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#I hope the tone of this reply sounds casual. I never want to be mean to strangers on tumblr.com
mrstargkonnen · 5 months
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I think alot of people dislike Helaemond shippers because so many of them seem to push the narrative that this is happening at any cost 😭 It’s fine to have a crackship but it’s okay for people to acknowledge this doesn’t make sense for the story logically. There is quite literally ZERO time for the show to tackle this reveal; B&C is happening in the first episode or so. Aegon’s arc is primarily made up of him being sent into a resent-driven rage after his heir is murdered and Helaena wouldn’t have an affair. This arc shouldn’t go to Aemond and it won’t. The person who replied to you is correct when saying that not all leaks should be taken seriously but this one is from an extremely solid source and has insider info (Wtdasoiaf) and shut this down. It’s not happening.
I have too much of an open mind to believe something with 💯 certainty. For all I know you could be right and I’m okay?…with..that? I’m just here for a good show, and even though I personally think helaemond would add to that goodness 🍿, it will probably still be good without it! 🤷🏻‍♀️
But for the sake of not having a boring reply, it’s also illogical to think we have any idea how s2 will play out when it’s clear the writers love making changes. Did you know Helaena would be a dreamer? That Laenor would live in s1? I don’t think so. So why do people continue to use the book as gospel, let alone leaks? Anything can happen, my friend, and I’m personally open to whatever comes because I like enjoying things! lol Regarding time- a lot can happen in an hour~ish. I hardly think everyone is gonna be trying to kill each other the entirety of every episode. I’m sure there will be time for emotional moments, don’t you? If the writers want to make this lil ship canon they’ll do it whether we like it or not, just as they have other things. It’s that simple.
The fun part is that everyone is free to enjoy the show however they want! But if you’re reading this and my halaemond takes are too annoying, please unfollow me or block me- and I say this kindly! 🤍If something isn’t bringing you joy, then what’s the point, you know what I mean??
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dumpywrites · 24 days
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Two Days - Jungkook
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Summary: He just wants you to give him two days. He'll take you on a few dates and you'll decided if you actually like him? Or not?
Genre/tags: mostly fluff, tiny bit of angst, friends to lovers, biker jungkook, jungkook is a goofball and a simp! :)
Pairing: Jungkook x she/her reader
a/n: this is my first ever bts/jk fic, I'm just trying this out since i have some days off from work, hope y'all like it <3
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“Please?”
“No.” 
“You’re missing out.” 
“Jungkook, we’re literally in a Burger King.”
You heard the man playfully saying, “Yes, and?” in a singing tone. All you could do was rolling your eyes in reply. Jeon Jungkook, this guy who had been begging you for his so-called masterplan that he called, “trial date” for weeks, was now yet again begging you for a chance.
You could not exactly pinpoint when it actually began. He was shy the first time you met. You had known the rest of the boys ever since you met Yoongi at an art class. The cold looking guy who was surprisingly friendly and soft-hearted, later on introduced you to the rest of the guys. Jungkook was introduced almost a year later into befriending the group. He was a guy who went to the same gym as Namjoon. They became friends ever since he offered Namjoon a ride one time. 
Being the youngest amongst the guys and also the latest you got to meet, you would think that his shyness would linger at least a little bit longer. Then again, if you really think about it, he probably only stayed quiet and shy on the first meeting. 
The idea of both of you together was never mentioned until recently. Namjoon was the one who started calling out Jungkook’s odd behavior towards you, but the nail on the coffin was when you all got drunk at Jimin’s house that one time. 
It was Jimin’s birthday and truthfully, you knew the guy was loaded rich, but you did not know he was rich with capital R. The selection of bottles in his house was pretty much unlimited from the ones you like to the ones you couldn’t even name. It was five hours into all the celebration and you all were blurting nonsense. You were tipsy, but still aware cause for some reason you were winning all the games that night and got to drink less. But Jungkook on the other hand, who was usually winning everything, was getting pissy cause he kept coming second after you. 
“This is unbelievable.” Jungkook groaned, casually throwing the boardgame cards on the table. 
“You just have a soft spot for her.” Jin shrugged. 
“I do not! I just have a crush on her.” Jungkook retorted back, as if his sentence made any sense. 
You heard Hoseok voiced a small “oh” with his usual judgy expression, and the rest were silent for a second, including you. 
“I mean…” Jungkook tried to correct himself but stopped mid-way, trying to make up words in his already drunk mind. His eyes went back and forth to everyone before he scoffed. “You all act so surprised, as if you didn’t tease me everyday right after the first time I met Y/N.” 
When the room was still silent, Jungkook realized he fucked up, his blurry mind completely ignored the fact that you, the subject of this topic, was in fact also in the room. 
“Shit.” Was all he muttered before he excused himself to the bathroom, and did not come out for twenty minutes. 
When he was done, everyone had decided to wrap it up due to the awkwardness and the absence of Jungkook himself. He found Taehyung and Jin sleeping on both sides of Jimin’s big couch, and a small smile formed on his lips, shaking his head over the dumb expression they had in their sleep. His stomach soon flipped right after he saw you on the kitchen, making yourself a cup of instant noodle. 
“Oh, hey.” You greeted awkwardly. “I got hungry from all that drinking.” You shyly mentioned. 
Jungkook only nodded and took a seat on one of the dinning chairs. 
“You want some?” You offered, trying to break the ice. 
“Y/N stop.” His eyes widened once he realized how bad that sounded. “I mean… I didn’t mean it like that?” He chuckled dryly, it was more of a statement rather than a question. 
When you kept quiet but sat down next to him regardless, and ate your noodles, he decided you were at least comfortable enough to hear him talk. “This whole huge crush on you thingy… that’s not gonna ruin our friendship or anything, right? If you’re uncomfortable I’ll just stop showing up when you’re around for a—”
“What?! No! Jungkook, I’m not uncomfortable.” You sighed. “I’m just a bit surprised, I guess.”
“Why though?” He asked innocently, his big doe eyes looking straight at you, making you slightly nervous. 
“It’s just… you do realize you’re quite popular right?”
“What’s that gotta do with this situation?”
“I thought I wasn’t your type.” 
“You don’t get to decide that.”
That was the last civil conversation you had with him until he decided it was a good idea to cling to you almost every single day, pestering on the idea of this whole trial dating. Everyone other than Yoongi, who was neutral (read: don't really care enough to actually voice an opinion at the moment), was pretty much on board with his plan. You being single for a year now definitely did not help your case. They kept saying that you needed to lit up your dating engine again, so it wouldn’t be rusty. 
It was not that you did not find Jungkook attractive. Heck, he was one of the most attractive person you had ever laid your eyes on. It was just, weird? He felt like a brother, the same as the rest of the boys. If you didn’t treat any of them different, then you should not with Jungkook either, right?
“Have you maybe considered that maybe she’s tired of your bullshit?” Yoongi blurted with a blank expression, as he continue to munch on his burger. 
“It’s only been two weeks.” Jungkook protested. “Besides, you never know 'till you try, right?” He winked at you. 
You rolled your eyes. “I’m good, Kookie.” You pinched his cheeks, a little bit too hard. 
“H-hey!” He pouted, his cheeks forming even rounder. “Two days! Two days!” He suddenly shouted. 
“Oh boy…” Hoseok side-eyed the rest of you, clearly done with the younger one. 
“Give me two days, Y/N!” He said with his two fingers right in front of your face. “You don’t have plans this weekend, right?”
“Hey, maybe—“ Namjoon didn’t even get to finish his sentence before the lad interrupted. 
“I’ll take you on two dates and then you can decide afterwards.” He grinned, as if that was the most brilliant thing he had ever thought of. “If you still don’t like me after that then I will gracefully back off.” He threw his hands in the air. 
“You promise?” You suddenly spoke, after being silent for a while. 
“Wait, you’re actually considering—“ Jin stood up from his seat, almost knocking his table. 
Jungkook hurriedly covered Jin’s mouth, not letting yet another man finish his sentence again. “I promise!” He saluted, grinning so hard his cheeks almost hurt. 
“Are you really sure?” Yoongi whispered to you. 
You only shrugged. Truthfully, you were not sure either. But at this point, you just wanted Jungkook to get over his girl hyperfixation of the month. Which was, you. 
You just did not buy the story of him being head over heels on you since day one. As if he didn’t look like a Greek god himself? As if you did not know how women and even men would kill just to get a taste of him. You just wanted him to get it over with, so he can realize how weird the whole idea was and went back to being the goofball friend you once knew. 
Right, so.
Now here you were, basically having a mini dress-up montage moment, picking an outfit for your cinema date. Even after spending almost an hour getting ready you ended up with just wearing your usual crop top and baggy jeans, hoping it will be fine. Clearly you didn’t wanna seem like a try-hard. It was just Jungkook. He had seen you with pajamas and you didn’t hear him complain, so there shouldn’t be a problem. Why did you even go through the trouble to pick an outfit? You wondered yourself. 
Ten minutes later and Jungkook was already ringing your phone. 
“I’m at your lobby!” He exclaimed loudly over the phone. 
“You’re early.”
“Just can’t wait to see you.” You could not see his face, but you knew he was grinning like an idiot. “Hurry down! Oh, and bring your jacket.”
You didn’t expect him to came with a motorbike. A huge one not to mention. Something stirred in your stomach for a millisecond seeing him in a leather jacket. 
He took a spare helmet and innocently handed it to you. “Gotta make sure my girl is safe.” He sheepishly said. 
You tried your best to ignore the nickname, and spoke. “I didn’t know you ride a motorcycle.” You said, taking the helmet he gave in your hands. 
“I’m just too lazy to drive sometimes so I just lift on Hobi’s car.” He shrugged. “Why? Are you scared?” He teased. 
“Of course not.” You said and put on the helmet. You did not miss his small snickers when you struggle to hop on his Harley, having to grab him by his shoulders. 
“Okay, just wanna let you know, I drive like suuuuuper fast. So, you have to hug me to be safe!” He giggled. 
You rolled your eyes, even if he couldn’t see. “I’m just gonna head back upstairs...”
“Don’t be such a sourpuss.” He chuckled. “I’m a good driver, Namjoon approved! But you can grab onto my jacket if you want.” 
The movie was great. 
And that was a lie, cause truth to be told, you could barely focus on the plot. Every time you caught a glimpse of the boy next to you, his eyes were already looking at you. While it was true that you had not been dating for quite some time, you could feel your spidey-sense tingling, as if you were to turn your head towards him, something would happen. Thinking about it was not exactly the best thing for you.
“We’re getting ice cream.” Jungkook cheerfully said, as you both walked out the cinema. 
“That’s not a question?” You couldn’t help but to smile at the silliness. 
“Not a chance I’m letting you go home yet.” 
“Is this a date or a kidnapping?” 
“Could be both if you want.” He laughed. “So…” He cutely put his hands in his pockets as you walked. 
“So?”
“So… how’s life?” 
“You did not just ask me that.” You laughed.
“What? I’m just trying to make actual conversation!” He laughed as well, but later on his expression softened. “You seemed down these past couple of days though?” 
You tilted your head slightly. You didn’t think he would notice. 
“You… noticed?”
“Of course I did!” He grinned, patting his chest proudly. “You didn’t talk that much at our last movie night at Taehyung’s. You usually love to debate after watching a movie.” He chuckled. "The fact that you're not even starting a discussion right now, is lowkey concerning."
That was because of an entirely different thing, but you chose not to say. “I haven't even told Yoongi.” 
“Even if you tell him, he wouldn’t tell anyone either, so what’s your point?” 
“That’s fair.” You broke a small smile. 
“What happened?” He stopped mid-track, suddenly losing a bit of confidence in his speaking tone. “I mean, only if you’re comfortable enough to tell me…”
Your expression softened. “It’s a bit stupid…”
“It’s okay, I’ll listen!” He nodded towards you. “I’ll just quickly grab those ice cream and we’ll sit down somewhere?” 
Minutes later he came back with two ice creams and a big stupid grin plastered on his face as usual. “Here you go, let’s sit down on that bench.”
You nodded and thanked him before following him to the bench. 
“Come sit close to me!” He patted right next to him. When you only looked at him blankly. He added, “Please?”
You sat down close to him but left a bit of space enough so that your shoulders wouldn’t touch. 
“Are you cold?” 
“Uh… no.”
“Okay, good.” He smiled and took a big bite of his ice cream. “So, do you still wanna tell me? Or we could also just sit and talk shit about Jin while we eat ice cream if you don’t want!”
You smiled. Looking into his eyes, you could feel his sincerity. It could be just you, but you felt somewhat… safe. 
“I used to date this one guy… We dated for three months before I ended things with him.” 
You looked up to Jungkook, expecting to see a negative expression but he remained silent, only nodding to signal you to continue. 
“To be fair we haven’t been in touch for almost a year, but he suddenly called me. He was drunk and said a bunch of nonsense. I still replied at first, cause I was worried for his safety. But after I found out he was drunk at home, I bid my goodbye. Then he suddenly said…” You took a deep breath. “He said that I’m a 4.5 with a bitch attitude and being picky won’t help me.” You broke into a sad grin. “It’s stupid, I know—“
“Who is this fucker? Can I beat the shit outta him? How come I’ve never heard about this?!”
“Probably cause this is how you react.” You chuckled. “It had me quite bothered for quite sometime, maybe the fact that I also haven’t dated in a while adds to it, but I guess I feel somewhat better now.” 
“So that’s why you said you thought you weren’t my type?” 
“Huh?”
“That fucker needs to get his eyes and brain checked.” He shook his head. “You know, it’s fine to not want to settle for less.” He said as he looked at the sun setting in the sky. “He’s just butthurt you don’t want him back.” 
You stayed silent but nodded.
“His dick’s probably small anyway.” When you slapped his arm, he laughed. “What? Am I wrong? Why did you even break up with him?”
“He's sexist!”
“And his dick is small.” He followed. 
“Jungkook!” You began to laugh as well. 
“You know you’re easily a ten, but I’ll give a nine for now.” He said, pretending to be serious with rubbing his chin and squinting his eyes. 
“Why? What deduct the one point?”
“Cause you haven’t like me back yet.” 
“God, make that at least five points then, I hate you.” You rolled your eyes, but laughed. 
He smiled softly. “Feeling better?” 
“Well, I guess? But now my ice cream's all melty.” You pouted, trying to lick some that was melting down the cone. 
“That’s why you eat fast like me.” He proudly said. 
“And have stomach problem? No thanks.”
“Here let me just…” He licked a stripe from your cone and took a big bite. “There.”
You were taken aback. So stunned that you could only blink a few times at him. 
“What? Don’t tell me that turned you on?” He smirked. 
“You… Jungkook, that’s gross!” You whined, which only resulted in his laughter. 
The next day Jungkook wanted a full day date. Boy kept saying that he wanted fair chance since it was his last day. He already planned a list of things both of you would do and all, and the first being eating brunch with you. 
“Do you really have to come this early?” You complained as you opened your apartment door for the guy. 
When the said guy sheepishly didn’t move and enter, you raised one of your eyebrows. His hands were behind his back, clearly holding something, and you can see both of his arms flexed, seemingly grasping something tightly. You were searching for his boyish grin, but his expression seemed worried instead. 
