sudden surge of impulse, Hyunjin reached for his phone and scrolled through the contacts until his thumb landed on a familiar name – Y/N.
Their breakup had been tumultuous, fueled by constant arguments over his neglect and drinking issues. It was a toxic cycle that had eventually torn them apart, leaving both wounded and scarred. Yet, despite the pain it had caused, Y/N remained a ghost from his past that refused to fade away entirely.
In an unexpected twist of fate, Hyunjin pressed the call button without hesitation. The sound of ringing filled the room, each tone a reminder of what once was and what could have been. And just when he was ready to hang up in defeat, a soft voice answered on the other end.
"Hello?"
The word came out as a whisper, carrying with it a mix of surprise and uncertainty. Hyunjin's heart skipped a beat at the sound of Y/N's voice, a melody that had once brought him immeasurable joy. He took a deep breath, summoning all the courage he had left within him.
"Y/N... it's me," he managed to say, his voice laced with vulnerability. The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his past mistakes and the uncertainty of what would come next.
There was a pregnant pause on the other end of the line, as if Y/N was contemplating her response. Hyunjin's heart pounded in his chest, anticipation mingling with regret. Just when he thought she might hang up or unleash her anger upon him, her voice cut through the silence.
"I never thought I'd hear your voice again," she said softly, her tone filled with a mixture of sadness and longing. "What do you want, Hyunjin?"
His mind raced, searching for the right words to convey the depth of his remorse and desperation. But with each passing second, his resolve weakened, leaving only raw honesty in its wake.
"I miss you," he confessed, his voice barely audible over the distant sounds of traffic outside his window. "I need you."
The line crackled with silence once more before Y/N responded, her voice thick with emotion. "You can't just say those words, Hyunjin, and expect everything to be alright. We've been down this road before, remember?"
Hyunjin felt the weight of her words like a punch to the gut. She was right, of course. They had been down this road before, countless times, only to end up with shattered hearts and aching regret. But tonight, something inside him had shifted. It was as if he had reached a breaking point, no longer able to bear the weight of his own self-destruction.
"I know, Y/N," he replied, his voice filled with a mix of desperation and determination. “ But please can you come over.”
Y/N's breath hitched at his plea, caught between the memories of their tumultuous past and a glimmer of hope for something different. She had witnessed Hyunjin's battle with alcoholism firsthand, had experienced the pain of being neglected and discarded in favor of his vices. It was a wound that ran deep, one that had taken time and self-reflection to heal.
As she listened to the vulnerability in his voice, an internal struggle ensued within her. Should she give him another chance? Was it wise to reopen old wounds and expose herself to potential heartbreak once more? Y/N took a moment to steady her racing thoughts, trying to make sense of the chaotic whirlwind of emotions swirling within her.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she spoke with a mixture of trepidation and determination. "Hyunjin, I... I don't know if visiting you is the right thing to do. We've both been through so much pain, and it's taken me a long time to heal."
But as she uttered those words, a small flicker of hope ignited within her. Maybe, just maybe, this was an opportunity for closure, for both of them to finally confront the demons that had haunted their relationship. With a deep breath, Y/N made up her mind.
"Alright," she said firmly, her voice brimming with newfound resolve. "I'll come over."
Hyunjin's heart skipped a beat at her response. He had expected resistance, hesitation, maybe even rejection. But the fact that Y/N was willing to see him again, to give him a chance to make things right, filled him with a sense of exhilaration and hope he hadn't felt in years.
"Thank you," he murmured, his voice laden with genuine gratitude.
Time seemed to both crawl and fly by as Hyunjin anxiously awaited Y/N's arrival. The walls of his apartment became stifling, suffocating him with the weight of anticipation. He paced back and forth, his mind racing with a flurry of thoughts and emotions.
In an attempt to distract himself, Hyunjin moved towards the grand window overlooking the city. The night sky was adorned with a tapestry of twinkling stars, their ethereal glow casting a gentle light over the world below. Yet, amidst this celestial beauty, he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease.
As he gazed down at the bustling streets, filled with people consumed by their own lives and worries, Hyunjin wondered how he had ended up here - a successful rockstar whose life had become entangled in a web of self-destruction. The adoration of fans, the exhilarating rush of performing on stage had once been his solace. But now, it seemed like a distant memory overshadowed by his battle with addiction.
The doorbell pierced through his thoughts, pulling him back to reality. Hyunjin's heart thudded against his chest as he made his way to the entrance. Opening the door, he found himself face-to-face with Y/N, her eyes reflecting both apprehension and resilience.
Her presence filled the room, an intoxicating combination of familiarity and the unknown. Hyunjin couldn't help but be captivated by her, his eyes drinking in every detail of her appearance. The way her hair cascaded down her shoulders, the soft curve of her lips, the subtle vulnerability that lingered in her gaze.
It was as if time had stood still, and all that mattered in that moment was the connection they shared. Without a word, Y/N stepped into his apartment, the air thick with anticipation.
The apartment floor was littered in empty bottles and discarded clothes, a visual representation of Hyunjin's descent into chaos. Y/N's eyes scanned the disarray, a mix of sadness and concern etching itself onto her face. She had always known about his struggles with alcoholism, but seeing the evidence in front of her was like a punch to the gut.
Taking a deep breath, Y/N forced herself to push past the mess and walked towards the worn-out couch, the centerpiece of Hyunjin's makeshift living room. She gingerly sat down, keeping her gaze fixed on him, searching for any sign of change or redemption.
Hyunjin's heart raced as he watched Y/N settle into his space. The sight of her sitting there, amidst the wreckage he had created, made him acutely aware of how far he had fallen.
He had once been the embodiment of passion and charisma, commanding the stage with his electrifying presence. Now, he was a mere shadow of his former self, drowning in regret and self-pity.
As he approached Y/N, Hyunjin couldn't help but feel a surge of emotions welling up inside him. The weight of their shared history hung heavily in the air, suffocating them both with its unresolved tension. He wanted to reach out, to hold her and tell her how sorry he was for everything he had put her through. But the words caught in his throat, trapped by fear and doubt.
Y/N's eyes bore into his soul, her silence speaking volumes. It was a mixture of disappointment and longing, a silent plea for him to find the strength to change. Hyunjin felt his heart break under her gaze, the realization of how much he had hurt her crashing over him like a tidal wave.
"I'm so sorry," he finally choked out, his voice laced with raw emotion. "I never meant for it to end up like this. I never wanted to hurt you."
Y/N's expression softened, a flicker of hope crossing her features. "Hyunjin," she whispered, her voice tinged with sadness. "I still care about you, but I can't keep living in this cycle of pain and destruction. You need to want to change, to seek help, if there is any chance for us."
Hyunjin's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he took in Y/N's words. He knew deep down that she was right, that his reckless behavior had driven a wedge between them. He had pushed her away, neglected her needs, and drowned his sorrows in alcohol instead of facing his demons head-on.
But now, as he looked at Y/N sitting before him, her presence a beacon of hope in the midst of his darkness, something shifted within him.
The realization that he couldn't bear to lose her completely hit him like a freight train. He had to find the strength within himself to overcome his addiction and salvage what was left of their love.
"I want to change," he said, his voice quivering with sincerity. "I don't want this life anymore. I want you, Y/N."
A mixture of relief and cautious optimism washed over Y/N's face. She reached out and clasped Hyunjin's trembling hand, her touch offering him a lifeline amidst the storm. "I want to believe you, Hyunjin," she whispered, her voice filled with both vulnerability and determination. "But actions speak louder than words."
Hyunjin let his free hand caress her cheek as he leaned in closer, his breath mingling with hers. The familiar scent of her perfume mixed with the distinct aroma of alcohol on his own breath, a reminder of the battle he still had to overcome. His fingers traced the outline of her jaw, a gentle touch laced with both tenderness and remorse.
“let me prove it to you” Hyunjin said kissing Y/N softly, his lips moving against hers with a mixture of desperation and longing. In that moment, time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the intensity of their kiss, a bittersweet reminder of what they had once shared.
As the kiss deepened, Y/N felt a surge of emotions wash over her. The taste of Hyunjin's lips brought back memories of happier times, when love outweighed the pain and darkness. But she couldn't ignore the nagging doubt in the back of her mind, the fear that this could all be a temporary moment of weakness for Hyunjin.
Pulling away slightly, Y/N searched his eyes for any sign of sincerity. "Hyunjin," she whispered, her voice filled with both caution and hope, “We can’t go farther until you get help.” Hyunjin nodded “ I know but just for tonight.” Y/N looked at Hyunjin, her heart torn between the love she still felt for him and the fear of getting hurt once more.
She knew that giving in to his plea could mean falling back into the same destructive pattern they had been trapped in before. But she also couldn't deny the flicker of hope that burned within her, the belief that maybe, just maybe, this time things would be different.
With a heavy sigh, Y/N reluctantly nodded. "Just for tonight," she agreed, her voice tinged with both caution and longing.Hyunjin couldn't help but feel a surge of relief wash over him at Y/N's agreement. He knew that this was his chance, his one shot at redemption. The weight of his past mistakes seemed to momentarily lift from his shoulders as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against Y/N's once more.