“I got you flowers.” He said, sounding discouraged. 
“Oh?” You replied, but wondered why he just kept standing and not move. 
“I found out last minute that you don’t like flowers…” He frowned. “Yoongi told me in the group chat after I got too excited and sent them a pic of the flowers I got you.”
He looked like a lost puppy, and suddenly you had the urge to hug him to ease all his pain away. You stopped yourself before the impulse got the best of you and you grabbed him by the forearm, dragging him inside and closing the door. 
“You can’t stay in that position the whole day, you have to hand me the flowers.” You folded your arms, trying to hold in a chuckle. 
“But you don’t like them!”
“I haven’t even seen them.”
He finally moved his hands and revealed a small bouquet of fresh daisies. It was a simple bouquet, nothing too extravagant with a brown wrapping paper. It somehow reminded you of his smile and how radiant he looked when he did so. Yes, you did not like flowers, they were unpractical, it felt like an unnecessary addition, a waste of space. But somehow you like it. It made you feel all warm and fuzzy and it was very pleasant. It made you wanna accept it with open arms. Truthfully, the description did not really feel like it was describing flowers anymore, but you decided to not further ponder on it. 
“Thank you.” You took the flowers and sniffed it, before setting it down on your table. 
“I’m sorry I didn’t know, I feel so dumb cause everyone knew already and—“
“Hey, we’ve only known each other for three months.” You assured. “Besides, it’s really not much of a big deal, I actually like them.” 
“You do???”
“Yeah, they look pretty. I don’t know how long I can keep them looking like that though.” 
“Oh my god…” He exhaled deeply. “I was so worried it would be a deal breaker or something. I was literally shaking!”
He laughed and showed his right hand in front of you, it was shaking slightly. You didn’t know why he laughed at it, you didn’t find it funny. 
“It happens sometimes when I’m nervous.” He chuckled. 
Instead of saying something, you took his hand into yours just by intuitive. It was impulsive, but you let go before he had the chance to intertwine his fingers with yours. He didn’t comment on your behavior, but a smile was still on his face as he waited for you to grab your things to go. 
The brunch was on this small cafe near your place. You insisted on paying this time, since he paid for yesterday. The brunch was spent with him trying to sneakily hold your hand, but failed every single time. 
Next activity on the list was buying clothes together. As cringey as that sounded, and you even almost opposed the idea, Jungkook said that he needed to buy new outfit and he wanted to hear your feedback. Plus, some of his clothes barely fit him anymore since he decided to become a gym rat. 
“You actually look great in those skirt.” 
“You’re joking.” You denied, but twirled around in front of the mirror anyway, while trying to convince yourself that you didn’t need the purchase. 
“I’ll buy them for you if you won’t.” 
“We didn’t have all those money-saving talk with Namjoon only for you to say that.” You folded your arms. 
“Oh come on, you look great!” He pointed to you and his lips forming into a small pout. “Besides, we’re on a date today so I think that’s a pretty good excuse.” 
“I thought we are here to help you buy some clothes, not buy me skirt that I probably won’t wear that often.” 
“Let me spoil you for once… please?” He begged, eyes all sparkly. His lips shined along with his two lip piercings. 
“Alright, fine... I’ll get the skirt, but!” You eyed him. “Only if you buy that straight-cut jeans you just tried before.”
“Deal.”
“That’s it? You’re not gonna argue on how those aren’t on trend anymore?” You raised an eyebrow. 
“I was gonna buy them anyways. You were practically drooling when I showed you.” He smirked and wiggled his eyebrows playfully at you. “Kinda was just waiting for you to admit it…”
You only rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t open your lips to deny his words either. 
After you changed back into your clothes and Jungkook paid for the purchases, he went back to you with a sly grin on his face and you immediately suspected something. He came back with a pair of matching string bracelet. 
“You can just not wear them later if you don’t want to, but let me be delusional for today, okay?”
You both left the store after you let him put the bracelet on your wrist. 
Next in line was spending time on a local amusement park. It was nothing too extreme, just a small carnival that has a few rides and snack booths. The guy kept insisting that you both should take a picture when the sun set. 
“Cotton candy!” Jungkook sprinted to the booth like a hungry kid, his laughter could be heard even as him getting far from where you were standing. 
You shook your head, smiling to yourself as you walked to his direction. 
“Pink, blue, or green?” 
“Blue, maybe?”
“Alright.” He grinned and paid the seller as they handed the blue cotton candy stick. “Why blue though?” 
“Dunno, just kinda matches your outfit.”
“Sweetheart, I’m wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt.” He giggled. 
Which should be a crime! Cause who even looks that good in a basic white t-shirt??? You thought to yourself. “Your jeans, I guess..?”
“If you say so.” He chuckled. “Wanna ride the ferris wheel?”
“Being in a such small space with you sounds dangerous.” 
“I’ll protect you, babe.” He winked. 
“The danger is you, babe.” You mocked. 
He smirked, clearly amused. “Well, at least I got you to call me babe, that’s a win for me.” 
“You’re anno— hmph!” He stuffed a ball of cotton candy in your mouth, laughing continuously at the sight. 
After wandering around for a while and finishing the cotton candy, Jungkook dragged you to the shooting game. You refused, saying how you never really win these kind of games, but knowing him, losing was never really his thing. You saw how big the main prize was and you know Jungkook, you knew his ego, you knew damn well that was what he was aiming. 
“If you’re aiming for that giant teddy bear, don’t. We can’t carry that thing around...”
“You can’t tell me what to do.” He didn’t listen and instead paid for the game tickets. 
“We can’t carry that in your motorcycle, that’s like another passenger!”
“Just watch me.” He smirked, already aiming with the toy gun. 
You rolled your eyes, there’s really no telling him on this. “Fine, whatever.” 
After just two shots, you hear him jump in celebration, fist in the air and the staff rang the bell for him winning the price. You were ready to complain, but the staff handed you a small frog plushie instead. You looked at Jungkook and saw his boyish grin, his eyes almost turned into crescents. You looked back at the plushie in your hands and couldn’t lie to yourself, it was very adorable. 
“You didn’t aim for the grand prize?”
“You told me not to.” He shrugged. “Plus, you like frogs, right?”
“Well…” 
“I wished I took a picture of your expression when they handed you the plushie.” He laughed, a soft blush decorating his cheeks. 
You finally agreed to ride the ferris wheel with him. The park was going to close in an hour anyway, and you thought why not, it wouldn’t hurt anyone to go for one ride. 
You sat across him, hugging the frog plushie on your lap. It was silent for the first few minutes, but it was comfortable, not awkward. You were just looking at the view from above and silently admiring it. 
“Did you have fun?” He asked. Suddenly your attention went back to him and his smile. 
“Well, yeah… I did.” You nodded. “Thanks.” 
“Don’t thank me, I had fun too.” He smiled. “Everything’s fun with you though so I may be biased…” 
You didn’t really know what to say to counter his words. You just smiled and went back to looking at the window. 
“Mind if I sit next to you?”
“Uh… sure. Just be careful, you might tilt the cart.” 
Jungkook carefully moved to sit next to you. He muttered a small “phew” as he sat down. “Wow, the view’s better here.” He said, looking straight at you. 
“What do you mean? How—” And then it clicked to you. “Oh my god… shut up!” You hit his arm, and he laughed. 
“Take my compliment for once!” 
“Never.” You stuck your tongue out. 
The ride soon came to an end. You remembered that you promised Jungkook to take a picture with the sunset, but out of nowhere it started to rain. Although it was just small drizzle, it’s hard to take picture and avoid getting soaked at the same time. You both ran to the nearest sheltered place, with Jungkook’s leather jacket covering both of you. 
You said your sorry about his now wet jacket, but the boy did not seem to be bothered, as you can see how bright and happy he was, just from running with you under the rain. You sighed, but an idea came to you as soon as you saw a photo booth machine, not far from where you were standing. 
“Do you… maybe wanna do that instead?”
“Photobooth?” He looked at you, as if he couldn’t believe your words. 
“Why? You don’t want to?”
“No! I want to!” He said, almost too quickly. “But it’s just weird that you suggest it. But it’s a good weird!” He chuckled. 
“I promised you a picture, so we’re getting a picture.” 
“Aww.” Jungkook pout his lips in a kissy way, teasing you. 
“Let’s go before I regret it.” You dragged him inside the booth. 
The first pose you playfully put peace signs behind Jungkook’s head, giving him bunny ears, while he only stuck out his tongue. The second one, Jungkook made a love sign with both of his hands, and you surprised him with a middle finger, which he yelled at you afterwards, but couldn’t really continue to complain as the countdown for the next photo were already starting. 
Since Jungkook spent at least three and a half seconds with his protest, you both were panicking for the last picture, running out of ideas. As the countdown stating two, he suddenly pulled you closer and leaned on your shoulder. The shutter flashed and the photo was taken. You were still in awe and couldn’t process what just happened. You only followed when you saw Jungkook making his way out from the booth to collect the picture. 
The guy giggled like a highschool boy, taking the printed photos, then giving one copy to you. You stared at the last picture, how genuine Jungkook’s smile when he leaned on your shoulder, while you had your eyes widened in surprise. You felt your face heating in embarrassment. 
“Ugh… can we just cut out the last picture?” 
“I was thinking the same thing, I’m putting it on my wallet!” He said, eyes still looking up and down on the set of photos. 
When you only looked at him in disbelief, he uttered a small “what?”, and laughed. 
Both of you ended up eating some cups of ramen in a nearby convenience store, as you wait for the rain to stop pouring. He took you home right after, insisting on waking you to your door. 
“Take care of little Kookie for me, yeah?” He said, pointing at your frog plushie, as you stopped at your unit’s front door. 
“Why is he named after you?” You chuckled. 
“I’m his father!” He pretended to be offended.
“Well, say bye to your papa now, little Kookie.” You waved the plushie’s small hand to him. 
Jungkook felt his heart somersault. He turned away for a second, covering his mouth. He cleared his throat. “Well, uh… thank you again, for today…”
“Yeah! Thank you too…” You chewed your inner lips, hugging your plushie close. 
“I uh…” He awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. “I just wanna let you know that what I said to you… about deciding whether you like me or not after the dates… I was just saying stuff. I don’t wanna pressure you into deciding your feelings for me or anything, I genuinely just wanna spend some time with you, and I’m thankful for your time.” 
You nodded, smiling at him. Your eyes locked with each other for a quick second. Your heart skipped a beat. Maybe it was the moonlight, or the lamp in front of your door that you recently just got replaced. Either way, you could see the stars in Jungkook’s eyes and his skin glowed, but so did his lips. They were practically sparkling and glossy, you wondered if he had put any lip balm over it. For a moment, your attention stopped at his lips, just wondering how it would feel against yours. Would it be soft? Would you feel the cold metal of his lip piercing against your skin? 
The man in front of you seemed to be lost in his thoughts as well. You swore you saw his eyes darted to your lips for a quick glance, before coming back to your eyes. Just when he leaned down a bit to your height level… 
You froze. What was that? You felt your stomach turned, you couldn’t exactly point out whether it was due to nervousness, or if you were simply just afraid. You took a step back and your back almost hit the front door.
“You should head back, it could rain again soon…” You said, looking away. 
“Oh.” There was disappointment in his voice. “Okay then… bye.” He waved to you awkwardly and walked away. 
As you see his figure walking away, you went inside your apartment and closed the door behind you. Sitting down on your sofa, you put your hand over your chest. Funny how your heart was still beating so fast. You were panicking, feeling everything all at once. Nervousness, excitement, curiosity, but mostly fright. The unknown territory was making you scared. The new feelings you were feeling, you didn’t even know if it would be okay to feel it. 
Still laying down on your sofa, you took your phone and dialed your best friend. 
“You called.” You heard Yoongi’s voice from the other line. 
“Why are you saying it like that.” 
“You only call when you’re stressing over something, otherwise, you only text.” 
You hate how smart and observant your friend was sometimes. “I think I feel something for Jungkook.” 
“Isn’t that… I don’t know, good?” 
“I don’t know… it just hit me like a truck, okay? One minute I wanna punch that stupid grin out of his face, the next thing I know, his lips looked so shiny and he got me wondering if his piercings would feel cold against my lips.” 
“Okay, wow.” Yoongi said in amusement. “Care to elaborate?”
“What if I’m just… super horny or something? I mean I haven’t been with anyone for like god knows how long now, and I could just be desperate and Jungkook is good looking, extremely good looking may I add, and—“
“Okay, okay… Y/N, pause for a second.” Yoongi sighed. “So you think you might be just horny and you feel bad for it?”
“Of course I feel bad! I don’t wanna use Jungkook like that! Just because he has this stupid crush on me, doesn’t mean I can do whatever I want with him. I’m not that kind of person!” You exclaimed, the volume of your voice getting slightly higher. 
“Tell me, how do you feel after the dates? Did you enjoy it?”
“Well yeah, I had a great time actually. I didn’t expect Jungkook to be that caring, and he’s actually very good at initiating conversation…” You wondered what else you could point out. 
“During that time, did Jungkook mention or do anything sexual?” 
“N-no! Of course not! Yoongi, do you take me as the fuck-on-the-first-date kind of person???” You said, slightly offended.
“So you like him.” He stated casually. 
“I’m sorry?”
“You caught feelings. Just admit that Jungkook has officially win you over.”
“I… what…” 
“I knew it. I shouldn’t have let you go on those dates, now both of you are gonna be so gross when we hang out...” You heard your friend groaned. 
“I like him?” You asked, more to yourself rather than to your best friend. 
“Maybe you should call Jungkook instead and tell him.”
You widened your eyes in horror. “No way, that guy only has a crush on me, it’s more of a hyperfixation, like I’m his girl of the month or something. I’m sure it’s not like how you think it is.”
“You should ask him yourself instead of making assumptions, just saying. And you know…” Yoongi paused for a second before continuing. “I think that kid is actually a good person, despite how dumb and annoying he looks.” When he got no respond from you, he spoke again. “Alright, I’ll leave you with your thoughts, just make sure you’ll talk with him about this, okay? Take care, Y/N.” 
Yoongi hang up the call while you were still sitting down, expression blank, staring at the wall in front of you. 
Jungkook didn’t text you at all after the date. Not like you text each other regularly, but you lowkey expected him to after. You wanted to call him, or at least text him. You wanted to say how you feel but you were again, scared. You began to think if you were reading it wrong. He was popular, you wondered if he just acted like that to everyone, if you were catching feelings, while he just wanted to hang out and have a bit of fun. After all, he never really explicitly said that he had feelings for you, all you knew that he admitted his giant crush for you while being under the influence of alcohol. 
You never hear from Jungkook again until the next week. Hoseok invited you all to game night over his place. You wanted so badly to bail and fake being sick, but Yoongi picked you up, basically forcing you to come and face your problem like an actual adult.
With all these new and mixed emotions that you were still getting used to, the thought of seeing Jungkook in person sounded so overwhelming. He would probably just act like how he usually would, because of course, why wouldn’t he. After all you were the one who suddenly took a weird turn.
“Finally!” Hoseok shouted, as he opened the door for both of you and Yoongi. 
“Come on, switch with Namjoon, he sucks!” Jin spoke while his eyes still not leaving the TV screen and his fingers loud against the controller. 
They were playing Tekken 8 on Hoseok’s Playstation. You saw how Namjoon was basically getting his ass kicked, playing as a Panda character, while Jin quickly leading himself towards victory using the character that coincidentally has the same name as him. 
Jin Kazama wins. 
The oldest one screamed happily, while Namjoon’s protests and excuses could be heard very loudly. Everyone laughed at the two, so it was easy to spot the one who didn’t laugh as much, whose expression didn’t hold that much excitement, sitting on the edge of the sofa just playing with his phone instead. 
“Y/N, come on!” Jin patted the on the carpet to the now empty seat next to him, since Namjoon already excused himself to get more popsicles from the fridge. 
You followed and sat down next to Jin on the carpet, which was directly in front of Jungkook, who was slouching on the couch. 
Sitting down quietly, you took the controller and beginning to scroll through the rooster of characters. You chose the character named Lili, while Jin stayed with his current main. 
When you beat Jin and the sound of your friends cheering loudly was heard, you began to feel a little bit relaxed, at the very least you could forget for a moment about your situation with Jungkook. That was until, you heard Yoongi spoke. 
“Jungkook, your turn.” 
You immediately turned your head towards your best friend, eyeing him straight. How could he betray you like this was beyond you. 
“Nah, you play I’m not really in the mood.” He rejected politely.
Your eyes went back to the screen because you refuse to see Jungkook’s expression. You pretended to busy yourself pressing the dpad button up and down on the character choices. 
“This is the first time I’ve ever heard Jungkook refusing a match.” Taehyung said while munching on his potato chips. 
“Yeah, that’s so unlike you, man!” Hobi joined. “Come on, we all know you’re good, but Y/N doesn’t know that yet!” He added. 
A small groan came out from Jungkook’s mouth before he stood up, and once again everyone cheered. Jin stood to switch seats with him. The man locked his eyes with you once, before sitting down and picking up the controller in his hand. He didn’t take too long picking a character. His choice landed on a boxer character. 
The match went quietly with only the sound of the video game from the speaker. Your friends behind you somehow went silent as well, and the atmosphere in the room became very tense. 
“Is it just me or it kinda feels like they’re actually fighting with each other…” Jin whispered to Hoseok who was sitting next to him. Hoseok only signaled with his hand shaking next to his neck to cut it out, while the rest only widened their eyes and try their best not to make any comment. 
You pretended like you did not hear any of it and kept mashing the controller buttons. The milliseconds of your attention being taken away from the game gave your opponent a leaway to break your combo and finally beating down your character. 
Steve Fox wins. 
“All right, Yoongi you switch with me, I’m gonna go get some air.” You excused yourself and headed to the balcony, closing the door behind you. 
Technically it was not a lie. It just got a bit stuffy with eight people inside an apartment living room. Especially when the guy you suddenly had feelings for was in the equation as well. 
You searched your back pocket for your pod and cursed silently when it was nowhere inside your jeans pocket. 
“Looking for your vape?” Jungkook entered the balcony uninvited, wiggling your small disposable vape pod in front of you. But when you were about to take it from him, he withdrew his hand. “I thought you’ve stopped.”
“I did. I only do it when I’m nervous. That’s why it’s a disposable.” You said weakly. 
“I noticed.” He replied in a monotone, now pocketing the pod inside his pants, refusing to give it to you. 
“You smoke, don’t act all high.” You retorted. 
“Well, have you seen me smoke these past few weeks?” 
“No, actually… yeah, now that I think of it, you didn’t even smoke once when we went out—“ You stopped when the memories of your date went through your head. “Jungkook, about that…” You bit your lips, nervously facing him. 
He also turned his body to your direction, looking at you directly. “I’m sorry.” He suddenly said. 
“Huh? For what?” 
“I feel like I’ve pressured you into something you don’t actually want. I’ve been thinking and re-thinking about it the past few days and it drives me crazy. I may have feelings for you, but that doesn’t give me the right to drag you along to do stuff with me just because you enjoyed spending time with me as a friend.”
“Wait, Jungkook, I don’t feel that way!”
“I know! That’s why I apologize—“
“No! I mean, I didn’t feel like you dragged me along or anything. I genuinely enjoyed our date and…” You looked away, taking a deep breath before continuing. “If I’m not reading it wrong, you’re saying you truly have feelings for me?” 
“Isn’t that obvious already?” 
“Well, I thought I was just your girl obsession of the week or something… You have celebrity crushes left and right, okay?! Hell, you even had a crush on Namjoon at one point!!!” 
“The Namjoon crush was a joke. Man just got some nice thighs and I was just admiring it.” He defended. 
You took another deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry as well… the emotions were all just come clashing to me at once and I just told you to go home instead of dealing with it.” 
“But, you rejected my kiss...” He said with a weak voice, you almost didn’t catch it. 
“Cause I haven’t figured out what I want yet. I thought I was just so touch deprived that your lips looked inviting that day.” You admitted while cursing yourself secretly inside your mind. That was lowkey embarrassing. 
“Try being me, your lips look inviting every single day!” He exclaimed, his mood now seemed to be improving. 
“Be serious.” You hit his sides. He muttered an “ow” but you doubted it even hurt the slightest bit. 
“So now you’ve figured out what you want?” His doe eyes looking at you directly. 
“I’m getting there… I guess.” You broke the eye contact, it was a bit too much for you and suddenly you felt a bit sweaty. “But I think I like you too.” 
“Say that again while looking at me.” 
“Hell no.” You suddenly covered your face with both of your hands. 
“Please?” He grabbed your wrists, softly trying to prey open your hands. “I just want to have the visual memory of it captured in my brain.”
When you finally loosened your grip, he took his chance and held both of your hands in his. He grabbed them for a few seconds, intertwining his fingers with yours, before letting them go. He traced his fingers along your right wrist where you wore the bracelet that he got you, the one he got matching with his, and then moved his hands up to cup your face. The entire time he did all that, you could actually feel the shakiness in his hands, and it melted your heart. 
“Can I?”
You nodded and he did not waste any second before dipping in and closing the gap between you. 
Oh boy you were right, his piercings did feel cold against your lips, but that was only for a quick second before everything felt warm and soft, and your mind became blurry. You were moving your lips against his carefully, afraid to accidentally hurt him by his piercing, but instead earned a small bite on your bottom lip from Jungkook. You gasped and pulled away, hitting his chest. Since when were you in his embrace? That you did not know. 
“We gotta head back now or they’ll get suspicious.”
He giggled and kissed your forehead. “They’re already suspicious, babe.” 
“Still, we gotta head back…”
“You guys done making out?! We’re hungry!!!” You heard Jimin shouted from inside the apartment. 
Jungkook and you looked at each other with widened eyes, before laughing in unison. He pecked you on the lips one more time before running back inside with you, holding hands. 
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Thank you for reading! 🌸
1K notes · View notes
ebodebo · 5 months
Text
summary: basically ghost and the reader are in a no-strings-attached, friends-with-benefits, type of situation, but the reader wants it to be a real relationship. ghost says no and the reader is like okay that's fine byeeee and the reader flirts with a guy at a bar and ghost gets just a little bit jealous.
pairing: simon "ghost" riley x f!reader
a/n: listen, i know..tale as old as time, but if it ain't broke don't fix it! also this is longer than i intended it to be, but i hope you like it regardless! anyways, feel free to send asks!
word count: 2.3k+
18+ Content
wanna be on my taglist ? fill out this form !
NSFW CONTENT
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❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。
Bang Bang Bar
Ghost and you were laying in his bed, your leg draped over his, as you drew circles with your pointer finger on his bare chest.
"What're you thinkin' about?" He uttered, his voice sounding deep and grave. "Nothing." You quickly reply. He cocks his brow at your hasty reply and wraps his hands around your waist, and pulls you onto him, so you are straddling his torso.
"What's goin' on?" He asks softly. 
You tug your bottom lip with your top teeth. "I was thinking.." You pause before continuing. "I don't want to do this anymore." 
He tilts his head slightly. "Do what?"
"This." You gesture to both of your naked bodies. "Well..wait..not the sex part. I want to do that again." Ghost lets out a gruff laugh. "I mean, I don't want it to be casual." You declare in an earnest tone. "I want us to be a thing."
"We agreed on-" Ghost begins.
"I know what we agreed on." You breathe out. "I was just kind of hoping the sentients have changed?" Your curious eyes stare at him.
He lets out a breath before talking. "I told you. I don't date." Ghost says.
"I know, but don't all guys say that?" You remark.
"I'm serious. I don't."
"Even if-."
"No." He interrupts, his voice sounding rougher than usual. "I don't date." He continues. "This is all I can offer you." 
You stare at him briefly before slowly scooting yourself off his torso and moving to get off the bed, grabbing your clothes that lay on the floor. "I understand that you don't want a relationship." You slide your jeans on. "But, I can't keep pretending that’s what I want too."
You reach for your shoes and begin putting them on. As you look up, Ghost's gaze meets yours. "What?" You question. He shakes his head and diverts his attention from you.
Once you slide your shoes on, you walk over to the door and say goodbye to Ghost and to that mess of a situation. 
❀・。.。* ❀ *。.。·* ❀ *·。.。* ❀ *·。.。* ❀ *。.
It had been about a week since you had essentially ended your "situation-thing" with Ghost. Not seeing him often felt weird, but you knew you couldn't keep pretending you didn't have genuine feelings for him. 
You were in the break room, preparing a fresh cup of coffee.
"Jesus. You're the reason we never have any sugar." Gaz scrutinizes as he strolls over to you. 
"Don't be mean, Gaz." You laugh as his eyes widen at the six empty sugar packets beside your cup.
"I'm being honest." His eyes continue to stare at the packets. "That is an insane amount of sugar."
"I've seen how much creamer you put in yours." You raise your brow. He throws his hands up. "You got me there." You smile and stir your coffee.
"Also, the guys and I are going to that bar downtown tonight. Would you want to come?" He questions as he grabs a mug from the cabinet above your head.
"The one with the stupid name?" You giggle as you take a sip of the hot liquid. 
He rolls his eyes. "Hey, take that back. It is not stupid." He states, his face plastered with seriousness. 
"For Godsake, it's called Bang Bang Bar." You cackle as you continue. "It sounds like a strip club, not a bar."
"Will you please just come? I hate going with Soap and Ghost alone." He grabs the coffee and fills up his mug. "Soap makes fun of me for my drink order, and Ghost makes no effort to stop him." 
You pause your drinking, trying not to sound too intrigued. "Ghost is going?" Gaz walks over to the fridge and grabs the creamer. "Ya." You chew your lip, trying to ease your thoughts. "What about Price?" You try to change subjects. "No. Price said he had paperwork to do. I swear that man is a workaholic." You smile. 
You were going to say no to his offer, but you decided you needed to get out of your head, even if it's just for a bit. "I suppose I can grace you boys with my presence." He chuckles as he pours his creamer. 
"Don't be too flattered. I want to see you in that short black dress you wear." He jokes. You lightly hit his bicep causing him to spill some creamer. "Hey, You made me spill creamer." He dramatically whines. 
"You didn't need it all anyways." You cheekily smile as you grab your mug and head towards the door, leaving Gaz to clean up the spilled creamer. 
❀・。.。* ❀ *。.。·* ❀ *·。.。* ❀ *·。.。* ❀ *。.
You felt the cold air brush your legs, lifting your dress slightly as you stepped outside of your car to head towards the bar. You walked down the paved sidewalk and eventually saw the flashy sign with the bar's name in the middle. You rolled your eyes as you pushed the door open.
The bar was more packed than usual, but after scanning the area for a minute, you spotted Gaz, flailing his arms at you. You stepped through a cluster of people and made your way to the guys, Ghost nowhere to be seen.
"Hey." Gaz and Soap say simultaneously as you sit next to Gaz in the booth. You can't explain why but you feel disappointed that Ghost isn't there. You shouldn't, but you do. 
"What do you want to drink?" Soap questions, breaking your train of thought. "Uh..just a beer is fine. Thanks." You lightly smile. 
After Soap grabs you a beer, you all make light conversation. Although, you mind still wonders where Ghost is. Your question is answered shortly as you see him enter through the front door and wander to your booth. Your eyes lock briefly before he directs his attention to Soap and Gaz.
"Glad you could make it." Gaz proclaims, and Soap pats Ghost on the shoulder. "Hey, Ghost." You mutter to Ghost. He looks over at you and nods to you.
The light conversation continues, mostly between Soap and Gaz. You are trying your best not to look at Ghost, and you sense he is doing the same. You feel awkwardness wash over you for the millionth time that week. "I'll be right back." You say as you stand up from the booth heading towards the bar. 
You order yourself another drink, something to ease the nerves running through your veins. "Nice choice." You hear a male voice approach you. You look up to see an attractive man standing near you. "Mind if I sit?" You nod to him. "So, why is someone as pretty as you sitting by yourself?" You lightly laugh at his corny line. "I'm here with friends." You reach for your drink. 
"Oh. Sad to hear that." He whispers. "Why's that?" You cock your head. "I suppose you can't leave your friends for too long. I would like to continue this." He smiles. "They can keep themselves company for a bit." You smile back, bringing your drink to your lips.
You chat with the mystery man for a little bit, after texting Gaz, telling him you were, in fact, not kidnapped and just chatting with a guy. During the conversation, you realize you both have things in common, and it doesn't hurt he's pretty nice to look at. 
As you were talking, laughing, and shamelessly flirting with the man, he noticed a strand of your hair fall in front of your eyes. He gently raised his hand to brush the strand out of your face. Your face pinkens at his actions. "You are so beautiful." He whispers. 
Although he was spewing such kind words, your attention drifts to your phone. A new message has popped up. It's from Ghost.
Ghost: Come outside.
"I'm sorry. Could you excuse me for a second?" You quickly ask. "Sure. I'll be here." You stand up from the bar and reach the front door, pushing it open.
You are immediately met with the cold air. You don't see him right when you step out, so you go around the corner to the little alleyway and see him leaning against the brick of the building, smoking. "What's going on?" You question as you prop yourself on the same wall. 
He remains silent. His eyes wander down your body, taking in the tight dress that hugs your figure. "Ghost." He snaps his head up to meet your eyes. 
"He's not your usual type." He mutters. You give him a confused expression. "What?" You say as your head tilts to the side. "That guy at the bar." He takes a puff of his cigarette. "He's not what you usually go for."
"Why do you care?" You accuse. "I don't." He insists. "Then why are you so interested in my boyfriend?" Ghost's head instantaneously lifts, his eyes narrowing. "Boyfriend?" You stare back at him. "No. I was just...I don't know why I said that." He releases a deep breath. "Thank Christ." He takes a final drag of the cigarette before throwing it on the ground.
Now, you are the one narrowing your eyes at him. "Why do you say that?" Your eyes widen. "Were you jealous?"
"No." He speedily says.
"I think you were."
"I was not jealous."
"Fine then. Since you have nothing important to talk about, I think I'll just go back-" He instantly grabs your waist and guides you onto the wall so his body is pressing against yours. Your breath hitches at his actions. 