Their embrace held a sense of urgency and longing, a silent promise that they would make the most of this night, despite the uncertainty that loomed over their heads. As they stumbled towards the bedroom, emotions ran high, a mixture of passion and trepidation intertwined.
In the dimly lit room, Hyunjin's body trembled with anticipation as he gently guided Y/N to the bed. He wished to savor every moment, every touch, as if it were their last. His hands roamed across her skin, tracing invisible patterns that only they understood.
Y/N felt her heart pound within her chest as she surrendered herself to the intoxicating familiarity of Hyunjin's touch. Her body responded eagerly to his caresses, but her mind still wrestled with doubt. Could this night truly be a turning point? Or would it be yet another painful reminder of the cycle they had been trapped in?
As their bodies moved as one, their connection deepened. Every gasp, every moan echoedmwith the raw intensity of their longing. The air was thick with the scent of desire, mingling with the faintest hint of alcohol on Hyunjin's breath.
Outside, the city bustled with life, oblivious to the storm that raged inside their small room. In this moment, it felt as if they were the only two people in existence, locked in an eternal dance of love and pain. Every touch, every kiss, became a symbol of their shared past, a testament to the strength of their love.
Despite the darkness that lingered between them, they were united in this one perfect moment. As dawn approached, Hyunjin knew that he had to leave their bed and face the world that awaited him. But for now, they could lose themselves in each other, in the pure, unadulterated ecstasy of their reunited bodies.
As night turned to day, Y/N slipped from Hyunjin's arms and disappeared into the bathroom. In the mirror, she saw her reflection, her eyes swollen from tears and her skin glistening with sweat. A mixture of relief and regret washed over her as she wiped away the remnants of her emotions.
Y/N knew that this fragile truce between them was a fragile illusion, a temporary respite from the reality that still awaited them.
She couldn't ignore the fact that Hyunjin's battle with alcoholism had torn them apart in the first place. It had been a constant source of pain and heartache, an endless cycle of broken promises and shattered trust.
As she stood there, contemplating her next move, Y/N's mind flooded with memories of their tumultuous relationship. The late nights spent waiting for Hyunjin to come home, the countless arguments fueled by his neglect and inability to face his demons. The scars they both carried ran deep, etching their mark on their souls.
But there was something different about the way Hyunjin had called her last night. His voice held a hint of desperation, a plea for redemption that echoed through the phone lines. It was as if he had finally hit rock bottom and was willing to do whatever it took to climb back up.
Y/N couldn't deny that part of her still loved him, despite everything they had been through. And maybe, just maybe, this fleeting moment could be the catalyst for change. She yearned for a future where they could rebuild what was broken, where their love could triumph over their past mistakes.
As she stepped out of the bathroom, Y/N found Hyunjin asleep on the bed, his body sprawled across the sheets. The sight of him stirred conflicting emotions within her.
She couldn't help but notice the vulnerability etched on his face, the deep lines that spoke of battles fought and scars earned. In this moment, she saw the man she had fallen in love with all those years ago, before their world fractured into a million jagged pieces.
Y/N approached the bed cautiously, her heart pounding in her chest. She picked up her clothes from the floor, slipped them on quietly, and walked towards the door.
But as she reached for the doorknob, an unexpected surge of empathy washed over Y/N. She couldn't just walk away, not when Hyunjin seemed so fragile and lost in his slumber. With a sigh, she closed the door behind her and silently made her way back to the bed.
Gently, Y/N sat down on the edge, her fingers lightly tracing the contours of Hyunjin's face. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her skin, the rise and fall of his chest as he peacefully slept. It was a bittersweet sight—one that filled her with both longing and trepidation.
Y/N knew that one night together wouldn't solve everything. They had deep-rooted issues to confront, wounds that needed healing. But perhaps this moment, this unexpected twist of fate, was the universe's way of giving them another chance.
Leaning closer, Y/N softly kissed Hyunjin's forehead—a silent promise of forgiveness and hope. Then, with a newfound determination, she quietly rose from the bed once more, leaving a note beside him.
"I'll be back," it read. "Don't let this slip away."
With those words lingering in the air, Y/N gathered her courage and took her first steps towards a future that held uncertain possibilities. She knew it wouldn't be easy, that there would be moments of doubt and pain, but she was willing to fight for their love once more.
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welivetodream · 8 months
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Re-read TSH.....AGAIN
Here are some weird/wtf/sad moments and details I had forgotten:
•Henry wrote a diary entry about murdering a guy 🤨.
•then forgets that Bunny is capable enough to translate the diary entries and find out about the murder.
•Richard has a random thought about r-wording Camilla out of nowhere (*What the fuck Richard vine plays in the background*) 😳.
•The first time Richard sees the twins he thinks they are a couple..........hmm (I was sus about that from the start) 😶.
•Richard had two pages of internal monologue about Henry being gay.
•There was broken stuff in the twins dorm, which was due to Charles trashing the house whenever he is mad at Camilla (FUCK CHARLES).
•Franics was making passes at Richard multiple times.
•Francis and Camilla kissed for some reason, twice.
•Richard only studied greek before to have a language class that's in the afternoon so he could sleep late in the morning (sometimes I feel like he survives only on pure instinct).
•Richard was constantly finassing his employer.
•Henry and Charles were ready to throw hands at Judy (do NOT touch the queen you freaks).
•Henry planned multiple murder options for Bunny (💫dumb ways to die💫).
•Richard had no problem being an accomplice in murder for people he barely knows.
•Bunny drops multiple hints about the murder the others did early on.
•Nobody tried to save Camilla way before if they knew Charles's controlling nature (Henry taking her away was the best thing he ever did).
•Camilla and Henry had secret telephone codes.
•Francis was forced to have a lavender marriage 😭.
•all of this shit went down during one academic year.
•Camilla's whole purpose was to give storylines to Henry, Charles and Richard. She deserved so much better than that. And I don't want her to ever stay around any of the guys of the group (except for Francis).
•Julian was blissfully aware of the obsessive nature of his students, and not only encouraged it but directly lit the fire that caused them to become who they are. (He tried to pull a John Keating from DPS, but he could NEVER be the Dark Academia teacher icon)
BONUS:
Tally of the members of the greek gang who have kissed eachother (NOT COUNTING THE BACCHANAL, where they all fucked.....Idk what happens in a bacchanal, I am too scared to research)
Camilla: 4 (Henry, Francis, Charles, Richard)
Francis: 3 (Charles, Camilla, Richard)
Richard: 2 (Francis, Camilla)
Charles: 2 (Francis, Camilla)
Henry: 1 (Camilla)
Bunny: 0 (RIP, I guess 😅)
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holdupjack · 1 month
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Hello Spider
—————
Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader
AU: Spider-Man Earth-1048
Warning: None
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Third Person P.O.V:
August
Hermione Granger sighed softly as she typed away on her laptop on the seventh floor of The Daily Bugle. She could hear Jameson screaming at one of his interns about how much property damage Spider-Woman caused in her fight with Vulture a few months ago. His podcast seemed to always be one somewhere in the building...
At least he wasn't spiraling about the new Spider-Man that she has been seen swinging with around the city. Hermione thought Jameson was going to send himself into the ER when it was announced that she had a protégé.
Hermione slowly stood up and collected her wallet, eagerly ready to go on her lunch break to Joe's Pizza Cellar across the street. She only took one step when a muffled explosion came from somewhere within the city.
Everyone around her seemed to look up and turn their heads towards the windows, when her eyes flickered towards them as well, a loud yell rang outa car suddenly flew past the windows.
"I HATE CHASE OF GOOSE"
Hermione threw down her wallet and grabbed her notepad, running up to the window as a familiar set of feet ran across the building.
"Aw come on Aleksei! At least look both ways before crossing the street!"
She soon sprang off the wall, while Spider-Man swung behind her. Hermione watched in awe as they chased after Rhino, writing down her quip before tuning towards the elevators.
Her coworkers began to crowd around the windows as they watched the carnage that was being left behind by the Villains run through New York.
Hermione soon found herself outside, running down the street to where a full-blown fight was taking place. Spider-Woman dodged the bigger man's punches as Spider-Man kept any civilians out of harm's way.
"Really Aleksei, I don't know why you try to punch me anymore. You know I can just-"
Spider-Woman was cut off when Rhino grabbed a light pole that had been ripped from the ground previously and whacked her with it.
She went flying through a department store window, to which Spider-Man immediately kept the villain distracted while the other got her bearings.
Hermione quickly slipped into the store, bumping into scared customers and staff as they ran out of the building. Her eyes land on the iconic red, black, and blue costume. A soft groan escaped the superhero as she pulled herself back onto her feet, shaking her head slightly as a way to get rid of the dizziness.
"I really need to quit jinxing myself" she coughed out.
"Spider-Woman?" Hermione calls out as loud yells and quips from the two outside continue. The hero quickly looked up and the eyes on her mask widened, seeming surprised to see her.