You both stand there in silence, your breathing becoming increasingly faster. "What are you doing?" You finally whisper. 
He remains silent and positions his face closer to you so your lips are only mere inches away. He sees the heat flicker between your eyes and roughly presses his lips into yours as one of his hands comes to grasp your hair, which elicits a moan from you, causing him to groan. 
His other hand slips to cup your ass, pressing your body closer to his so you feel his hardening cock. You pull back slightly, and his mouth instantly connects with your neck. "Tell me." You mumble through breaths. "Tell you what?" He mutters into your neck as he leaves sloppy, wet kisses on you. "Tell me you were jealous." You finally say.
"Of course, I was fucking jealous." He grits, as he drags his tongue across your jaw. "So, you only want me when someone else does?" You whisper. He quickly drops both of his hands and steps away. "Is that what you think?" You shift nervously. "What else am I supposed to think? I mean, you haven't talked to me in a week, and the one time you do is because I was with another guy."
"I thought.." He wipes his hand across his face. "I thought you deserved better than me. That's why I said no." He confesses. "You're fucking perfect. Too perfect for me." He whispers. "It killed me not to talk to you, but I just thought it would.." You step closer to him. "Thought it would what?" He looks up at you. "I thought it would force me to get over you." 
"Did it work?" You murmur. "No." He says. "I could never get over you." Sincerity coated his voice. You step towards him and gently grab his hand. "Sorry, I'm just a fucking idiot." He pauses as he rubs the palm of your hand with his finger. "I understand if you don't want-" You catch him by surprise when you smash your lips onto his, your fingers thread through his light hair, slightly tugging on it. 
"I'll forgive your idiocy.." You pant in between kisses. "If you make me come.."
"I've made you come five times in one night. This is no.."
"Out here."
His eyes slightly widen as he brings one of his hands to tug on your hair, causing a quiet moan to escape. "You minx." He replies.
In hindsight, this was quite a secluded alleyway, but it was still out in the open, meaning if anyone decided to turn the corner, they would see you both.
Ghost brings his hand, which isn't in your hair, to your breast, gently massaging and palming it, causing you to whine into his mouth. He slipped his other hand under your short dress so that he could graze your wet cunt through your underwear.
You rocked yourself on his fingers, seeking more friction. "More." You plead. "Ya?" He questions, his voice dripping with arousal. You nod your head quickly as he slips one finger under your panties. "Better.." He connects his lips with yours as he pushes a single finger into you. "Christ, you're so fuckin' tight.." He whispers into your mouth.
"I can't fit anymore." You moan as he begins sliding his middle finger into you.
"We'll make em' fit." He manages to fit the two fingers in you and begins pumping in and out of you. "Fuck, Ghost." You whimper, as he grazes your clit. "You feel so fuckin' good, baby.." He grunts out as his fingers move in and out, faster and faster.
You can feel yourself tightening, signaling your peak nearing. "Ghost...I...Fuck I'm so close." He drags his other hand up your dress so he can graze your bare nipple. "I can feel you tightening..." He slightly rolls your nipple in between his fingers. "Come." He commands.
That one motion causes you to climax. Your legs are shaking, and your pulse is racing. He holds you up by your waist until your orgasm subsides. 
He cheekily smiles as he brings his fingers covered in your arousal to his mouth and sucks them clean. "Am I forgiven now?"
"I guess.." You continue. "Although I feel like it took you a little long to get me to come.." He chuckles. "Next time, I'll get three in you."
You laugh as you check your phone. "Fuck. The guys called me so many times. They must think something bad happened. We should probably leave." Ghost nods as you both walk down the alleyway.
"You think we should tell em'." Ghost chirps.
"Tell them what?" You question.
"That we're a thing now." He turns his head to face you as his lip curves slightly.
"Are we? Since when?” You cock your head.
"Since now." He grabs your hand and interlocks your fingers as you turn the corner out of the alleyway. 
❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。
taglist: @yuenity @fivenightsatnattys @callsign-artemis @minihotdog @theloneshadow24 @harpsinfinity @bleached-punk
also let's pretend mystery bar guy found a nice lady and they lived happily ever after in alaska or something.
479 notes · View notes
ode2rin · 1 year
Text
by design, you became mine
pairing. mikage reo x gn!reader
genre. fluff & highschool or teenage romance !
warnings/content. 3k+ wc | profanity | mentions of food | timeline is set before blue lock ! | reo and reader is in their sophomore year in highschool | reader is a bit mean to reo (not in an extreme way, just in a normal teenager-y way) and reo is a sore loser in love | and this is me trying the grumpy x sunshine (obv reo) trope ! | half-assed proofread btw | some parts might be ooc reo but it's fine hehe
summary: reo asks you to tutor him after failing an exam in which he oddly looks happy about
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“the teacher said i need to be tutored,” a voice tinged with amusement reached your ears.
looking up, you saw reo mikage standing right in front of you, his million-dollar smile lighting up his face, as he held out a math test paper marked with a big, bleeding red ‘F.’
and for someone who had just allegedly received the lowest score possible on such an important exam, he was definitely grinning a little too much.
“and why should that concern me?” you shot back, hoping to hide your indifference. 
your annoyance seeped into your words, not meant to sound rude, but you craved some peace during your lunch break. hunger gnawed at your stomach, and this interruption wasn't helping.
he shrugged casually, as if the situation were no big deal. if you had received such a grade, you would not be smiling right now, let alone treat this situation nonchalantly. “well, the teacher did mention i could ask anyone. and since you're undoubtedly one of the smartest in the class, it only makes sense to choose you, right?”
with sarcasm making its way to your tongue and translating to your voice, you retorted, “oh, is that so? do you find me worthy of your esteemed company, young master?”
as the son and sole heir of the mikage corp, reo was trained to be an exceptional conversationalist, and there had been only a few instances when he couldn't form a response right away. this one, however, might be the longest he got a cat to get his tongue. reo feels like he’s having a heartburn from your remark, it’s pathetic.
ever so impatient, you, who only wanted to get back to your lunch, beat him to a reply, saying, “what if i refuse?”
quickly recovering from the unexpected turn of events, reo let out a dramatic gasp, “do you not care about my future? what if i don't graduate on time and can't get a job?”
that must be the most bullshit reason you've ever heard from the heir of a business tycoon. you're pretty sure his future is much clearer than any blue sky. but sure, you can play along.
“fine.”
“really?” 
sensing an out-of-place joy in his tone, you raised a brow. was he that thrilled to be tutored?
“i'm sure. now, can i return to my lunch?”
reo's eyes widened a bit as he realized that he was interrupting your meal. hurriedly, he bid you goodbye with a smile.
even with your sarcastic retorts, he walked away, still smiling. his grin was a telltale sign of how much trouble you had just signed up for. 
stupid reo and his stupid, handsome smile.
smiling to yourself, you couldn't help but wonder how he managed to receive such a mark in the first place. you had known him since freshman year (it’s hard not to know him), and you knew that the mikage heir was a born genius. so, could this be a mishap? probably. oh well, he couldn't be so difficult to teach.
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you’re wrong.
reo mikage is the worst fucking student.
not only does he seem uninterested in your explanations, completely disregarding all the equations you painstakingly lay out for him, but he also has the audacity to stare at you the entire time.
with that shit-eating grin that never leaves his face.
sure, he's cute, but right now, he's nothing more than a damn thorn in your side.
“is there something on my face that bothers you this much, or do you simply have the attention span of a goldfish?” you said, frustration evident in your tone.
“you're just a bad teacher, i think,” he quips, smugness dripping from his words.
“and you're the worst student, i'm sure,” you fire back, refusing to let him have the upper hand.
“well, how about you give me an incentive?” reo suddenly exclaims, his excitement evident in his sparkling purple eyes.
“and now you're asking for more as if you're not already taking up too much of my time?” you reply sarcastically, but your words carry no venom.
“come on! if i get a high mark on the next exam, you'll give me your number!” he eagerly proposes, his enthusiasm contagious.
do all rich kids have the tendency to want mundane things? 
“what are you going to do with my number?”
“networking! it's a thing in my world. expanding social circles and all that,” he explains, trying his best to come up with excuses that sound remotely plausible.
reo, well aware of the fact that he can only fabricate bullshit excuses in your presence, hopes he's not being too obvious. unfortunately for him, you see right through it, but it doesn't bother you all that much.
“better show me that A+ then,” you challenge, your expectations clear.
oh, it’s on. he’s going to ace that exam, one way or another. not that it’s actually hard.
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mikage: hello y/n! mikage: do you have some notes from the discussion from yesterday? mikage: hello?
so much for networking.
mikage: and they finally read my messages! the crowd cheers!
what led to this moment is, once again, reo mikage standing in front of you, grinning from ear to ear, eagerly holding out an exam paper marked with what seems to be the biggest A+ you've ever seen.
that was three days ago, and sure enough, he got the incentive he asked for. and in those days, you damn sure experienced the ‘networking’ he speaks of with how often he texts you.
you: yeah, let me just take pictures of it to send you. mikage: NO you: ??? are you yelling at me mikage: i mean no, don’t take pictures of it. i’m a visual learner. i have to see your notes in person.
is he fucking serious right now?
you: and what do you suggest we do about that? it’s saturday, we won’t see each other until monday, genius. mikage: how about i’ll come to your house? you: how about you try asking nagi for notes instead?
after sending your last message, you put your phone down despite it continuously buzzing, signaling reo's discontent with your suggestion. you did a commendable job of ignoring him until he grew tired of sending unread messages and decided to call you instead.
“what?” you answered, picking up his persistent call.
“the probability of nagi having notes is lower than the probability of cows flying ten years from now!” he exclaimed, and begrudgingly, you admit he sure does have a point in that.
sighing into the phone, you reply, “you can't come here, it's a bit busy.”
“we'll meet up then! i can pick you up?” reo suggests eagerly. the ‘q’ in reo mikage sure does stand for ‘quitter’. 
“do you text and call everyone in your networking circle this much?” you ask, slightly amused.
“what do you mean? we're friends!” he protests.
“did i miss a few pages, young master, or did you get hit in the head with a soccer ball and become a bit delusional?” you tease, unable to resist.
“how about you stop being mean to me?” you could almost hear the pout and the mock hurt in his voice.
you can't, not when you get cute reactions from him in return.
you can't help but find his cute reactions entertaining, and you smile at the phone, even though he can't see it.
“i'll think about it,” you concede.
“okay, you have enough time to think about it while i'm on my way to you! bye, see you in a bit,” he says cheerfully before hanging up.
looking at the phone, you wonder when exactly you agreed to this.
stupid reo and his stupid persistence.
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reo is once again in front of you, a scene that has become quite familiar over the course of your friendship.
however, this time you find yourselves in a cozy cafe near your house instead of on the school premises. he’s sitting in front of you, skimming through your notes, probably visually learning, while you sip on the drink he insisted on ordering for you. you gave in, because reo is not a quitter of any sorts. fighting him on the bill is futile and definitely a waste of effort. 
“i’ll pay you back,” you state firmly.
“i asked you here, so i should pay,” reo insists.
“i’ll feel bad.”
“if that’s the case, i guess you can treat me next time?” he suggests with a playful smile.
“you practically dragged me here, and you're already talking about a ‘next time’? you're not being slick, reo mikage,” you retort, not letting him get away with his charm.
“a man could try…” he whispers, hiding his face behind your notes, although you can see his neck turning red.
shaking your head, you shift your attention to the busy street outside the cafe. however, your ears catch the faint hum of a familiar song coming from reo. you know that song — it has been stuck in your head since a famous girl group released their album.
unable to contain your amusement, you chuckle, causing reo to look at you with curious eyes.
still smiling brightly, you remark, “didn’t know you're a fan too,” and laugh once more.
reo, on the other hand, feels starstruck.
he made you laugh for the first time, and was it the prettiest sound he ever heard? it sure is. it feels as if his heart beats in harmony with the rhythm of your laughter. it takes his breath away and brings him back to the present, all at once. it's intoxicating in the best possible way.
once he gets home, he's going to memorize the discography of this girl group. nothing will stop him. he will hum every single one of their songs in your presence.
reo would do that and even more if it means hearing you laugh again. this shouldn't be the last time he gets to experience it.
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you had fun with reo last saturday. 
but right now? you sure don’t.
he’s avoiding you, like a fucking plague. and much to your chagrin, you miss having him around, despite his annoying antics. all with his stupid excuses and stupid grins.
he’s physically avoiding you, but you've noticed him stealing glances at you multiple times during this boring history class, his guilty expression not going unnoticed. it's time to put an end to this charade once and for all.
as soon as the bell rings, you quickly stand up and make your way towards reo before he can leave the classroom. looking around to ensure you're alone, you confront him.
“what’s wrong with you?” you demand.
“what do you mean?” reo feigns innocence.
“you’re avoiding me. you did something, didn’t you? did you spill something on the notes i lent you and you can't bring yourself to tell me?” you accuse, trying to get to the bottom of his strange behavior.
reo wishes it was just that. but it wasn't. it was much worse, to the point that even seishiro nagi called him out on it. and seishiro nagi? a man who couldn't care less about anyone because it's a hassle, calling someone out? you know you messed up if he does.
and reo believes he did.
“you're smiling at your phone too much, ‘s creeping me out,” nagi remarked, looming over reo’s phone.
reo shrugged, trying to hide his excitement. “stop being a hater, nagi.”
curiosity piqued, nagi caught a glimpse of your contact number on the screen. “oh? you finally made a move? about time.”
“i didn’t... they're tutoring me,” reo replied, a hint of sheepishness in his voice.
nagi raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “huh? for?”
“uh, i failed a math exam.”
“you?” nagi chuckled, finding the situation rather amusing. 
“okay, fine, the test paper wasn't mine or anyone’s.”
“normally, i won't give a damn, but tell me about it,” nagi said, genuinely interested.
it was an understatement to say that nagi was borderline amused after hearing reo's story, so amused that he had to unintentionally slap reo with the truth.
“basically, you tricked them. should’ve just said that.”
it's safe to assume that nagi's words had struck their way into reo's mind all throughout that day until now.
once again, and perhaps for the last time, reo stood in front of you. but this time, there was no smile on his lips nor a glint in his big purple eyes. he took a deep breath, gathering the courage to confess.
“no, i didn't spill anything on your notes. but i did something to you,” reo admitted, his voice trailing off. seeing your raised eyebrow, he continued, “i tricked you.”
“what?”
"i didn't fail any exam. i didn't need tutoring. no teacher told me to approach anyone. the test paper i showed you wasn't mine. i wasted your time, and i..." reo's voice faltered, barely above a whisper, “... tricked you, because i didn't know how to approach you after having liked you since first year.”
reo panned his eyes to the floor, unable to meet your gaze while his heart sank.
he hasn’t even started yet it's done. he should've come clean. he should've just told you he liked you since freshman year. he should've just asked for your number like a proper man. but he was so fucking shy, unbearable to think of being rejected by you. he could only think of coaxing you to talk to him.
and now his own foolishness was paying the price.
it's over. you and him are done for. he's not going to hear your laughter anymore. he won't ever receive a sarcastic retort again. all those moments of bliss, gone —
“i kinda know.”
what?
reo's eyes widened, and he lifted his gaze to meet yours. how?
“did you forget that the teacher congratulated the class for having good results on the exam you showed me? no one got a score below B+, reo. so imagine my surprise when you came, interrupting my lunch, showing me a paper with an f mark claiming you flunked it.”
god damn it, reo mikage.
it's either you're joking or reo just made the most foolish mistake known to mankind. and none of the former is evident in your face. 
he should really pay attention in class, not on your side profile from where he sits across you. 
a grave grave mistake. can the ground swallow him whole? or can someone shoot him —
no, actually, wait a damn minute.
it was as if all the clogs in reo's brain got a huge power-up as he realized something so spectacular.
“then why did you not say anything?”
you... from the start, could've just refused him. if you knew the entire time. so why did you agree to tutor him in the first place? 
perhaps…? no, reo didn't want to get his hopes up.
he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his nervousness evident in his fidgeting. it was as if he had been caught in a whirlwind of emotions, trying to make sense of it all. the weight of anticipation hung in the air as he waited for your response, his heart pounding in his chest.
and then, you smiled.
you and your stupidly bright smile that feels like a ray of light on a freezing cold skin that reo is having right now.
he really did not want to get his hopes up, but how in the hell would he do that when you just smiled at his question?
“what does that smile mean?”
“well, it means that maybe you're not the only scheming lovesick fool here, pretty boy.”
oh.
oh.
you knew it all along that he was scheming his way into your heart.
you knew the entire time.
and you let him.
what the fuck. reo was having a heartburn, literally, figuratively, and madly so. all because of you. 
reo snapped out of his thoughts when you waved a hand in his face, vying for his attention. you spoke, “is this everything you’re guilty about? i thought it was something grave. if you told me you spilled something on my notes, i would have started swinging at you, actually.” your laughter filled the room, lightening the tension.
the second time reo made you laugh was because of a scheme that he expected would end whatever beautiful thing you had between you two. not that he’s complaining.
“so you like me back?” reo finally gathered the courage to ask, his voice tinged with hope.
“if we get some food right now, i might answer that coherently. scheming or not, you really do have the habit of interrupting my lunch,” you playfully replied.
“i’d buy you the whole cafeteria if you answer me right now,” reo declared, a touch of desperation in his voice.
the ‘o’ in reo mikage sure stands for ‘overspending’, you’re convinced.
giving in to his request, you took three steps closer to him, barely a foot distance between you. softly, you declared, “yes, reo mikage, i like you too. but i must say, you, making me starve right now, is reducing your chances of being my actual boyfriend.”
“let’s get you some food.” reo said, holding your hand and leading you out of the room like he was on a mission. amused by his sudden swift pace, you let out a laugh.
and suddenly, all tension left reo’s body. his heart once again beat at a normal rhythm. that’s the third time reo made you laugh. surely, it’s one of many more to come.
a minute after walking side by side, you broke the serene silence surrounding you. “not gonna lie, the networking excuse is kind of funny.”
“but it worked. a win is a win,” reo smugly said, showing you your intertwined hands. “see? a win.”
you shook your head at his remarks. your stupid reo and his stupid scheme.
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note. hello lovely ppl ! thanks for keeping up w me this far and for following me! as a thanks, here’s a reo fic since i’m missing him so much and emma has been feeding me ideas abt him <3 this is actually the longest i’ve written (i’m so normal abt reo i swear), hope you like it! (btw it goes without saying that this fic, is in fact, another TS inspired hehe love lots!)
𓆩♡𓆪 for one of the best people i met here, @saetorinrin
1K notes · View notes
yournameloveskpop · 23 days
Text
Oblivious. . .
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Paring: Yeonjun x Oblivious Reader
Warning: none
Style: fluff, comedy, oblivious and innocent reader, romance, friendship
Word count: 5.515
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"Yeonjun, look at this!" Y/N exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement over a simple street performer they'd stumbled upon. Her enthusiasm for life's simple pleasures never ceased to amaze him.
He smiled, watching her with a warmth that only she could evoke. "You find joy in everything, don't you?" he remarked, not just referring to the performer but to the essence of Y/N herself.
She turned to him, her smile unwavering. "Why not? Life's too short to not enjoy the little things. Besides, I get to enjoy them with you."
Yeonjun's heart fluttered at her words, yet a part of him ached, wondering if she'd ever see him in a different light. Despite the frustration her obliviousness sometimes caused, he found it endearing, choosing to let her be her wonderfully carefree self. Their unique dynamics often led to confused and questioning looks from friends and bandmates.
To outsiders, their interactions seemed to blur the lines between friendship and something more. They cuddled, shared kisses on the lips, and held hands—gestures typically reserved for couples.
One afternoon, while hanging out with their closest friends, Wooyoung and Chanbin, a moment unfolded that left everyone but Y/N contemplating the nature of their relationship.
As Y/N leaned in to give Yeonjun a peck on the lips—a gesture that had become a casual expression of her affection—Wooyoung's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Chanbin, equally shocked, turned to Wooyoung, his eyes wide.
"Are you guys sure you're just friends?" Wooyoung couldn't help but ask, the disbelief evident in his voice.
Y/N laughed, a sound as light and carefree as her personality. "Of course! Yeonjun is my best friend. Aren't friends supposed to show love and care for each other?"
Chanbin exchanged a look with Wooyoung, both of them dumbfounded. "Yeah, but not usually with a kiss on the lips," Chanbin muttered, still trying to wrap his head around their relationship.
Yeonjun, caught between embarrassment and the rapid pounding of his heart, could only offer a shy smile. Despite the confusion, the warmth and happiness he felt whenever Y/N was around kept his spirits high.
Later, as they walked along the riverbank, Wooyoung nudged Yeonjun gently.
"You know, it's okay to want more," he said, his tone soft, understanding the unspoken feelings his friend harbored.
Yeonjun let out a sigh, his gaze fixed on the water's surface. "I know, but I can't force her to see something she doesn't. Besides, I cherish what we have. I'm afraid of ruining it."
Chanbin, joining the conversation, added, "But don't you think she might actually feel the same and just doesn't know how to express it? I mean, the way she looks at you, it's not just any friend's look."
Yeonjun considered his words, the possibility stirring a flicker of hope within him. Yet, the fear of misinterpreting their friendship and the potential fallout kept him hesitant.
As the day turned to evening, the group found themselves at a cozy café, the warmth of the ambiance contrasting the cool air outside. Y/N sat next to Yeonjun, her head resting on his shoulder as they all shared stories and laughed over past memories.
It was moments like these that Yeonjun cherished the most—the simplicity, the laughter, and the undeniable connection he felt with Y/N. Yet, a part of him longed for her to understand the depth of his feelings, to see beyond the bounds of friendship.
"Hey, Yeonjun," Y/N whispered, drawing his attention away from the conversation. "You know, I really appreciate you being in my life. You make everything brighter."
Her words, sincere and heartfelt, caused his heart to skip a beat. "Y/N, you have no idea how much that means to me," he replied, his voice laden with emotion.
The evening wore on, filled with more laughter and shared glances between Yeonjun and Y/N. Their friends couldn't help but marvel at the bond between them, a bond that seemed to transcend the usual definitions of friendship. A few days later, the usual buzz of the HYBE cafeteria was complemented by a gathering that seemed to blur the lines between several groups under the HYBE labels and beyond. There, amidst the laughter and chatter, sat TXT, along with Y/N, who had managed to forge close bonds with not only TXT but also members from Le Sserafim, NewJeans, ENHYPEN, and even Seventeen.
Y/N's easygoing and bubbly nature had endeared her to many, including Le Sserafim's YunJin and Sakura, NewJeans' Daniel, ENHYPEN's Jay and Jake, and Seventeen's Vernon and Mingyu. Today, they were all congregated around a large table, the air filled with the warmth of friendship and the occasional tease.
Sakura, always observant, caught the subtle yet intimate gesture of Y/N's hand finding its way into Yeonjun's.
She couldn't help but nudge YunJin beside her, motioning towards the pair with a curious glance. "Look," she whispered, "do you think...?"
YunJin, who had been watching the duo for a while now, understood immediately. "Oh, that? Y/N does that all the time with Yeonjun. It's their thing, I guess," she explained, though her eyes sparkled with a hint of amusement.
Before Sakura could probe further, Jay and Jake arrived, greeting everyone with their characteristic enthusiasm. "Hey, everyone!" Jay called out, sliding into a seat next to Yeonjun, while Jake found a spot beside Y/N.
The conversation picked up seamlessly, a blend of updates, jokes, and the kind of light-hearted teasing that only close friends could get away with. Jay, with a mischievous grin, couldn't resist a jab at Yeonjun. "So, Yeonjun, still Y/N's favorite friend, huh?"
Y/N, bubbling with her usual vivacity, chimed in without a beat. "Of course! Yeonjun's my favorite 'boyfriend'!" she declared, her words innocent but loaded with unintended meaning.
The statement caught Yeonjun completely off-guard, causing him to choke on his drink. The sudden commotion sent ripples of confusion and laughter around the table.
Sakura, seizing the moment, leaned forward, her curiosity piqued. "So, have you two finally made it official?" she asked, her eyes darting between Yeonjun and Y/N.
YunJin, barely containing her laughter, watched the scene unfold with glee. "Official? What do you mean?" Y/N asked, genuinely perplexed by the question.
Sakura, momentarily at a loss for words, clarified, "Officially girlfriend and boyfriend."
Y/N paused, her brows knitting in thought before responding with a logic only she could muster. "I guess so... Yeonjun is a boy, and he's my friend, so..." Her response, sincere yet hilariously missing the mark, prompted a collective mental facepalm from everyone at the table—everyone, that is, except Yeonjun.
YunJin, unable to hold back any longer, giggled. "Please, Y/N, never lose your innocence," she said, her laughter infectious.
The conversation drew the attention of TXT's Hueningkai and Beomgyu, who had been engaged in their own discussion. Hueningkai, amused by the exchange, turned to Beomgyu, remarking, "How dense can you get?"
His comment, though whispered, didn't escape Yeonjun's ears. Yeonjun shot Hueningkai a glare, protective of Y/N even in the face of jest. Hueningkai, catching the look, offered an apologetic smile, raising his hands in a gesture of peace.
The table erupted into laughter, the mix of misunderstandings and affections painting a vivid picture of their friendship. As the laughter subsided, conversations resumed, flowing from topic to topic, with occasional teasing jabs directed at Yeonjun and Y/N's unique relationship.
Y/N, blissfully unaware of the implications of her words, continued to engage with everyone, her cheerfulness and warmth drawing people in. Yeonjun, despite the occasional frustration, couldn't help but smile at her side, his affection for her deepening with every passing moment.
As the afternoon waned and the group began to disperse, promises of future gatherings were exchanged, each member heading back to their respective schedules. Yeonjun and Y/N lingered for a moment, their hands still intertwined, a silent testament to the inexplicable bond they shared.
"Yeonjun, today was fun, wasn't it?" Y/N asked, her gaze softening as she looked up at him.
Yeonjun's heart was a mix of hope and apprehension as he agreed with Y/N's sentiment, "Yes, it was. And you should know, Y/N, you're my favorite person in the world."
Her smile was like dawn breaking, warm and inviting. "Yeonjun, that's so sweet. You're my favorite person too!" Her laughter, light and carefree, filled the air between them.
He leaned in, a soft kiss on her forehead sealing his unspoken words, watching as she turned to leave, her steps light, her spirit untethered. Yet, as she disappeared from view, Yeonjun felt the weight of his unvoiced feelings heavier than ever.
Later, in the echo of the dance room, surrounded by the TXT members, it was Soobin who broke the silence. "Yeonjun, man, you've got to tell Y/N how you feel. It's now or never."
Yeonjun exhaled a tired laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "You think I haven't tried? But every gesture, every kiss, she sees it as... just friendship. Or at least, I think so. It's like deciphering a complex code."
Beomgyu leaned in with a knowing look. "But have you tried being straightforward? Like, really laying your heart out there?"
Yeonjun shook his head, a mix of frustration and fondness in his eyes. "It feels like I've tried everything short of hiring a skywriter."
Hueningkai, ever the optimist, piped up, "Why not just say 'I love you'? Sometimes, simplicity is key."
Sighing, Yeonjun mulled over the suggestion. "Being blunt... I suppose it could work. But with Y/N, I worry it'll just bounce off her like everything else. Does she even see me as more than a friend?"
It was Taehyun who offered a new perspective, his voice calm and thoughtful. "But think about it, Yeonjun. The way you two are together—the kisses, the cuddling, holding hands. Doesn't that already say more than words could?"
The mention brought a flush to Yeonjun's cheeks, his mind replaying the recent incident where Y/N had kissed him on the lips in front of Wooyoung and Chanbin. "You're right... We do act like more than just friends. It's just... hard to admit it out loud."
Time had woven a complex tapestry of emotions and unspoken truths between Yeonjun and Y/N. Their friendship, deep and unyielding, was a source of joy and, at times, quiet longing—for Yeonjun, at least. Y/N, in her ever-buoyant and cheerful manner, seemed blissfully unaware of the romantic undercurrents that had begun to stir in Yeonjun's heart. She cherished the moments they shared, the laughter, the conversations, and the comfort of his presence, seemingly oblivious to the depth of Yeonjun's feelings for her.
On a seemingly ordinary day, Yeonjun found himself in the company of Y/N, Wooyoung, and Chanbin, navigating the aisles of a local store. Y/N had insisted they accompany her on a quest for new makeup, a task they all approached with varying degrees of enthusiasm.
As they perused the makeup aisle, Yeonjun couldn't help but admire Y/N's excitement over the colorful arrays of products, her eyes shining with each new discovery. It was in these simple moments that his feelings for her seemed to grow even more profound.
Their peaceful exploration was soon interrupted by a group of girls who recognized them as idols. The girls wasted no time, approaching with bold smiles and flirtatious greetings, clearly interested in catching the boys' attention.
"Hey, aren't you Yeonjun from TXT?" one of the girls exclaimed, her voice laced with excitement.
Wooyoung nudged Yeonjun, whispering with a smirk, "Looks like you've got some fans."
Yeonjun offered a polite, albeit strained, smile. "Yes, that's me. It's nice to meet you."
The girls giggled amongst themselves, stepping closer, their intentions clear as they began to flirt more openly. "We're huge fans! It's so amazing to see you here. Are you shopping for anything special?" another girl chimed in, her gaze lingering on Yeonjun.
Chanbin, ever the observer, leaned in towards Yeonjun, muttering under his breath, "Seems like you've caught their eye, man. How are you going to handle this?"
Yeonjun, feeling increasingly uncomfortable, was about to respond when he noticed Y/N's frustration growing. She had been searching for a particular foundation, only to find it was not in stock.
"Oh, this is just perfect," Y/N sighed loudly, her disappointment cutting through the tension. "They don't have the one foundation I came here for."
In a moment that seemed to stretch, Y/N turned, her attention solely on Yeonjun, completely oblivious to the girls vying for his attention. With a pout that could only be described as endearing, she stepped directly between Yeonjun and the flirtatious group, wrapping her arms around him in a gesture of comfort-seeking.
Yeonjun, used to Y/N's displays of affection but still momentarily taken aback by her timing, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, instinctively protective.