"WHERE IS FEMALE SPIDER" Rinho's voice boomed as Spider-Man flew past the shattered window, the loud crunch of metal and a car alarm blaring made it obvious what he had landed against.
"Stay here," Spider-Woman says as she jumps out of the store through the broken window and runs toward the belligerent man.
Hermione couldn't help but stare in awe, even amid everything going on. So, once again, she followed out onto the street.
Spider-Woman jumped and swung around the barbarian like it was nothing. Spider-Man zipped back into the fight and ducked between Rhino's legs as the other hero punched him in the jaw.
The young journalist knew this was idiotic to do, basically sitting on the sidelines as full-blown armageddon was in front of her.
Rhino swatted Spider-Man away, sending him halfway down the street as Spider-Woman jumped into the air and webbed a manhole in between her and Aleksei.
Yanking it up into the air, she soon slammed it against his head, causing the giant to stumble backward.
Right towards Hermione.
Her eyes widened as she tried to move out of the way, but the guy was falling too quickly. Spider-Woman webbed the arm of Hermione and yanked her up towards her.
The journalist yelled out in surprise as she was pulled into the hero's arms and taken to safety on top of the building behind them.
When Hermione's feet touched a solid surface, she instantly looked up to find the mask of the hero every kid loves.
"You were a troublemaker in school, weren't you?" Spider-Women chuckles in a fake voice as she removes her arm from around the journalist's waist and steps back toward the edge, watching Spider-Man web down Rhino. The bigger man's suit was sparking and in obvious need of repairs, while the two heroes only needed new stitches in their suits.
"Spider-Man, are you good?" she yells down, and he gives two thumbs up in return, before jumping slightly as Rhino yells angrily at them.
Hermione watched in awe as Spider-Woman turned back to her and cocked her head slightly to the side. A gesture that finally made the Brit find her voice.
"Can I...Can I have an interview?" Hermione asks and the hero chuckles softly, sitting down on the edge of the rooftop.
"Alright, you have a minute before the police get here" she responds, causing Hermione to widen her eyes and quickly pull out her pen and notepad.
This was a chance of a lifetime, and she damn sure wasn't going to waste it.
"Uh, why did you decide to do this? More specifically, why did you become a hero?" she asks as she eagerly hovers her pen over the empty page of her notepad.
"Well, the world could always use more heroes" Spider-Women replies as she picks up a small crushed can from the roof, and looks back over the edge, throwing it easily into the trashcan down below.
"That's it? Not the fame, money, or adoring fans?" Hermione asked as she scribbled down the responses and questions. Spider-Woman chuckled and shrugs.
"I think IronMan makes enough money for all of us heroes, and fame or fans? You've seen how the news changes their opinion on me, as do the people of New York" she says simply as she hears the sirens starting to get closer. Hermione looks to her right, seeing a part of the street a bit farther away.
"Don't get me wrong, I love all the citizens, but sometimes it does feel like a punch to the arm" Spider-Woman chuckles softly as she stands up from the edge of the roof and stands in front of the journalist. Hermione stops writing and looks at the hero with a shy smile.
"Well, if it's worth anything, I'm one of your biggest fans," she says, making the woman chuckle again and probably smile underneath that mask. Hermione couldn't really tell.
"Time to go!" Spider-Man calls out as he swings past the building just as the boys in blue turn down the street. Spider-Woman took a step back onto the ledge and looked back at Hermione.
"It's an honor to have you as a fan, Ms.Granger," she says as they stare at one another for a moment. Then Hermione realized something.
"Hey, wait-" she starts, but Spider-Woman quickly jumps off and begins to swing away. Hermione ran up to the edge and watched as she followed after her protégé.
"I never told you my name!" Hermione yells out, but it is no use, she is already too far to hear her. The journalist huffed out a soft laugh as she stepped back from the edge and looked down at her notes.
Now she needed to get down from atop this building.
——————
When Hermione stepped back onto the seventh floor of The Daily Bugle, everyone still didn't pay her any mind as she made her way back to her desk. As soon as she sat down, someone leaned against it.
"Where have you been?"
Hermione looks up to find Y/n Y/l/n,  the only photographer who has been able to get clear photos of Spider-Woman & Man. She was also a very good friend.
"You won't believe who I got an exclusive interview with!" Hermione says excitedly as Y/n rolls over an office chair and sits on it backward. Her arms lay on top of the backrest, her chin resting on her forearms.
"Who?" She asks with a smile as Hermione hands her the notepad, watching as the photographer reads the questions and answers.
Y/n couldn't help but let out a chuckle as she handed back the notepad to Hermione. The two girls had been talking for a while about a front-page story she had been told would be hers if she got an interview with the superhuman. Y/n couldn't resist teasing her about the joy on her face.
"Finally got attention from your favorite hero?" Y/n asked playfully, referring to the piece that Hermione had been working on for the past few weeks about Spider-Women.
Hermione rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile. She turned on her desktop, and with practiced ease, logged in to her account. Y/n watched as Hermione's fingers danced across the keyboard, her eyes focused on the screen, completely immersed in her work.
"She is one of the reasons I moved here! I want to be the only journalist on the amazing Spider-Woman" Hermione admits, even having a small flush on her face. It obviously wasn't one of the main reasons, but it was a very good perk.
"You know...I do have connections to her. Maybe I could-" Y/n was cut off when Hermione grabbed the office chair and pulled her closer. Their faces were inches away.
"Can you get me another interview?" She asks quietly as they stare deeply into each other's eyes, Y/n's face growing hot at the proximity.
"I...well...yes!" She stumbles over her words as the smile on Hermione's face grows. She suddenly pulled away and opened her document application on her desktop.
Y/n watched as the woman's face lit up with childlike excitement, her eyes widening and a smile spreading across her lips.
"Thank you!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine appreciation.
"Oh, this will be remarkable," she added, her tone laced with anticipation. Y/n sat up straight, feeling a sense of responsibility to carefully choose her next words.
"I'll see what I can do, but honestly, she might seek you out first," she says with a small smirk as their eyes meet again, a glint was in Hermione's eyes, something Y/n couldn't place.
"Seek me out? What do you mean?" Hermione asks as her eyes follow Y/n, who slowly stands up from the chair and pushes it back to where she got it.
Y/n gave a small smile in response and turned around to walk back to her desk, leaving Hermione to watch her go. As she walked, a glint of mischief shone in her eye, hinting at a playful side to her personality.
Hermione had seen this look before, though, and knew that Y/n had a way of doing things that was uniquely her own. It was just one of the many things that made her such an intriguing person to be around.
She began to smile as well.
——————
Later That Night
Hermione dragged her feet wearily up the narrow staircase, her arms laden with a heavy bag of fragrant Chinese food takeout. The pungent aroma of soy sauce, ginger, and garlic wafted up to her nose, making her mouth water in anticipation.
As she climbed higher and higher, each step felt like a Herculean effort, and she had to pause several times to catch her breath. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she reached the fifth-floor landing and emerged from the dimly lit stairwell, squinting in the bright light of the hallway. The door to her apartment was only a few steps away, but it felt like a mile.
As she reached the front door of her apartment, she let out a gentle sigh and rummaged through her bag to find the keys. Once she found them, she inserted the key into the lock and turned it, hearing the familiar click.
She pushed the door open and stepped inside, feeling the cool air conditioning hit her face. Something about the atmosphere felt different than usual. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but an inexplicable unease crept up on her. Despite this, she took off her shoes and walked further into the house, trying to shake off the feeling.
As she walked down the hallway towards the kitchen, she felt a shiver run down her spine. She couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. That's when she finally noticed her living room light was on, casting a warm glow on the walls.
But as she peered into the room, her heart stopped. Someone was sitting on her couch, their figure illuminated by the light. Panic set in as she tried to make out the person's identity, but then she recognized the mask immediately. Relief washed over her as she realized that there was nothing to fear.
"So, you break into homes? That doesn't seem very friendly" Hermione says with a smirk, causing Spider-Woman to jump up to her feet and turn towards her. Apparently, she had snuck up on the hero.
As Hermione approached her, she could sense a slight hesitation in Spider-Woman's demeanor. However, she quickly composed herself and greeted her.
"Oh, hi!" she said, her fake voice betraying a hint of nervousness.
"Uh, I don't usually do this...well, yes, I do. But for good reason!" She paused for a moment, placing her hands on her hips as if to steady herself. Her head darted around nervously before settling back on Hermione.
"You know, you should really be locking your windows, just in case wall-climbing...robbers become a prevalent issue," Spider-Woman suggests, her tone faltering slightly as she realizes the irony in her statement.
Hermione chuckled softly and placed her food on the small table behind the couch, watching as the hero seemed tense. This must have been a spontaneous decision.
"Anyways, I wanted to give you a better interview, since you had been willing to risk being crushed by a two-ton man to just speak with me" she continues with an awkward chuckle as she put her hands behind her back and laced her fingers together.
Hermione, with a gentle smile on her face, slowly walks around the couch with her fingers trailing along the armrest. As she makes her way towards the masked superhero, she speaks up.
"You must be feeling quite important. After all, you are the one who essentially controls the content of the front page of The Daily Bugle," she says as her eyes meet the mask, and she stands before her, waiting for her response.
"Owner? That's a little...overstated" Spider-Women replies as she steps back slightly as Hermione gets closer.
"Exaggerated? I don't think so, you have been on the front page more than Mayor Osborn" Hermione hums, her eyelids were low as she held a soft gaze with the eyes of the mask. Spider-Woman felt her fake voice starting to falter again, so she cleared her throat in hopes of keeping it up.
"Well, I'll make sure to send him a fruit basket as an apology," she says as Hermione chuckled and sat on her couch, legs crossed over the other as her eyes slowly trailed up the hero's body.
This wasn't the same woman she had saved earlier in the day, there was thick obvious tension between them now, but Spider-Woman had no idea why.
Well...she had a slight idea.
Spider-Woman, her red and blue costume tightly hugging her form, rested her hands back on her hips and looked down at Hermione. The young woman's face was flushed and her hands were balled into the couch cushion.
Spider-Woman's sharp eyes scanned Hermione's face before she slowly sat down on the coffee table across from her. The vigilante's movements were graceful and calculated as if she was always in control of the situation.
Then suddenly, Hermione sat up straight and seemed to calm in an instant, her arms crossing over her chest as she appeared to return back to normal. This girl was hot & cold.
"Would you mind giving me a longer interview?" Hermione asked innocently. Spider-Woman nodded slowly and rested her elbows on her thighs.
"Of course, uh, whenever you're ready" she replies as Hermione pulls out her phone and begins to record with the voice memos.
"My first question is, is it true that you have been taking the time to clean up the shores?" Hermione asks, but it is obvious that she isn't all that interested in Spider-Woman's environmental protection ideals.
"I try my best since fish is one of our main food groups in New York. We don't need people to get sick from any of them" Spider-Woman replied as she rubbed her hands together. A nervous tick perhaps?
"Alright..." Hermione hums as she shut off the recording, which piqued the hero's interest immediately.
Hermione reached behind her and grabbed the plate of food from the small table that was pressed up against the back of the couch.
"Well, that was quick," Spider-Woman chuckled, referring to the speed at which the interview had ended. The aroma of the freshly cooked food still lingered in the air, making both of their stomachs growl.
"I have a few...off-the-record questions for myself than the paper" Hermione explained as she opened the bag and handed her one of the spring rolls she had ordered.
Spider-Woman gave a soft 'thank you' as she hesitated to lift her mask up to her nose. Hermione didn't even look up as she grabbed the two forks from the bottom of the bag and handed her one as well.
The hero then slowly rolled up her mask until her nose and chin were the only things visible. That's when Hermione finally looked up.
Her pupils dilated like wide saucers, but she didn't express anything outwardly that would suggest something was off. So, when she held the tin container full of orange chicken and lo mein between them, the crusader thought nothing of it.
(A/N: ngl, I'm running out of ways to say 'hero')
Spider-Woman sat at the table, her eyes fixed on the steaming plate of Lo Mein in front of her. She couldn't resist the temptation any longer and picked up her fork, twirling it around in the tangle of noodles until she had a perfect bite.
"I love Lo Mein," she confessed. Across from her, Hermione watched with amusement, a soft smile playing on her lips. She picked up a piece of orange chicken and popped it into her mouth, relishing the burst of flavor.
"I know you do, you get it every Friday after work," she says simply, which causes the hero to freeze, the spring roll almost falling out of her mouth.
Hermione continued nonchalantly as she ate, while Spider-Woman stared at her. Oh how much she wished Vulture or Mr.Negative would burst in here, just so she could get out of this conversation,
"H-How did you...I don't know what..." she trailed off in her real voice as Hermione looked back up with a sly smile, almost teasing in a way.
"At first I thought it was just a coincidence that you were the only person who got special treatment with the Spider Duo because I knew that a few people in the Bugle have been able to get connections with other Heroes and Villains alike" Hermione starts as she ate another piece of chicken, chewing it for a few moments before speaking again.
"But then I noticed your tardiness, your ability to basically disappear and reappear at incredible speed, the random bruises, but again, I just thought it was a coincidence" she continues as Spider-Woman just stared dumbfounded. Hermione put the tin container down beside her and gave her full attention to the woman across from her.
"Then today-"
"I have to go," Spider-Woman says abruptly getting up from her seat, her words echo in the room. With the spring roll still dangling from her teeth, she strides swiftly towards the open window, her hair fluttering in the wind.
Her agile movements and aura of determination suggest that she's on a mission, and nothing can stop her. The bright city lights outside seem to beckon to her.
"Y/n."
Y/n froze in her tracks, her eyes fixed on the window. As Hermione stood up and walked towards her, Y/n's heart pounded in her chest, and her palms became sweaty.
She tried to move, but her legs felt like they were made of lead. Finally, when Hermione was close enough, she placed her hand on Y/n's shoulder and gently turned her around to face her. Y/n's eyes met Hermione's intense gaze, and she couldn't help but feel vulnerable under her gaze.
Without another word, Hermione reached up and pulled off the rest of the mask, and smiled like a little schoolgirl.
"There's my favorite photographer" she whispers as she holds the mask in one hand and takes hold of the spring roll as well.
Y/n and Hermione are standing face to face, gazing into each other's eyes. The moon is shining bright, casting a warm glow on Hermione's face.
"How did you know?" Y/n whispers softly, her eyes are filled with wonder and curiosity as they exchange glances. The night is quiet and peaceful, and the only sound is the soft honking of the hussle of the city.
"It's silly really, but that fake voice you were using, is the same one you use to mock Jameson's podcast" Hermione chuckles as Y/n couldn't help but flush at her own stupidity.
"Oh...oh that makes sense," she says as she clears her throat and looks down at their feet for a moment. Hermione just smiled as she placed the spring roll back in her mouth and gently pushed her toward the window, both of them hearing the roaring of sirens nearby.
"You're secrets safe with me, now go kick some ass" Hermione continues as she placed the mask back around her eyes and above her nose. Y/n grinned and slowly stepped backward toward the window.
"It's really nice to have another ally," Y/n says as she takes a final bite of the roll and speaks with her mouth full. She then pulls down her mask all the way, hiding a relieved smile on her face. The weight of the world seems to have been lifted off her shoulders as she welcomes the newfound support.
"I still expect a full interview tomorrow," Hermione says with a smile as she leans against the wall and watches Y/n back up slightly.
"It's a date" Y/n replied as she took a running start and jumped out the window. Hermione walked over to the windowsill, leaning down, and resting her forearms on it. Her chin found itself atop them as well, watching as Y/n swung away toward the boys in blue.
She smiled softly.
"It's a date"
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kykyonthemoon · 1 month
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A chocolate kiss
Childe prepared a sweet surprise for you on Valentine's.
Tags: Childe x F!Reader, High school/ modern AU, fluff, sweet, long distance relationship
1277w
— Masterlist
—————————————
Whenever it’s Valentine’s Day, you always felt a little down.
There were red and pink hues everywhere, along with flowers and hearts, chocolate, and candies. There were couples holding hands, chatting, and gently laughing everywhere you looked. And it was always you who was alone. It was true that you had a love interest, but he was thousands of miles away.
You and Ajax had been in this relationship for three years now. He was originally an international student from Snezhnaya. As soon as feelings began to bloom between you two, he had to return to his country.
You still maintained this relationship since he left. Long distance calls, photos posted on each other's walls, gifts sent through the mail... Long distance love was not a problem for you. But sometimes, on holidays like this, I felt sad.
You wished Ajax were here. In person, not through a screen. In your head, you made up a whole list of things to do together when he came; places to visit, meals to eat together. You could even imagine your reaction to those. Those things made you happy for a moment, and then, when reality reminded you that you never knew when your dreams might come true, you just wanted to cry.
And yet, you had never, ever caused Ajax to worry. Always radiant, you were behind the screen. You just told him about the things that made you laugh. As for what made you cry, you chose to keep it to yourself. You knew, that Ajax himself was very upset for not being there with you. You would not bring him any more trouble.
"Hey, what do you want for this Valentine's Day?" 
Voices from Ajax emerged on both sides of the headgear. You smiled, resting your head on the giant teddy bear he had given you on another occasion.
"I love everything you send me, really."
Ajax grinned. His hair was a mess. He remained in bed. It was early morning at his place, and you had just finished dinner. 
"Then let me think about it!" A hand he reached up, pretending to pull out his hair. "What could bring happiness to my little lady? What might that be?
He muttered those things while you laughed. You only wanted one thing for the holiday, but it's something you shouldn't ask for.
"Ah! I know!" Ajax shouted. He jumped up causing the blanket to fall, revealing his bare chest. Oh, how you missed the feeling of burying your face in that spot. 
"I know what I'm going to give you." As he went on, you enquired:
"What is it?"
"A secret. I won't reveal it so soon." 