"Let's try another store after this," he suggested, his tone calm but firm, a silent message to the girls that his attention was solely on Y/N.
Y/N, still clinging to Yeonjun, nodded, her earlier disappointment forgotten in the warmth of his gesture. "Yeah, let's do that. I really want to try that new line everyone's been talking about."
The girls, suddenly realizing their presence was hardly acknowledged, exchanged awkward glances. One of them attempted to salvage the situation. "Um, so, Yeonjun, maybe we could get a picture with you?"
Yeonjun, ever the gentleman, was about to agree when Y/N, still clinging to him, looked up with a mix of confusion and curiosity. "A picture? Oh, are you fans? That's sweet, but we're kind of in the middle of something here."
Wooyoung, unable to contain his amusement, burst out laughing. "Y/N, always straight to the point."
Chanbin joined in, adding, "Yeah, sorry, but we're on a mission for makeup here. Maybe another time?"
The girls, now clearly feeling out of place, mumbled their apologies and goodbyes, quickly retreating.
Once they were alone again, Y/N looked up at Yeonjun with those innocent eyes of hers. "Were they bothering you? I swear, some people just don't understand personal space."
Yeonjun chuckled, the irony of her statement not lost on him. "You're one to talk about personal space," he teased, his heart still racing from their close encounter.
Y/N pouted again, this time in mock offense. "Hey! That's different. I'm your friend. Plus, you know you love my hugs."
Wooyoung, ever the instigator, piped up, "Yeah, Yeonjun, you do seem to enjoy Y/N's... personal space invasions."
Chanbin laughed, nudging Yeonjun playfully. "I think we all know Yeonjun wouldn't have it any other way."
Yeonjun's heart fluttered under Y/N's innocent grip on his arm as they left the store, his cheeks still holding a hint of pink from the earlier encounter. They made their way out, Y/N chatting animatedly about the beauty products she had managed to find, even if the foundation she wanted wasn't among them. Yeonjun could only smile at her enthusiasm, captivated by her spirit.
"Even without the foundation, today was a success, don't you think?" Y/N beamed, her eyes sparkling with contentment.
"Absolutely," Yeonjun agreed, his voice warm. "Seeing you happy makes any day a success for me."
Y/N laughed, her head tilting slightly. "You're such a sweetheart, Yeonjun. What would I do without you?"
Their conversation was filled with laughter and gentle teasing, a perfect moment of friendship—or perhaps something more, at least in Yeonjun's hopeful heart.
The following weekend brought another adventure, this time with the rest of TXT at a bustling arcade. Amidst the sounds of games and the vibrant lights, Y/N caught the attention of a guy who clearly found her attractive.
Her beauty wasn't something Yeonjun or anyone could deny, but her response to the guy's advances was unexpectedly comical.
At first, Y/N's confusion was evident. She politely apologized to the guy, mistaking his flirtatious intentions for a misunderstanding about her being an arcade employee.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I don't work here. Can I help you find someone who does?" she asked, her innocence on full display.
The guy, momentarily taken aback, couldn't help but laugh, finding her response endearing. "No, no, I didn't think you worked here. I just thought you were really pretty and wanted to talk to you," he explained, attempting to clarify his intentions.
From a distance, Yeonjun and the rest of TXT watched, ready to intervene if necessary but also amused by the unfolding scene. Beomgyu, in particular, couldn't contain his laughter when Y/N continued to miss the guy's cues.
"Is there a game you recommend, then?" Y/N asked, genuinely trying to be helpful, misunderstanding his intentions once again.
Beomgyu snorted with laughter, covering his mouth too late to muffle the sound, drawing curious glances from nearby arcade-goers.
Finally, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the situation, Y/N glanced around for Yeonjun, her expression a mix of confusion and a hint of distress. Spotting him, she made her way over, gripping his sleeve tightly.
"Yeonjun, this guy was asking me something, but I don't understand what he means," she said, her brows furrowed in confusion.
Yeonjun, trying to mask his amusement with a soft chuckle, turned to the guy, who looked utterly baffled by now. "She's not quite catching what you're throwing," Yeonjun explained gently. "He was trying to flirt with you, Y/N."
Y/N's eyes widened in realization, turning back to the guy. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't understand. But I should tell you, I'm not available," she said, her statement sending a wave of shock through Yeonjun and the rest of TXT.
The guy, now understanding the situation, nodded respectfully. "No worries, it was nice talking to you anyway," he said before walking away, leaving a puzzled group behind.
"What did you mean by 'not available'?" Taehyun asked, echoing the question in everyone's minds.
Y/N glanced at Yeonjun, then back at the boys, her cheeks tinting with a soft blush. "Well, I mean, I spend all my time with Yeonjun and you guys. I don't really think about dating," she explained, her voice filled with a sincerity that only added to her charm.
The boys exchanged looks, their expressions a mix of amusement and disbelief. Yeonjun, in particular, felt a complex blend of emotions. Her words hinted at a special place he held in her life, but her obliviousness to his deeper feelings remained a gentle torment.
"We told you, Yeonjun, you're her default boyfriend," Hueningkai teased, earning an elbow nudge from Yeonjun.
"Default or not, I'm just happy to be by her side," Yeonjun replied, his gaze softening as he looked at Y/N. Her presence, her innocence, and her unknowing hold over his heart—it was all bewildering yet utterly irreplaceable.
Y/N smiled, oblivious to the deeper currents running through Yeonjun's words. "Let's just enjoy the day, okay? Who's up for a game challenge?"
As they moved on to the next game, Yeonjun's thoughts lingered on Y/N's declaration of being 'not available.' In her innocence and obliviousness, she had unknowingly affirmed the special bond. The scene was set for another casual hangout with Wooyoung and Chanbin at a cozy little café, the aroma of coffee blending with the chatter of patrons. Yeonjun, amidst the warmth of friendship and laughter, decided it was time to take another shot at confessing his feelings to Y/N. He had tried so many times before, each attempt somehow gliding over her head, lost in translation. But today, he felt a renewed sense of determination. Perhaps, just perhaps, his words would finally reach her.
As they sat down, Yeonjun stole glances at Y/N, her joy infectious, lighting up the room. Taking a deep breath, he leaned closer, catching her attention.
"Y/N, you know we've been friends for so long, right?" Yeonjun started, his voice slightly shaky.
Y/N looked at him, nodding with a bright smile, "Of course, Yeonjun! You're like, my favorite person in the world!"
Encouraged by her warmth, Yeonjun continued, "Well, I've been thinking... and I realize that what I feel for you... it's more than just friendship."
Y/N's smile wavered, confusion flickering in her eyes. "More than friends? Yeonjun, I feel something more too, you're my bested friend," she replied, her innocence beaming through.
Before he could clarify, she pecked his lips quickly, a gesture of affection she saw as entirely platonic. "Be right back, just going to the restroom," she announced, leaving a stunned Yeonjun behind.
Wooyoung and Chanbin, who had been watching the exchange with bated breath, erupted into laughter. "Man, you were so direct this time, and she still missed it!" Wooyoung managed between wheezes.
Yeonjun sighed, a bittersweet smile on his face. "I thought being blunt would do it. But it's like... it's like she's in her own world."
Chanbin leaned in, trying to offer some consolation. "It's just Y/N being Y/N, you know? But dude, that was a solid confession. How she twisted it to 'bested friend' is beyond me."
Yeonjun recounted the recent arcade incident to them, sharing how a guy had tried flirting with Y/N, and her utterly oblivious response was to declare herself 'not available' without realizing the context. "I mean, what does she think 'not available' means in that sense? It's like she's only seeing what she wants to," he mused, puzzled.
Wooyoung, wiping away tears of laughter, suggested, "Have you considered writing it down for her? Like, maybe if she sees the words, it'll sink in?"
Chanbin nodded in agreement, "Or maybe it's about showing her in a way she can't misunderstand. Like, not just saying 'I like you,' but really spelling it out for her."
Yeonjun pondered their advice, the gears turning in his head. "Maybe you're right. I need to find a way that breaks through her... unique perspective."
As Y/N slid back into her seat, her eyes sparkling with the residual joy of whatever had caught her interest in the restroom, the mood at the table subtly shifted. Yeonjun, gathering his courage, decided it was now or never.
He reached out, gently taking her hand, causing a ripple of silence to cascade over their little group. "Y/N, listen. I need to explain something to you," he began, his voice laced with an earnestness that drew her full attention.
"Okay, I'm all ears," she responded, her cheerful demeanor clouding over with a hint of curiosity at the serious tone in his voice.
Yeonjun inhaled deeply, searching for the right words. "You know when people 'like' each other, right? Not just as friends, but... more than that. Like couples do?"
Y/N tilted her head, her brows knitting together in thought. "Yeah, I've heard about that. It's like in the movies, right? When people fall in love?"
"That's exactly it," Yeonjun affirmed, a spark of hope flickering in his eyes. "And, well, couples do things together. Things like holding hands, kissing, and cuddling."
"But Yeonjun, we do all of that already," she pointed out, genuinely puzzled, glancing between him and the other guys for some sort of clarification.
Wooyoung and Chanbin exchanged looks, their expressions a mix of disbelief and suppressed laughter, both men mentally facepalming at the situation unfolding before them.
"Yeah, but those things are meant to express feelings... feelings beyond friendship," Yeonjun pressed on, trying to keep the frustration from seeping into his voice.
Y/N's face lit up with a dawning realization, only to be immediately followed by confusion. "But doesn't doing those things make us a couple, then?" she asked, her voice laced with innocence.
Yeonjun sighed, his patience waning. "In a way, yes. But only if both people understand and agree that's what they are to each other."
Chanbin, unable to resist, chimed in with a chuckle. "And usually, they both know they're in a relationship because they talk about it and agree on it, Y/N."
Wooyoung, ever the joker, added, "Yeah, it's not like you accidentally trip and fall into being someone's girlfriend."
Y/N laughed, missing the sarcasm. "That would be silly, wouldn't it? But... I guess I never thought about it like that. We do all these couple things, huh?"
Yeonjun nodded, feeling a mixture of hope and desperation. "Exactly. And, Y/N, the thing is... my feelings for you are exactly like that. More than friends."
Her eyes widened, and for a moment, there was a hint of understanding, a brief flicker that perhaps this time she got it. "So... you're saying you 'like' like me?"
"Yes! Exactly that!" Yeonjun exclaimed, a wave of relief washing over him.
But then, Y/N tilted her head, the confusion returning. "But we're already doing everything a couple does. So, what changes?"
Wooyoung facepalmed visibly this time. "Y/N, it's about acknowledging those feelings. Saying out loud, 'Hey, I like you more than a friend, and I want to be your boyfriend.'"
Y/N pondered for a moment, her gaze flitting between Yeonjun's hopeful eyes and the other two's amused expressions. "So... if I say I 'like' like you too, Yeonjun, we become official? Like, an actual couple?"
Yeonjun's heart leaped. "Yes, that's exactly it!"
She chewed on her lip, considering. "But I already feel happy and my heart beats really fast when I'm with you. I thought that was just what friendship feels like."
Chanbin laughed, shaking his head. "No, Y/N, that's what liking someone feels like. Your heart beating fast, feeling happy just being with them—that's more than friendship."
Wooyoung leaned forward, adding his own insight. "Think about it. Why do you think your heart beats faster with Yeonjun and not with us?"
Y/N looked at Yeonjun, her expression softening. "Is that why you've been trying to tell me all this time?"
Yeonjun nodded, his voice gentle. "Yes. Because I feel the same way. My heart races too, Y/N, every single time I'm with you."
The table fell into a comfortable silence, Y/N pondering the newfound revelation about her own feelings. Her cluelessness had masked a deeper, unexplored affection for Yeonjun, one that she was only now beginning to acknowledge.
"So," she began, hesitantly, "if we both feel this way, does that mean... we can try being...more than friends? More than best friends? Like, officially?" Y/N's voice was laced with a newfound curiosity, her eyes searching Yeonjun's for confirmation.
Yeonjun's heart felt like it was about to burst with joy. "Yes, Y/N, that's exactly what it means. We can try being a couple, see how it goes."
A smile slowly spread across Y/N's face, a mixture of excitement and nervousness. "I... I would like that. I mean, I already enjoy spending all my time with you. So, trying this... it feels right."
Wooyoung let out a whoop from across the table, "Finally! You two figuring it out is the best plot twist ever!"
Chanbin clapped Yeonjun on the back, "Man, I'm so happy for you guys. This has been a very long time coming."
The atmosphere at the table was electric with excitement and relief. The weight of years of unspoken feelings seemed to lift off Yeonjun's shoulders, leaving him feeling light and hopeful.
"So, what now?" Y/N asked, her voice a soft murmur, almost drowned out by the bustling cafe around them.
"Now, we go on our first official date," Yeonjun suggested, his eyes twinkling. "How about tomorrow? We could do something simple, just enjoy the day together."
"That sounds perfect," Y/N replied, her smile radiant. "It's a date then."
The afternoon at the café had been one for the memory books, with Wooyoung and Chanbin throwing out wild ideas for Yeonjun and Y/N's first official date. "How about bungee jumping? Nothing says 'I love you' like plummeting towards the earth at high speed," Wooyoung suggested with a straight face.
Chanbin nodded sagely, "Or an escape room! You can figure out if you're truly compatible by whether you get out or not."
Yeonjun chuckled, shaking his head, "I think we'll stick to the botanical gardens. It's more our speed."
Y/N agreed, her hand finding Yeonjun's under the table. "Yeah, and then we can have dinner at that café we both love. It sounds perfect."
As they left the café, Yeonjun couldn't help but feel a mix of elation and nerves. Taking Y/N's hand felt like the most natural thing in the world, yet it sent waves of excitement through him. "I can't believe we're doing this," he murmured, his thumb gently stroking her hand.
Y/N smiled up at him, "I'm really looking forward to it. It's like a new chapter for us."
Yeonjun's revelation to the rest of TXT that he'd finally shared his feelings with Y/N—and that they were reciprocated—was met with a collective sigh of relief and cheer. The journey had been long, marked by patience and a few misunderstandings, but it was worth every moment.
The weeks that followed was a whirlwind for TXT, with back-to-back dance practices in preparation for their comeback. Despite the exhaustion, Yeonjun couldn't help but look forward to seeing Y/N, who had promised to stop by after her own practice.
When she arrived, her presence was like a breath of fresh air, instantly lifting the mood in the room. She walked straight over to Yeonjun, wrapping him in a tight hug which he gladly returned. The kiss she planted on his lips was now filled with a new understanding and affection, sending his heart racing.
After practice, the fatigue from the day's efforts weighed heavily on the members of TXT, but Y/N's approach, wrapping her arms around Yeonjun once again, dispelled any remnants of tiredness.
In a moment that felt both surprising and entirely natural, Y/N whispered "I love you" to Yeonjun. It was a confession she'd never made before, yet it sounded as if it had always been meant to be said.
Yeonjun pulled back slightly, his eyes wide with surprise and joy. "You...what?"
"I said I love you. Is that wrong?" Y/N asked, her innocence shining through despite the profoundness of her admission.