Ajax laughed mysteriously. You were curious. It was customary for you and Ajax to exchange gifts on important occasions, particularly Valentine's Day.  You did also prepare a gift for him, which you had not sent yet because you still hope to hand it over to him in person.
The conversation ended with a kiss through the screen. You turned off the phone, feeling both happy and regretful inside. Even more, you desired to be with Ajax. You wanted to feel the warmth of being in his arms, inhale his scent every time he squeezed you, feel his lips pour kisses all over your face and neck while you giggled. 
You only got those luxuries two or three times a year. You too had visited Ajax, but managing both of your schedules had proven to be a challenge. Then there were unexpected things, unplanned changes. Just like that, you felt the distance between you and Ajax getting further and further. 
At one point you thought about the end of this relationship. You loved Ajax so much, you knew he loved you too. It's just that your lives had taken a turn and parted in two different directions. But there was still some hope that the two of you would find a way to be truly together. 
On Valentine's Day, you sat at the café where Ajax and you used to spend hours after school. It was time for your date and you had not seen him yet. His icon on the screen stayed dark and silent. You did not know what he was doing. You glanced eagerly at the time, then back at the screen. 
Thirty minutes, an hour,... Then three hours had passed. You watched people come and go. The café was sparse. The closing time was also near. Your eyes swept over the laptop screen to check time again, then you shut it down in frustration.
You left the shop with a heavy heart. You pulled out a handmade wool scarf for Ajax from your pocket and held it in your arms. You were sad that he did not go online as he promised, and you were even more concerned about the possible reasons why he might not have been able to make it. Maybe he didn't have time to text you because he was preoccupied with something unexpected. Or even worse, perhaps he had encountered some kind of issue...
Your eyes started to flood up with tears just thinking about it. You sat on the sidewalk, looking at the narrow road in front. There was a couple of lovers holding hands who had just walked past; oh how much you longed to go with Ajax side by side like that. You started blaming yourself for being so selfish, wanting to keep him with you. The more you thought about it, the more your heart ached, and the more tears filled your eyes.
Then, you heard a familiar voice calling your name. Once. Twice. After the third time, you turned around.
The familiar orange-red hair stood out in the middle of the street. The tall, thin figure dragged a suitcase and was waving at you, then the steps turned into sprints. You rubbed her eyes. Was this a dream?
Ajax ran over to you as you just stood up. He held you in his arms, lifted you off the ground a few inches and turned you around gently, until you had all the dizziness and had to lean your whole body against his. He kept calling your name and after your feet touched the ground, he wiped away the tears that hadn't dried up from your cheeks.
"Sorry I'm late... My flight... was delayed by several hours... Sorry, I kept you waiting..."
Rushing between words and kisses, it took you a while to understand what he was saying. It turned out that he had secretly booked a plane ticket to visit you, as a Valentine's Day surprise. You were stunned, frightened because you thought you were going to wake up and lose Ajax; then you burst into happiness while realizing this was true. Ajax was in front of you. He placed a deep kiss on your lips.
"Mmmh. Your lips taste like chocolate." He paused for a moment just to say that, making you laugh.
"I just had one cup of chocolate." 
"Want to have another with me?" 
With pleasure, you nodded. "So, is this the secret present you said?" 
After giving you a little peck on the cheek, Ajax said: "Only a part of it. The rest would be revealed soon. In any case, I'm going to stay here for a very long time."
You blinked. One surprise after another made it hard for you to breathe. You let Ajax hold your hand, rub your head, and place another kiss on your forehead. 
Everything was fine, as long as he was around; even for a moment, you would forget all your doubts and just appreciate his sweetness.
-The end-
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hooked-on-elvis · 1 month
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[BEHIND THE RECORD - Elvis onstage from 1969 to 1977] "I Can't Stop Loving You"
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Written and composed by country singer Don Gibson, who first recorded it in 1957, RCA Victor released "I Can't Stop Loving You" in 1958, and it became a country hit single. The song was covered by many artists over the years, most notable one being Ray Charles, in 1962, due to how he turned the tune into a No. 1 single on the Billboard chart.
Elvis Presley performed the song in many iconic concerts of his career - from 1969 into the 70s.
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The first time Elvis Presley was recorded singing "I CAN'T STOP LOVING YOU" was during one of the American Sound Studio sessions, on February 1969. It wasn't an official recording tho. A jam version of the tune was recorded while EP was warming up with his musicians so they could cut the songs that would be released in his LPs for the times following — "From Elvis In Memphis" being the album this recording session was intending to create at first.
Not long after this recording session, "I Can't Stop Loving You" was worked up as a number to Elvis' concerts. Rearranged, the song gained a more dramatic tone than we can listen to from how it originally sounded in Elvis' voice at the recording taped at the American Sound Studio previously, so from this moment on Elvis would perform the tune in quite a few iconic concerts of the latter era of his career, the very start being during his comeback to live performances on July/August 1969, onstage at the International Hotel's showroom in Las Vegas, Nevada.
Soundboard audios with "I Can't Stop Loving You" recorded during his concerts, including in 1969, were released on some his live albums throughout the years, such as "FROM MEMPHIS TO VEGAS (IN PERSON)" [recorded in 1969], "ELVIS AS RECORDED AT MADISON SQUARE GARDEN" (recorded in 1972) and "ELVIS: RECORDED LIVE ON STAGE IN MEMPHIS" (recorded in 1974).
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Live performances of Elvis singing the song were also officially taped, and they are very known to the fans for obvious reasons because they are part of some of the most notable moments of Elvis' history as a performer.
First official taping of EP performing "I Can't Stop Loving You" live took place during one of his engagement seasons at the International Hotel on August, 1970, as released on "Elvis: That's The Way It Is" documentary, then again on April 1972, filmed for "Elvis On Tour" documentary, and not long after that another performance of this tune was filmed during the "Aloha From Hawaii via Satellite" concert, on January 1973.
BUT, BEFORE WE CAN GO TO THOSE FOOTAGES, HAVE YOU LISTENED TO THE JAM VERSION RECORDED IN STUDIO IN 1969?
— NOTE FROM AUTHOR I love sharing Elvis' performances of the same song over the years, but what I would really love you to listen to now is the 1969 jam version of the song we're talking about, for it sounds so different from the live performances the fans are already very familiar with. I didn't knew about this recording until a few days ago and I loved it so much that this track is the reason why I needed to talk about this song. You will read about the moment EP was recording this song soon after.
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Elvis Presley in the waiting room of the American Sound Studio, early 1969.
▼ FEBRUARY, 1969: "I CAN'T STOP LOVING YOU", RECORDED AT THE AMERICAN SOUND STUDIO, MEMPHIS, TENNESSEE.
Song starts at 0:35
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Album: American Sound 1969 (2019)
It was an American Studio tradition: paying tribute to the chief with a rendition of “This Time,” a Chips Moman-penned hit for Troy Shondell in 1961. Elvis had heard about the rite, and he serenaded his producer at the start of the February session with the few lines that he knew, segueing into Don Gibson’s “It’s My Way,” a song he had asked Freddy to check out the year before. Plunking along on his acoustic guitar, laughing at his own mistakes but singing his heart out, he drew the band into another Don Gibson number, “I Can’t Stop Loving You,” which he would transform into a dramatic show-stopper six month later in Las Vegas. Excerpt from "Elvis Presley: A Life In Music" by Ernst Jorgensen and Peter Guralnick.
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— NOTE FROM AUTHOR COOL, ISN'T IT? 😍 Have you heard the 1969 jam session version before? Don't know about you but I just can't stop loving it. So, now let's hear how that baby sound onstage.
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[FOOTAGE]
LIVE PERFORMANCES OVER THE YEARS
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REHEARSAL ▼
July, 1970.
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LIVE ONSTAGE ▼
"Elvis: That's The Way It Is" (August 1970) "Elvis On Tour" (April 1972)
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"Aloha From Hawaii via Satellite" (January 14, 1973)
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RECORDED LIVE ▼
Live at Convention Center Arena, San Antonio, TX (April 18, 1972)
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Live at Madison Square Garden (June 10, 1972)
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High Sierra Theatre at the Sahara Tahoe Hotel, Nevada (May 13, 1973)
Live at Mid-South Coliseum, Memphis, TN - March 1974
Song starts at 0:38:
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I can never get enough of how Elvis' history is so amazing. ♥
What are your thoughts about the jam version of "I Can't Stop Loving You" by EP? I'd love to hear from you.
By the way, do you like this track-to-track-history posts? I've written some so far but I have some others I'd like to share too. If you have any requests, any Elvis Presley songs you'd like to know more about the recording sessions or comparisons of the times a same tune was performed live by Elvis over the years, feel free to hit me with it. I sure will have great fun researching it for you.
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jjasen · 9 months
Text
3 a.m.
request: omg part 2 to white lines and black beaches, white lies and black beaches where rafe gets sober for her PLS bonus if there’s more groveling 
warnings: deals heavily with drugs and substance abuse, please read with care
word count: 1.25k
a/n: this in no way is meant to be a romanticization of addiction! if you or a loved one is going through addiction/recovery, please seek help and know that you are not alone!
Rafe’s hands trembled, cold and clammy as he licked his lower lip, his mouth cottony. He kept his phone close to him always, especially now, and he read your text over and over as he convinced himself not to go to Barry for more cocaine. “Stay sober and we’ll see,” he whispered, gripping the cool marble of his bathroom counter. “Stay sober and we’ll see.”
But the idea of sweet relief flowing through his veins, abating his internal conflict and feelings of self-doubt was such a tempting seductress. Just a little, he thought. That’s all I need. She doesn’t need to know. Rafe sank to the floor, his lips trembling, his thumb hovering over your contact icon, and threw his head back against the bathroom wall.
“Rafe?” Your voice from his phone speaker, distant but so familiar, eased some of his itch for the mindless euphoria that he knew would rush, liquid smooth, through his body.
“Tell me it’s not worth it,” he panted at you. “Tell me not to do it.” His voice was raspy, desperate, and you could tell it was taking everything in him to not give in to his cravings.
“Oh, Rafe. I’m coming over, okay? You’ll be okay. Just- just stay there, alright? I’ll be there in five minutes.”
It had been a few days since the party where Rafe promised he would get sober, and you’d spent every waking minute trying desperately not to think about him, about his words. You were curled up in bed, eyes glazed over as you scanned the same page of your book over and over again, not absorbing any of the words, but rather wondering if Rafe would commit to his vow of sobriety. If he really meant it, that he would choose you over the cocaine.
In five minutes flat, you were standing outside of Tannyhill, your heart thumping. You let yourself in, closing the doors gently behind you, tip-toeing throughout the foyer and up the stairs to his bathroom. Even through the door, you could hear his shallow breathing, feel his panicky fear. With your knuckles you lightly rapped on the doorframe.
“Rafe, I’m coming in,” you called softly, clutching your tote bag to your chest.
Your heart twisted painfully at the sight of the tawny-haired boy slumped on the marble tile, gasping and trembling. He looked up at you with that brilliant blue gaze, something like shame in his eyes. A silent apology that you had to see him like this.
“You came,” he whispered hoarsely.
You sat down next to him carefully and offered him your water bottle. “You called,” you said. You could tell that he was surprised. Surprised that you showed up, that you were really there, that you hadn’t given up on him long ago. A pang of sorrow for the boy who had been neglected so many times ran through your chest. Wordlessly, you took his hand, interlacing your fingers with his. Despite his shivering, he was warm, and the familiar weight of his palm was soothing. 
You aren’t sure how long you sat with him in silence, the only sound filling the air that of his inhalations, whether hours or minutes had passed while you watch the heaving of his chest subside and his breathing become even and slow, his grasp on your hand slowly relaxing. Despite several months of hooking up with Rafe, you were certain that this was the most intimate and vulnerable of the moments you had shared with him, that some unspoken boundary had been crossed and there was no going back.
Absentmindedly, you rubbed circles into his hand with the pad of your thumb. Rafe cleared his throat. “I blocked Barry,” he said quietly, breaking the silence and turning to look at you, his red-rimmed eyes remaining affixed to yours. “I can do this.”
“Rafe.” You paused to look down at your hand entwined in his, cast in a bluish tint by the moonlight filtering through the bathroom window. “This was always supposed to be a no-strings-attached sort of thing. So that we wouldn’t get hurt.” You looked at him, silently begging him to understand. Do you know how much I want to be able to be trust you? Do you know how much it hurts me to see you like this? 
“Why won’t you just admit that we could be so good together if you’d just give us a chance? Why’d you even come here?” he asked, looking away. You could tell he was frustrated, and you opened your mouth to speak. He cut you off. “No, let me finish. It’s like- like you don’t want to wait for me to become the person you believe I can be. And that hurts.” He exhaled slowly and looked at you, his gaze piercingly bright. “You gotta give me the chance to prove it to you, baby.”
 “Hey,” you said softly, “I really want this for you. But- I don’t even understand why you’re doing this. We were- we were fine just hooking up. Weren’t we?” 
It was certainly easier that way, to keep sex and feelings separate. Easier to just shove away the sparks that shivered down your spine each time he looked at you for just a moment longer than necessary. Easier to ignore the way you had slipped into his life, into his routine, to ignore the way that you had no longer become a placeholder for a relationship, but something more.
Rafe shook his head and chuckled, his voice hoarse. “No. Because- because, shit, baby. You make me want to be better. You make me want to be good. I- I want to become someone who could deserve you.”
Your breath hitched in your throat. “Won’t it be hard?” Your question was so quiet it wasn’t even a whisper.
Rafe blinked quickly, as if he wasn’t expecting you to give in this easily. He looked down, almost bashful, then back at you. “Yeah,” he breathed, nodding. “But it’s not hard when I’m with you. Never when I’m with you.”
Your hand moved of its own accord upwards to trace his jaw, fingertips skimming over the light stubble on his cheek. You could tell that it was taking all of his strength to keep his composure; he let out a controlled breath slowly and closed his eyes. The muscles of his neck strained and his hand tightened around yours. “Please just say something already,” he rasped, opening his eyes and searching yours, silently pleading you to see that there was nothing in the world he needed quite as badly as you.
Softly, hesitantly, you pressed your lips to his. He groaned faintly, almost imperceptibly, reaching to tangle his free hand into your hair, pulling you closer to him. It’s a slow and gentle kiss, and you could feel Rafe smile into the crescent of your mouth. When you pulled back, he rests his forehead upon yours, his eyelids fluttering closed, hand still entwined in yours. 
You sat together contentedly, Rafe’s head resting gently on your shoulder. His eyes closed and his breathing even, several minutes pass in peaceful silence before you realized he had fallen asleep. Smiling down at him, his brow smooth and the corners of his mouth curving softly upwards, you kissed his head.
“I love you,” you whispered. And right now, it’s enough for you to hold his hand and fall asleep on the bathroom floor. It’s enough to have him here with you, with the promise of tomorrow on the horizon.
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valkyrayn · 1 year
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Pairing: Marius von Hagen x afab!reader
Words: 3,724
Tags: mild dubcon, angst and porn, jealousy, unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, loud sex, rough sex, oral sex, porn with plot (with plot you say? and the crowd cheers)
A/N: i think there are a few from the prompt requests here. writing this was a sport lmao anyway, sorry for the long hiatus. gotta thank Marius for consistently being the horny mascot and reawakening the horny in me with his new card releases. also i’d like to hear your thoughts if i should continue this(?)
also posted on ao3 if you wanna leave comments! 💜
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Betrayal is one way to put it.
But god you can’t seem to stop. You can’t seem to get enough of this—of him .
No, it’s not betrayal. As long as they don’t find out…
…that you’re fucking the enemy. Not even in the ‘I’ll destroy his life’ kind of way but literal, actual, fucking. And it’s obscene too—just pure unadulterated passion, the kind that leaves you both in a sweaty mess of entangled limbs and reeking of guilt by the end of it. Although it’s mostly you who deals with the guilt, never him. 
And by god you know how bad this is, to sleep with him of all people. 
Because he is no longer part of the NXX. 
Marius von Hagen had blindsided the whole team, to say the least. 
See, the funny thing is, you only started having sex with him after finding out that he has betrayed the group. Maybe it’s the thrill of sleeping with the enemy. Maybe because the sex is so good that the mere sight of his smirk makes your cunt throb. Maybe it’s simply because it’s him.
It was difficult to ignore the growing tension, sexual tension, much to your dismay, between the two of you ever since your first encounter. And it was left brewing for way too long—to a point where it can no longer be contained. 
And when it finally happened, it was spilling all over the edges.
And as much as you despise him, you still find yourself at his beck and call. And you hate the grip that he has on you, especially when he calls you his ‘good little slut’ as he pushes your head down on his cock.
But tonight, you’re on a mission. The voice inside your head reminding you like a broken record ‘to not get distracted. This is an in and out mission.’ Swipe the file and exit the building. Simple. Right?
You spoke too soon.
Marius is here. Fuck. 
You meet his dark violet eyes from across the room—he’s just entered the room and is immediately surrounded by the directors and VIPs like moths to a flame. Your eyes lock briefly and he stares at you with a bored expression, seemingly unbothered with your presence. 
A lady in a sequined dress is now standing by his side, looping her arm over his, her other hand reaching over to fix his collar—there isn’t even a need to, she just needed an excuse to touch him. That bitch has appeared in more than one tabloid news involving Marius. 
‘Youngest von Hagen heir’s future wife?’  
‘PAX CEO new beau?’
‘Hot affair: International Runway Model & Stellis Sexiest Eligible Bachelor’
Vom’. Your grip around the champagne glass tightens at the sight. Fortunately, you catch yourself almost immediately before it shatters all over your hand. The last thing you want to do is make a scene. 
Is this jealousy? No. She just looks annoying as hell. 
So you turn away and make your way out of the ballroom, slipping out of the doors just as the master of ceremony starts speaking over the microphone. 