"No... No, there's absolutely nothing wrong with that," Yeonjun managed to say, his voice filled with emotion. He glanced at his bandmates, who were staring in disbelief, not having expected such a confession so soon.
Y/N continued, her voice soft and earnest, "It's just...now that I finally realized what we were doing was more romantic than friendship, and back at the arcade, when I told that guy I wasn't available because of you. Then our first date turning into two dates and so on. I love you."
Yeonjun's heart felt like it could burst with happiness, the hearts in his eyes growing more than they ever had before. He lifted Y/N into his arms, pulling her into a deep, loving kiss. It was longer and more passionate than any kiss they'd shared before, a true expression of the love they now openly acknowledged for each other.
"I love you too, Y/N," Yeonjun whispered against her lips, his voice thick with emotion.
Around them, the practice room erupted into cheers and applause from TXT, who had been silently rooting for their relationship from the sidelines.
"So, when's the wedding?" Hueningkai teased, earning himself an elbow in the ribs from Soobin.
"Let them enjoy the moment," Soobin said, though he couldn't hide his smile.
Yeonjun set Y/N down, keeping her close. "I guess we're really doing this, huh?" he said, a broad smile on his face.
Y/N nodded, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "Yes, we are. And I wouldn't want it any other way."
As the group started to gather their things, the conversation turned to plans for the evening, with everyone excitedly throwing out suggestions for how to celebrate the new couple's declaration of love.
"How about we all go out for dinner? My treat," Beomgyu offered, eager to celebrate his friends' newfound happiness.
"That sounds great," Y/N agreed, her smile never fading.
As they left the practice room together, the weight of the day's rehearsals forgotten, Yeonjun and Y/N walked side by side, their hands intertwined. The future was uncertain, filled with both challenges and joys, but they were ready to face it together, their love a steady beacon guiding their way.
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sunkissed-zegras · 2 months
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38. "stay with me, please? i need you tonight. maybe for the rest of my life, if you're generous."
with jamie!
𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 | jd⁹
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♡ ─ word count | 1.6k
♡ ─ warnings | hurt/comfort, ANGST!! jamie being an asshole (but it was lowkey justified), mention of his injury/trade :((, thats all!
♡ ─ ev's notes | okay listen i forgot the prompt but the last few paragraphs basically describe what the prompt conveys if that makes sense, i still hope u enjoy it nonnie 😭🩷
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Jamie had a pretty hard season, with him moving to Philadelphia unexpectedly and him being injured had really gotten to him. He's spent the last two weeks at home recovering and trying to get better as soon as he could, he wanted to be back on the ice as soon as possible. His injury added another layer of frustration. The pain, both physical and emotional, weighed heavily on him. Hockey had always been his sanctuary, and the forced break on top of the trade felt like the whole universe was against him.
You entered the condo, sighing with exhaustion. The last couple months had been frustrating for you as well, but it didn't even come close to how Jamie was feeling. As you entered the small condo, you heard the shower running and assumed it was Jamie.
You put down everything and began starting on dinner, Jamie probably hadn't eaten anything except breakfast. You were worried for him, more than you could ever express. You'd always had faith in him even in the lowest of the lows but he had never been this low in his entire career. He'd always been a determined person but right now, it really did feel like the odds were stacked up against him.
You wanted to do everything in your power to make him happy again, even if it was for a fleeting moment before the world closing on him again. The smell of a home-cooked meal began to fill the air as you moved around the kitchen, chopping vegetables and preparing a comforting dish.
As you worked, your thoughts lingered on Jamie's struggles - the trade, the injury, and the emotional toll it all took on him. You understood the importance of hockey in his life, how it served as a source of purpose. Tonight, you wanted to provide not just a meal but a reminder that he wasn't alone in this struggle, no matter what happens.
As your timer beeped, indicating that dinner was ready, you set the table, adorned with comforting dishes. The shower turned off, and soon Jamie emerged, his weariness evident in his movements. You gave him a warm smile, opening up your arms for a hug.
"I made your favorite,"
He slumped down to your height and embraced you tightly, sighing. You let him hug you before he slipped away from the embrace, and you could feel the tension in his shoulders as he did. The weariness in his pretty eyes spoke volumes, but so did the gratitude for the effort you put into making the evening a little brighter.
"Thank you," Jamie murmured, his voice a mixture of fatigue and appreciation. He walked over to the table and sat down as you brought waters from the fridge before sitting with him.
"How was your day?" You asked gently as you settled into the seat, glancing up to watch him.
"It was fine." He responded shortly as he began eating the food, avoiding your gaze. You knew he didn't want to come off bitter but it stung, you tried your best to not to take it personal. "You?"
"Oh, you know, the usual," you replied with a light chuckle, trying to maintain a casual tone. "Work had its moments, but nothing too exciting. I did manage to catch up with Maya over the phone today, she said she missed us back in California."
You knew you had messed up as you heard Jamie's fork hit the plate, the sound echoing throughout the apartment. Shit, I shouldn't have mentioned California. You looked up and caught his tired gaze as he sighed.
"I'm sorry," you offered softly, regret lacing your words. "I didn't mean to bring up anything that might upset you. It's just habit to share little updates about people we know, you know?"
Jamie took a deep breath, and you could see the effort it took for him to compose himself. "It's okay," he finally replied, though the strain in his voice betrayed the words. "I just... miss the way things used to be."
His vulnerability hung in the air, and you felt a pang of empathy. The unexpected move to Philadelphia had disrupted not only his career but also the familiar life you both had in California. You reached across the table, gently placing your hand over his. "I miss it too, Jamie. But we'll make new memories here. It just takes time."
He sighed and pulled his hand away from yours, your chest squeezing in hurt. He took the fork and continued to eat, choosing to stay silent. You didn't know why he was being so distant, so cold. You hated it but you couldn't resent him for it, you knew it wasn't his fault. That still didn't mean it didn't hurt, though.
The room seemed to shrink with the silence, the only sound was the clinking of cutlery against the plate. The unspoken tension between you and Jamie hung heavy in the air and despite your attempt to offer comfort, he withdrew further into his thoughts. As he continued to eat in silence, you couldn't shake the ache in your chest. The distance, both physical and emotional, left you feeling like a spectator in Jamie's struggle, unable to bridge the gap that seemed to widen with each passing moment.
You had never had this problem with Jamie before, he communicated everything he felt so that it was easier for the both of you so this was new territory. What had changed? Why was he retreating into this new, silent version of himself? The questions lingered, unanswered, amplifying the sense of helplessness.
With a heavy sigh, you set your fork down, the clatter against the plate echoing the unease in the room. "Jamie," you began tentatively, your voice soft but carrying the weight of your concern. "I hate seeing you like this, I just want to help."
Jamie had finally slammed the fork down, looking up at you with agitated playing on his face. "You can't fucking help me, Y/N. Do you get that, is that simple enough for you? I can't breathe around you without you looking at me and trying to analyze it and help me. You look at me like I'm some kind of burden you need to carry, and I'm sick of it."
His words hit you like a punch to the gut, the raw emotion behind them stinging more than any physical blow. It was a side of Jamie you hadn't encountered before, and the harshness in his tone took you aback. There was silence as you both stared at each other and you saw the regret slowly seep into Jamie's expression.
You took a moment to collect yourself, swallowing the lump in your throat before finally speaking. "I never meant to make you feel like a burden. I just care about you, and seeing you struggle hurts. I thought we could face it together, like we always have."
He lowered his gaze, a visible conflict playing out in his eyes. The regret painted across his face was palpable, and for a moment, it seemed like he was grappling with the weight of his words. "I know I messed up," Jamie finally admitted, his voice softer now, remorse evident. "It's just... everything feels like too much right now, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry, baby."
The pet name rolled off his tongue like honey as he spoke and you could see the old Jamie come back slowly as you gazed at him. You nodded, acknowledging the complexity of the emotions that had fueled his outburst.
"Everything will be easier if you just talk to me, Jamie." You paused, choosing your words carefully. "I want to understand, Jamie. I want to be there for you," you continued, your voice gentle but firm. "We can face whatever it is together. Just talk to me. Please."
He sighed, the conflict in his eyes softening. "I know, Y/N. I just... I'm not used to all of this. The move, the injury, it's like my whole world got turned upside down, and I don't know how to understand it."
You reached across the table, your hand finding his. "We'll figure it out together. You don't have to carry it all on your own. I hate seeing you hurt like this, baby."
He squeezed your hand, the warmth of the gesture was filled with gratitude. "I don't want to push you away, Y/N. I just... I've always been the one who had it all figured out, you know? But this, it's different. It's overwhelming."
"You don't have to have it all figured out, Jamie. We'll navigate through this together. It's okay not to be okay, you don't have to play the part because at the end of the day, you're just human."
He nodded, a mixture of emotions flickering in his eyes. "I'm just scared of losing everything, of losing myself in all of this mess."
The weight of his fears hung in the air, and you leaned in, your thumb gently caressing his hand. "You won't lose yourself, Jamie. I'm here to help you find your way back. We'll take it one step at a time."
For a moment, he hesitated, the weight of vulnerability hanging in the air. Then, slowly, he began to open up. The words spilled out, frustration, fear, and the overwhelming pressure he felt. As he spoke, you listened, offering support.
After the conversation, you laid next to him in the bed, his head laying on your chest. The silence was comfortable as you both began to seep into sleep, enveloped in one another. Your fingers gently traced soothing patterns on his back as you held him close, your presence a reassurance that he wasn't alone ever.
The soft rhythm of his breathing matched the steady beat of your heart, as Jamie shifted slightly, his fingers finding yours in the darkness.
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-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-
thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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reystenius-01 · 1 month
Text
April Fools
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In which: R pulls a prank on Stina for April Fool’s. Let's just say Stina did not find it amusing.
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You were in the doghouse, to put it lightly. 
April Fool’s was a big thing in your family. You’d always go all out on your pranks; your brother had pretended that he and his wife were getting divorced last year. The family group chat had never been more concerned. The woman was basically a saint, the entire family had immediately taken her side before your brother blurted out that it was just a prank, which then led to a bit of no contact for a while, but anyway… 
You had pretended to come down with a headache so you could leave the team gathering a little early the previous night, wanting to set up the prank you’d be pulling on your girlfriend, if all went according to plan. You nearly failed at the first hurdle though, Stina sweetly asking if you just wanted her to stay home with her and cuddle. You nearly gave in just then, a sucker for those blue-green eyes. It took everything in you to reassure her that you’d be okay on your own for the night.
Stina did walk you to the door of your shared apartment, giving you a sweet kiss before you headed inside. 
You carefully manoeuvred around the living room, making sure everything was set up just right for when she arrived home.
Just as you finished setting up the water balloon above the front doorway, you heard the sound of keys jingling outside. Your heart raced with anticipation as you quickly hid behind the couch, waiting for Stina to walk in.
The door creaked open, and you held your breath as Stina stepped inside, a tired smile on her face. "Hey, love, I'm home," she called out, kicking off her shoes and hanging up her coat. “I know you said you’d be okay on your own, but my head started hurting halfway back to Leah’s place, so I just turned around.”
You winced as Stina's voice interrupted your thoughts, her tired smile tugging at your heartstrings. “Hey, Stin,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you peeked out from your hiding spot.
Stina's eyes sparkled with affection as she spotted you behind the couch. “What are you up to back there?” she asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.
You grinned mischievously, trying to keep your excitement in check. “Oh, just waiting for you,” you replied cryptically, hoping to maintain the element of surprise.
Stina raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “Waiting for me? What for?” she asked, her tone playful as she stepped closer to where you were hiding.
Before you could respond, you heard the sound of the water balloon releasing above the doorway, followed by a loud splash as it landed squarely on Stina, drenching her from head to toe.
Stina froze in disbelief, her eyes wide with shock as she stared at the water dripping down her face and clothes. “What the...?” she sputtered, her voice trailing off as she tried to process what had just happened. Her expression darkened, her eyes narrowing as she processed the situation. “Are you kidding me right now?” she snapped, her voice laced with anger as she took in her soaked clothes and dripping hair.
You scrambled to find the right words, feeling a sinking sensation in the pit of your stomach. “I...I'm so sorry, Stin,” you stammered, your voice filled with regret. “It was supposed to be a prank.” You sheepishly shrugged. “April Fool’s?”
Stina let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through her wet hair. “I can't believe you would do something like this, especially when I'm already not feeling well,” she muttered, her irritation evident as she shot you a glare.
You hung your head in shame, feeling like the worst partner in the world. “I know, and I'm really sorry,” you apologised, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn't mean to ruin your day even more.”
Stina sighed heavily, her anger starting to subside as she saw the genuine remorse in your eyes. “Just… just give me some space right now,” she said wearily, her tone softened slightly. “I need some time to cool off.”
You nodded, feeling like a complete idiot as you retreated to the other side of the room, giving Stina the space she needed. As you sat there in silence, you couldn't help but feel like you had completely ruined the day, and possibly your relationship with Stina too.
—-—-—-
As you lay on the couch, feeling utterly defeated by your failed prank and the rift it had caused between you and Stina, you couldn't help but feel a surge of determination to make things right. You racked your brain, compiling a whole plan in your head as you plotted your next move.
The next morning, you woke up early, determined to start the day off on the right foot. You tiptoed into the kitchen, careful not to wake Stina as you prepared her favourite breakfast—fluffy pancakes with fresh berries and a side of crispy bacon. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee also filled the air. 
After carefully plating the breakfast, you carried the tray into the bedroom, where Stina was still sleeping soundly. You set the tray down on the bedside table, then tiptoed over to the window, where you had set up a surprise for Stina. You had stayed up late the night before, painstakingly assembling a bouquet of Lego flowers for her to wake up to. Each flower was carefully crafted with vibrant colours and intricate details, a labour of love to show her how much you cared.
“Hey, sleepyhead, I made you breakfast,” you whispered, a hopeful smile on your face as you watched her stir.
Stina blinked sleepily, her eyes widening in surprise as she took in the tray of food and the Lego flowers beside the bed. “Wow, what's all this?” she asked, her voice filled with curiosity as she sat up.
You grinned, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at her reaction. “I wanted to make it up to you for yesterday,” you explained, your voice filled with sincerity. “I know I messed up, but I'm hoping this will help make things right.”
Stina's eyes softened, and she reached out to take your hand in hers. “You didn't have to do all this,” she said softly, her voice filled with warmth. “But I appreciate it. Thank you.”
You squeezed her hand, feeling a rush of gratitude for her forgiveness. “I love you, Stin,” you whispered, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “And I'm sorry for being such an idiot.”
Stina smiled, her heart melting at your words. “I love you too, you big goof,” she teased, pulling you into a warm embrace. “And don't worry—I forgive you. Even though you’re a bit of an idiot.”
You chuckled, the tension of the previous day finally melting away as Stina's teasing brought a smile to your face. “Well, at least I'm your idiot, right?” you replied playfully, leaning in to nuzzle her neck.
Stina giggled, her fingers trailing lightly along your back as she pressed a kiss to your cheek. “That you are,” she murmured, her voice filled with affection. “And I wouldn't have it any other way.”