—----------
The second the file transfer icon disappears from the screen, you unplug the drive from its port and turn off the computer—with still a lot more time to spare. You can rejoin the banquet and even mingle with the men just to spite Marius. With that thought in mind, you smile to yourself as you slip the thumb drive inside the tiny designated pocket in your brassiere.  
“I knew I’d find you in here, jiejie.”
The familiar voice startles you but you remain in your spot, turned away from him. You can feel his eyes on you making the hair stand on the back of your neck. And it’s when you hear the click of the lock that you finally turn to look at him—his back is leaned against the closed door, arms crossed with that sly smirk playing on his lips.
“Give me the drive. I know you have it on you…” He says finally, breaking the brief silence as he pushes himself off the door and starts walking towards you. How naive of you for thinking he wouldn’t have followed you here. He’s not stupid. He’s always five steps ahead of you.
Marius closes in the distance between you, trapping your body against the desk—his tall frame looming over you, his familiar scent clouding your senses. “Or should I...take it from you…” his words turn into a whisper as he leans down and kisses the side of your neck. “…but I won’t be gentle.”
He’s mocking you. You hear your thoughts screaming at you, to refuse him. 
You push him away, willing yourself to not fall into his trap again this time. Your team is counting on you , you can’t let him take away the drive. Not this time…not…
” —ah Marius …what are you…” 
His hand has found its way under your dress, long slender fingers now playing with the hem of your panties. Despite your earlier protest, you feel your resolve slowly crumbling against his touch. 
“Hmm…did you hide it here...” His breath is hot against your ear and your body falls limp against his as it gradually gives in to his touch. He chuckles. “You didn’t put it inside you, did you…?” He slots his leg between you, forcing your thighs apart and starts grinding his knee against your clothed pussy. A moan escapes you at the sudden friction, your hand lands on his chest, gripping onto his shirt in a weak attempt to push him away—but who are you kidding, you’re barely putting any force.
“Fuck you…I’m not giving it to you…” You’re surprised at your retort but he laughs at this. Honestly, you’d laugh at yourself too. Both of you know too well that this is going to end up with you giving him the drive after letting him fuck you senseless. 
“Mmm fuck you too…” His low growl makes your cunt throb and before you have a chance to speak once again, he grabs onto the back of your neck and pulls you into a searing kiss. Your teeth clash, his tongue messily entwining with yours until you finally give in, reciprocating just as hungrily as you swallow his every breath and moan. 
Your resolve is weak against the drug that is Marius von Hagen and it only takes one kiss to completely tear it down. You hate him, you hate this but it feels so good...too good to stop. His kiss is deep and passionate with lust and hatred, but never love. Why would it be anyway?
He pulls your head back by the hair, releasing you from the kiss and reminding you to breathe. For a brief moment, you both just stand there, eyes locked, hearing nothing but the sound of your labored breathing. You press both your palms against his chest, using him as a support as you push yourself off the desk, your eyes locked on his own the entire time. 
There’s a glint in his eye, almost as if he’s willing to let you go if you wish to. Your grip tighten against his shirt and all he does is watch you as you wage the war inside your head. The consequences, the guilt that you’ll have to deal with will be immense. 
And even with all things considered, you sigh—and slide your hands down his body and stop right at his belt before looking back up at him. 
“I fucking hate you.” 
Without warning, Marius turns your body around and bends you over—your ass in the air and your feet and palms flat on the floor, presented to him like a prized whore. He’s bent and fucked you in numerous positions before, taking advantage of your flexibility. “…there’s only so many places where you can hide it.” 
You feel him push the skirt of your dress up your body, bunching it around your waist before gripping onto it to keep you steady. He wastes no time in pulling your panties down, exposing your embarrassingly soaking cunt to him, leaving no room for you to deny that you want him. 
You hear him curse under his breath at the sight and it takes all of him not to immediately shove his cock into your wet heat. He prefers to savor you first.
He plunges his fingers inside your cunt, before leaning in to suck onto your clit—earning him a strangled moan from you. His tongue is hot against your folds, lapping and suckling onto it hungrily, determined to make you cum in his mouth. He loves the way your legs tremble just from the way he’s eating you out. 
“Mmmph…you taste so goo–” He moans against your pussy, the vibration shooting electric up your spine, cutting your words off with a gasp. Your cunt starts clenching wildly around his tongue, desperately needing him deeper. He hooks his fingers inside you and hits you at the exact spot where you want him to, instantly making you gush around him. He laps onto your dripping pussy, swallowing your essence as he starts working on unbuckling his belt. 
He winces as he pulls out his cock from his pants, hard and erected, balls heavy, aching to unload deep inside your womb. He continues to make you cum with his mouth several more times before finally pulling you off the floor and placing you back onto the cold surface of the desk. You look at him through half lidded eyes, mind still dazed from the orgasms he’s put your body through. 
“You’re beautiful…” he says it so casually that you almost missed it. His large hands presses against your inner thighs, spreading your legs open for him to finally fuck you. And just as he lines up his tip against your entrance, you press your palm on his chest, lightly pushing him away. 
“Is that what you say to her as well?” 
Marius freezes in his spot for a second, as if trying to process what you had just asked. When the realization sinks in, you see his lips curl into a smirk. 
“Don’t you think she is?”
You raise your eyebrow. “Think she’s what ?”
“Beautiful?”
You can’t help but let out a scoff. You push him against the chest with both your hands now, ready to leave. This shouldn’t bother you the way it does, but it stings regardless if you have feelings for him or not. 
“If you think she is, then why are you here?”
Just as you’re about to push yourself off the desk, he grabs onto your shoulders and pins you flat against the surface, knocking the breath out of you. “Get off me! You—“
And then he’s kissing you again, his mouth swallowing the curses leaving your lips intended for him, his body heavy and pinning you down with nowhere to move. And when he finally pulls away, his eyes bore into you—your death stare mirroring his and if looks could kill, you’d both be dead by now.
“I shouldn’t have let you fuck me..” you manage to say through gritted teeth, that familiar anger returning to your senses. He looks unfazed, used to hearing you say that every time and yet you come right back to him. So instead, he smiles, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as he leans in to whisper next to it.
“Then why did you?”
Before you could spit back, you’re both interrupted by the voice of the woman in question—just right outside the door.
“Marius? Love? Are you in there? ” Her sing songy voice makes you roll your eyes. Marius seems unbothered, his eyes never leaving you even as you break eye contact. A small whimper escapes your lips when you suddenly feel his cock pressing against you once again due to the proximity. Realizing this, he immediately makes a move to push himself off of you only to be stopped with your legs wrapping around his waist. 
Make up your damn mind, woman—the voice in your head is all but done with you. But this is your chance, to claim what’s yours.
“Fuck me. Fuck me right now..” You can’t believe what you just said but your mouth and body are now acting against your will. “Use me, Marius. Please, ruin me..” 
Though confused and simultaneously aroused, Marius was more than happy to oblige. He wastes no time, lining the tip of his cock once again on your entrance before sheathing himself fully inside, making you both moan in unison. “Oh my god..yes you feel so good inside me!” You moan a little bit louder than necessary, causing him to raise an eyebrow at you. 
“Umm…Marius? Are you in there..?” The woman asks, her voice muffled by the door—thin enough that the noise from inside the room can still bleed into the hallways, which is perfect. You want her to hear you.
Still unbothered by her inquiries, Marius pulls down the front of your dress to expose your tits to him, freeing them from their confines so they can bounce wildly in rhythm to his hard pounding. He leans in to suck on a nipple, making your body jerk against him.
Small fingers threading through his hair, you pull him closer, needing to feel his entire body against you, to feel his sweat on your skin. He grabs onto your ass, adjusting you to an angle that allows him to push deeper inside you. 
“Nngh...you’re still so tight…I just fucked you two days ago…” Your walls clench at his words, pulling out a strangled moan from him. It feels like heaven, impaled on his cock like this, your body shaking at every push and pull. You’re high just from the sound, the smell, the sensation—and for a second you even convince yourself that what you have between you is more than just lust and hate. 
The door knob rattles, pulling you out of your ludicrous thoughts, hitting you with the realization that the woman is still out there. Too used in keeping it down, since you both are always fucking in secret, you forgot the real reason why you were doing this in the first place. 
“Deeper.. harder Marius!” His eyes widen at your command, but he pulls back and pushes your knees to your chest allowing him to slam his hips harder against you. 
“Mmm jiejie..you’re so loud.”
“Isn’t that what you wanted?”
He laughs, his cock bumping against your cervix and your body instinctively pushes him away only for him to grab your ass and roughly pull you back against him. The scream that came out of you then is not on purpose—and you’re sure as hell everyone in the building could hear that. 
“Mmph—fuck! Marius, too deep!”
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” he smirks, a little too proud of himself for using your own words against you.
The desk starts moving beneath you from the force of his pounding—he fucks you like he hates you (which makes it easy for him because you assume he does), with your entire body in the mercy of his hands. His eyes are fixated on where you’re connected, reveling at the sight of your cunt creaming around his cock as he pushes in and out—changing his pace to hit you at the right spot every time. 
“Marius..Mariu—I’m cumming..” 
He suddenly pulls out of you and turns your body around before pushing you back onto the desk—the cold surface of the wood against your erect nipples making you shiver. He grabs onto the dress bunched around your waist for leverage as he sinks his huge cock back inside your dripping pussy—cursing into the ceiling at the way your cunt stretches to accommodate him. “Shit…fuck!”
“Nnnghh…please Marius..let me cum! I want to...feel…want you...inside...” you’re mumbling, mind reduced to incoherence. He grabs a fist of your hair and pulls you back, arching your back towards him until you’re close enough for him to lean in and lick the side of your neck. 
“Mmm..you can’t keep your pretty mouth shut, can you?” He shoves two of his fingers inside your mouth, making you drool on him as you run your tongue along his digits. “You want the people outside to hear you?” His other hand now on your heaving chest, grabbing onto your breast to play with your sensitive nipple, coating it with your saliva.
“Mmphh… please… ”
“Please what?”
“Please make me cum…”
“Louder.”
“Please I want to…I wanna…”
“She can’t hear you.”
Something snaps in you then. You reach your arm behind you to grab onto his hair and tug him down, forcing him to release his own grip from your hair. 
“Marius please fucking make me cum, you asshole!” 
“That’s my good girl…” 
He pulls away and presses onto the side of your head, planting your cheek against the desk with one hand grabbing onto your ass, spreading you open so he can watch his cock sink into you. “Mmph…fuck baby. Your pussy is so greedy for my cock swallowing me full like this…” The obscene squelching noise of him fucking your soaking cunt is sending him closer to the edge. But he wants this to last longer, wants you to cum for him before he’ll even allow himself to. 
His hips slam repeatedly against your ass, the next one harder than before. The feet of the desk screeches against the tiled floor as it gets pushed further towards the wall. Your nails sink into the edge of the desk, holding onto it for dear life, willing your body to him as he fucks you until you’re braindead. You’ve given up on words, the only noise leaving your mouth are strangled moans and screams of his name until you finally cum around him, squirting uncontrollably as he keeps fucking into your hole with punishing thrusts. 
“I love how hard you can take it…such a good fucking girl…keep cumming for me…just like that…” His fingers are now circling your clit, stimulating you even further as if your body isn’t still sensitive enough from the explosive orgasm. You thrash beneath him as his pace slows down but now he’s pushing even deeper, ridge and veins brushing against your insides.  
The rattling of the door knob becomes more aggressive, now accompanied by loud knocks on the door. But you can’t hear her voice anymore, drowned out completely by Marius’ heavy breathing next to your ear. He pulls you up and tilts your head towards him, his eyes boring into yours, dark amethyst eyes filled with lust. 
“Just keep your eyes on me.”
You feel your heart clench—it’s a fleeting moment but for a second, it feels different.  
He presses his lips against yours and you melt instantly into the kiss, both your eyes fluttering close as you feel him spill inside you. The warmth of his seed filling your womb triggers another orgasm, the kind that sends your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. You both moan into each other's mouths at the release, your cunt clenching tightly around his twitching cock as he continues to shoot his semen inside your walls. 
He pulls out and brushes the tip of his cock against your thigh, pumping out the last few drops of his cum and smearing it on your skin, as if to mark you with his scent. 
Your body falls weakly onto the desk and he steps back to admire your ruined appearance. Tousled hair, dress disheveled, panties on one side of your ankle and cunt dripping with his cum. 
Guilt. 
He always feels guilty by the end of it, but his face will never show it. And to further cover it up, he steps back towards you and turns you around only to sheathe his cock back inside you. You make no effort to protest, you’re the one who told him to use your body as he pleases. Your breathy moans fill the room as he begins to fuck you again. No words spoken this time; just mewls and grunts and lewd sounds that your bodies make. 
This goes on until the noise outside the door finally stops. She’s probably given up; good.
And when you’re both finally satiated, he finally steps away from you. Standing quietly, a few feet apart from each other as you both tidy yourselves up. Although you opt to not wipe the combined fluids in between your thighs, to serve as a reminder that you’ve once again slept with the enemy.
He leaves the room first, standing tall and unashamedly confident as if he hadn’t just spent the past hour fucking you to oblivion—you, a woman he’s not betrothed to. You watch as the door closes behind him before letting out the biggest sigh. Your heart hurts. So much for thinking that you’re numb to these emotions but as you leave the room and see the woman next to him, you know you were far from being numb. 
She catches you staring and rolls her eyes before running her fingers through his hair to fix it, acting all unbothered, as if she hadn’t just heard your screams of pleasure from behind the door caused by the very man she claims as hers. But a side piece like you doesn't phase her; she’s on a mission of her own and that is to make Marius hers.
Your mission? 
Not to become attached to him. Failed. 
To obtain the info and bring the drive. Fail—
You feel an object poking at you through the hidden slit of your dress. Strange. You pull it out and inspect it—it’s the drive. 
You lean against the wall behind you as you clutch onto the small object against your chest, mind reeling. You saw him take it from you; saw him putting it inside his pocket so then why—
The vibrating sound of your phone startles you. It’s a text from an unknown (but familiar) number.
“take the W. but i won’t go easy on you next time.”
You scoff. This was far from over. 
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songsofadelaide · 6 months
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"Hey, pretty. How about a cup of coffee for your regular?"
You looked up from the table you were wiping and found international rock star Suguru Geto seated in one of the restaurant's booths.
"No sweetener, like the usual?"
"Your smile's enough sugar for me," he chuckled.
As his next door neighbour and childhood friend, you've known him from his days as the guitarist for Infinity, your neighbourhood's most popular underground band. When he received an invitation to play the bass for the insanely famous city band Night Parade, he left behind his life in your small town and ran with his ambitions.
In between your work as a columnist and part-time waitressing, you tried your best to be present for him, answering his calls whenever you could and replying to his mundane texts, no matter how intermittent they were. Suguru was nothing but grateful for your support, and he knew for certain that you were always in his corner regardless of what he did.
And the first thing he did after his band's tour was return to his hometown, eager to spend his precious and well-earned vacation with his family and closest friends.
Rumours broke out that he was dating the rising model and fashion icon Manami Suda, something he hasn't talked about before, but now that it's all over the news, it was impossible for him not to say anything about it.
It was an unspoken routine you both built up in your heads, a seamless understanding that remained even after months and months of separation— he'd wait for your shift to end and drive you home in his orange Hilux, the car from his boyhood, one which you'd usually ride shotgun in.
Your night drives were always pleasant and quiet— it brought Suguru a sense of normalcy in his usually hectic life as an artist. While the world seemed to move twice as fast as you passed by every familiar street, time always seemed to stop whenever it was just you two.
It felt like you two were the only people in the world.
But you were ready to bid goodbye to this feeling. Suguru was seeing someone now, after all. Someone who fits in his world much better, you could even call them well suited for each other. You were perfectly content just being at his corner, never again to speak of your unyielding fondness for him. At least that's what you keep telling yourself.
His chatter died out as he pulled up to your family's front porch, a slight hint of hesitance before he eventually turned to you and beckoned you to come closer.
Suguru rested his forehead against your own, just like a cat seeking comfort from their master. While the close proximity was something you were used to, it didn't change the fact that it always sent your heart into hysterics.
Maybe he's tired.
He couldn't get a read on your expression, but he was surprised by the way you recoiled from what was supposed to be a tender kiss.
"S-Suguru, I know I said I'd always be in your corner, but I didn't expect you to think that I'm convenient…"
"What? No! That's not what I—"
"You're going out with someone, aren't you? It's everywhere… I know it's not my place to comment about anything, but please have some respect for them. And for me, too!"
"Hey! Gh—"
There was little he could do after you slammed the door shut on your way out.
"Ugh. Way to fuck things up, Suguru," he groaned to himself.
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The morning after crying out your eyes and heart was supposed to be unbearable, but you were far too rattled by the sound of Shoko's arrival, your best friend, now the local paediatrician, hastily pulling the covers off of you.
"Hey! Have you seen the news?!"
"What? Did anything happen?"
She fished out her mobile phone from her pocket and replayed the news clip that's already gone viral—
"—guru Geto has denied the rumours that he's dating supermodel Manami Suda and has revealed that he is trying to win the affections of his longtime friend. In a rather casual interview in his close friend and entrepreneur Satoru Gojo's podcast 'Inside the Hollow', Suguru spoke of—"
—and leaving you completely baffled. "Wait, what?"
An excerpt of Satoru's podcast played over the news clip.
"—toru, you and I know how much she… means to me. If she's listening to this now, I hope she knows how much I appreciate having her in my life. I've been looking forward to coming home after 10 months of touring and seeing her is one of the things I'm really excited abo—"
"Uh…?"
"I know I told him to come out with it so you guys could work things out, but I didn't expect him to be so… stupid!" Shoko sighed. "That idiot Geto just revealed your identity to nearly the whole world!"
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