You grinned, feeling a warmth spread through you at Stina's words. “Good, because I don't think I could handle being anyone else's idiot,” you admitted, capturing her lips in a sweet kiss as an idea popped into your mind. “I still promise to make it up to you, in every way possible,” you whispered, your voice tinged with a hint of mischief as you leaned in closer to her.
Stina melted into the kiss, her arms wrapping around you as she deepened the embrace. A mischievous glint danced in her eyes as she met your gaze, pulling back slightly. “Mmm, you know just how to make it up to me, älskling,” she whispered against your lips.
You felt a thrill shoot through you at Stina's suggestive tone, your heart racing with anticipation. “Oh, do I now?” you teased, trailing kisses along her jawline.
Stina let out a soft moan, her breath catching in her throat as she leaned into your touch. “Mhmm, you do,” she murmured, her voice husky with desire. “But let's finish breakfast first, hmm? We can save the rest of the making up for later.”
“Alright,” you replied, your voice low and husky as you traced a finger along her jawline. “But I promise… I’ll make sure you forget all about yesterday's mishap.”
Stina leaned in closer to you. “Well then,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can't wait to see what you have in mind, min kärlek.”
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tempted to write smut as well 😭😭 not just for stina but for other players too, asks are open! drop any requests you got!
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badnoahmens · 3 months
Text
I Took Your Keys, It Was Me - Part 5
Noah Sebastian x Reader
Words: 5.3k
A/N: part 5 of this series is finally here. I’m considering this to be the last one so I really hope you enjoy 🖤🤍
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When you awoke, the pillow beneath your head had shifted, and Noah was no longer by your side. Sleepily, you look around. The sun was not long up, light shining in low beams of gold through the window.
When you write yourself fully, there was a small clattering in the kitchen. When you turn, you see Noah, lifting spoonfuls of a milky cereal into his mouth, some of which misses and plops back into the bowl. With a grin, he looks at you.
“Good morning sunshine,” he places the bowl on the counter, wiping a drip from his chin. The innocent nickname made your heart swell. “How did you sleep?”
He stood casually shirtless, leaning backward, his hips in line with the countertop. The tattoos that decorated all of his chest and stomach looked like they could be in a gallery. There were ones where the symbolism seemed obvious, but there were so many that sparked new questions.
You rub at one eye sleepily as a yawn escapes your lips, eyes eventually averting from ogling at his tattoos.
“Like a log, actually” you say tagged with a small laugh. Noah smiles in response and turns to place his bowl in the sink, then walks towards you swiftly. He leans down and lands a small kiss on your forehead, smoothing down some of your erratic hairs splayed everywhere with a gentle rub of his thumb.
“Would it be okay if I use your shower?” he asks politely.
“Of course, towels are just around the corner,” you gesture to the cupboard, and Noah soon disappears, the sound of water falling in the bathroom soon follows.
You take this opportunity to find your phone, which had been thoughtfully plugged in by Noah. You assume that you fell asleep long before he did. When you unlock it, you see a plethora of messages from your friend. Instead of replying to them all, you decided to just call her.
It took two rings, and then she was there.
“TELL ME EVERYTHING” she demanded. You couldn’t help but laugh at her brashness.
“He took me home, looked after me, and now he’s currently in my shower” you giggle. You felt like a school girl the way you were talking about Noah. It felt like the butterflies in your stomach were doubling by the second.
“And how are you feeling?” she then asked in a more serious tone.
“Better. I don’t think any of these injuries are that serious. Just a bit of a knock around and some intense bruises. I’ll be fine” you state calmly.
She hmphs in response.
“I’ll never forgive you for not telling me about Noah. But, regardless, tell me about EVERYTHING that has happened. How many dates? Have you kissed? Have you slep-”
“So many questions!” you interject, holding your hands up defensively even though she couldn't see you. You knew exactly where she was going with that.
“Well?”
“A few dates. I’ve met most of the band and crew, they are all so lovely. We made out last night, but it was too painful to take it any further. And that’s it. You’re up to date.”
“Take it further?” She pressed.
“You know exactly what I mean”
“No, I don’t. Please enlighten me”
“My chest and ribs were in too much pain so I had to pull back”
“Good on you for knowing when it was too much, but how did he react? Was he mad?”
The assumption made you wince a little, feeling like you needed to defend him.
“He was apologetic, actually. He was happy to stop. Didn’t want to hurt me.” Your tone was a little more serious now.
“Okay. So now what?” She asked. And that was a great question. Now what?
Now what, in terms of labels for you two, or now what, as in what’s the plan for today?
Your mind raced back to the conversation late last night, the one of Noah taking you to one of his shows.
“He’s driving me to their show tonight, and then driving me back. I think he’s worried I’ll hurt myself by overdoing it if I’m alone” you laugh at the absurdity. It wasn’t like you had lost any limbs or broken any bones.
“He sounds sweet” your friend coos.
“He is.” The sound of the water shutting off in the bathroom makes your heartbeat pick up the pace.
“I promise I’ll keep you up to date with anything else” you say, and then the two of you quickly say your goodbyes.
When Noah walks back into the room, you look up from your phone after going through all of your messages. His towel is hitched low on his hips, beads of hot water still clinging to his body. Steam trailed up into the air almost like a metaphor for how hot he looked at this moment.
His eyes were slightly bloodshot, dark irises looking straight into your soul, hair was slick and stuck down to his forehead, and you didn’t even dare let your eyes wander to the slight lump just beneath where the towel covered his body.
“I don’t exactly have a spare set of clothes, would it be okay if I used your machine to clean these ones?” The politeness was astounding, and the gentleness of which he asked made you become a little woozy.
“Yeah, of course, it’s down this way-“ you begin to stand, ignoring the fire inside of you when you flex your abdominal muscles. Noah noticed the slight wince and swiftly held his hand in your shoulder.
The strength of his grip was so controlled, nowhere near his full potential, but firm enough to know he wasn’t playing around.
“You need to stay seated and take it easy,” just as you begin to argue, he continues. “Doctors orders.”
You stare at him, hands grasping at the sofa’s fabric. Noah lifts an eyebrow at you, as though egging you on to continue, but you huff and fall back in defeat.
Noah grins, triumphantly at that, and then turns on his heels and around the corner again, the sound of the washing machine clunking to life echoes down the hallway after a few moments.
The following hours repeat much the same as that you have just experienced. Beginning a task, Noah firmly reminding you ‘doctor's orders,’ and then proceeding to act like a full time carer.
Lunch? Ordered and delivered.
Dishwasher? Unpacked and mostly out away correctly.
Rubbish? Taken out.
The only thing Noah couldn’t do for you was use the restroom on your behalf, even if he had tried to argue with you about it.
You shift and begin to stand, Noah immediately standing in front of you.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I need to pee, Noah.” You say bluntly, struggling to find an angle that didn’t hurt to pull yourself up.
Noah, although disgruntled, offers you his hands and helps pull you to a stand. Instead of letting you go, he instead traps you in his arms.
“This isn’t helping” you state, but didn’t even dare try and get out of his embrace. He didn’t respond, instead, kept you in his arms for a moment longer. When he did release you, he couldn’t keep his eyes from you as you turned to walk away.
Your business in the bathroom didn’t take long, but when you walked back to the living room, Noah was standing, pacing slowly around the room, his phone held to his ear.
“I don’t know why this is an issue now? You were fine with it earlier?” He argued down the line. He looked like an unimpressed mother the way he stood with one hand on his hip, leaning on one leg more than the other.
He didn’t meet your gaze when you entered, so you assume it’s none of your business. Instead, you return to your seat on the lounge and focus as much as you can on the tv.
“Fine. I’ll make it work. I’ll be there” he huffed, as though in defeat, and then hung up.
“So turns out,” he fell back onto the sofa next to you, bouncing slightly as he landed, “that we need to be there earlier than expected.”
You nod in response.
He continued, “there’s some media who want to do an interview with the whole band. I guess I gotta be there for that”
“I guess you gotta be there for that” you echo playfully.
With Noah’s new schedule for the evening, it meant you had to leave much sooner than expected. Time passed quickly and soon enough you were both in the car and not far from your destination.
The car ride was pleasant, filled with easy conversations, some karaoke sing-a-longs, and even now and then some comfortable silence.
Upon arriving, there was some chaos occurring at the rear of the venue, but Noah didn't seem phased. He coolly parked the car, helped you out of the seat by offering a gentlemanly hand, and then walked towards the hustle and bustle, all the while still holding a firm grip on your hand, like he was scared you would trip and fall.
Through the doors was a labyrinth of endless hallways, ominous doors and flickering lights. Windows were few and far between, but you put that down to the ambient design of the live music venue.
Noah led you effortlessly, unravelling the puzzle of the hallways, gracefully slipping between small gatherings of people, until he came to his desired door.
Along the way, Noah explained that the interview process always felt so forced and unnatural to him. The questions were always premeditated, rehearsed, and disingenuous.
“It’s always the same thing. ‘How are you feeling about tonight’s show? When is new music coming out? Any collabs on the horizon?’. Always trying to get a scoop of drama or intel.” Noah seemed frustrated already, but it was with a steady breath, he twisted the handle and entered the room.
The lights were so bright they almost burned your retinas. Squinting as Noah led you into the room, your eyes adjusted to see a flurry of people. Cameras being set up, mics and more lighting being rigged. The rest of the band sat on a tan sofa. Folio, Ruffilo, Jolly, and then an empty space. Closest to the empty space sat an armchair of a matching colour. Sat there was a man dressed plainly, T-shirt and jeans, who was too engrossed in something on their phone to pay any attention to the room around them.
Folios leg bounced up and down rhythmically, like he was practising a kick drum pattern for the show tonight. Ruffilo and Jolly were in a quiet conversation, throwing a casual head nod to Noah as he entered the room.
Noah looked around, finding a chair off to the side with a pile of equipment and cables on it. He relocated said like to the floor, ignoring the disgruntled look of media, and offered you the seat.
“You’ll get a good view of the whole thing here” he said pointing over his shoulder and the interview set up, “but it shouldn’t take too long.”
He hesitated a moment, and let go of your hand as you sat. He offered you a sweet grin, then turned to take his place on the sofa.
You saw Jolly nudge his elbow into Noah’s side as he sat, the menagerie of people beginning to take their places and roll cameras.
Watching the professional personas take over was fascinating. The way the band effortlessly discusses their answers to the meagre at best questions made the whole process very entertaining. Whether they knew it or not, they took turns in giving their responses, and would nod and hum approvingly if each other's answers. There was a chemistry between them all, like an unspoken language, where they just got each other.
It was 10 or so minutes in, the bland pleasantries long gone, and now the harder hitting questions were being asked.
“What do these records look like compared to your previous works?”
“Any plans to leave your current label once the contract is done?”
“Will your relationships become a distraction from the production of your new music?”
The interviewer was hammering them. He was digging for the details. Looking for the next juicy scoop.
But, it was that last question that echoed in your head.
Relationship?
Noah leaned back in his seat, arm was now resting along the back of the sofa. He took his time, considering the words he would use, how he could dance around this question but still give a satisfactory answer.
Well, that’s what you thought. You expected him to avoid discussing his relationships, let alone you, at any cost. What even were the two of you? There had been no discussion of what you were, only that you had been spending a lot of time together. Surely he wouldn’t let the world know that.
“I'm not distracted. I'm perfectly capable of maintaining my relationship and still producing a kick-ass record. I think I can speak for all of us when I say that we’re in the best place to actually live our lives currently.” Noah takes a moment, a fleeting glance in your direction, and then goes back to his answer.
“We’re lucky to have such good people surrounding us, if anything it’s going to help motivate us even more.”
It was for the most fleeting of moments, but Noah caught your gaze. His eyes flickered to yours almost like it was the reassurance you didn’t know you were looking for, that he was talking about you. You barely even noticed Jolly continuing on from Noah’s answer.
“We surround ourselves with good people, so only good things can come from that.” The rest of the band were nodding in agreement.
The man asking the interview questions, whose name you found out to be Tim, looked ecstatic. He had a hook into the personal lives of this otherwise mysterious band, and he wasn’t going to let go of it that easily.
“Noah, how do you think your audience will react to your new taken status?”
Noah rolled his eyes, removing his arm from the back of the lounge and leant forward on his knees. He held the microphone in one hand, the other waving too and fro to help emphasise his statements.
“Look, the thing I think people need to remember is that I’m a human that has a life. Shocking, I know. Yes, my music means a lot to me. Does that mean it’s the only thing in my life? No. People can think whatever they want, I can’t control that. What I can control, and what we will continue to do, is to put everything we’ve got into making music we enjoy.”
Beautifully, he had dodged the question.
Tim wasn’t happy.
“What does the rest of the band think?” He gestured his hand towards Folio.
“Doesn’t change our lives” he said with a shrug.
Tim grunted, then locked eyes with Ruffilo.
“It’s true. I think most people wouldn’t have even known if you didn’t bring it up in this interview” Rufilo stated calmly, throwing the drama back into Tim.
Clearly dissatisfied with this topic now, Tim moved into something else. The interview was quickly wrapped up mere minutes later. With the cameras now turned off, Tim, now out of the room, Folio, Jolly, Noah and Ruffilo all stood, stretching and heading for the door.
Noah glanced over his shoulder and waved you towards him, slinging his arm over your shoulder and leading you out of the room with him.
“That seemed like fun” you say to the group as they saunter towards the green room.
“One of the less painful ones recently,” Jolly responded.
“He didn’t want to let up with the relationship shit,” Ruffilo commented. You noticed the hint of annoyance on his voice, feeling a sense of guilt creep into the pit of your stomach.
“He’ll be happy with what he got,” Noah chimed in, guiding you into a new empty room of the venue.
You didn’t bring up anything else about the interview out of fear. Fear of adding unnecessary stress, of causing any more tension, and honestly you just didn’t want to be a problem.
You began to watch the flurry in front of you. It was like a well oiled machine the way they choreographed their warm ups. Taking turns for sound check, leaving for periods of time to set up gear, practising their instruments and vocals. This was second nature to them. That interview? Long gone from their worries, so you tried to do the same as best you could.
Noah was always in two places at once, looking like he was working on a thousand things, ticking them off from a mental checklist.
Checking, rechecking, and checking equipment a third time. He was meticulous. His eye for detail, from how the cables were taped down, the placement of the set lists, even observing the light show from various corners of the venue. Everything he did had a purpose, but the way he spoke wasn't demanding. Instead, his cool demeanour helped portray his vision, and the crew knew exactly how to translate that into their craft.
An hour has passed before you knew it, and the energy in the room shifted. More and more people started to filter through the rear of the venue, and soon enough what looked like the whole lineup for the evening's entertainment filled the greenroom.
You have been to plenty of shows before, seen many bands live, but this was a new experience for you. There was a strange sense of familiarity to it all as you walked onto the main floor, into a wide open space with the stage lit up, barred off only by a flimsy barricade.
It just looked so empty. The calm before the storm. The quiet echoes of voices started to grow louder as a small gathering of the crew entered into the room. You immediately felt out of place then, looking sheepishly to the floor and stepping in the opposite direction from where they were coming.
“Wait up!” A voice calls out, but you keep walking, thinking it was for someone else.
“Jeez, you walk quickly. Hang on Key Girl” you heard again, only then glancing over your shoulder. Miles half-jogged to you. “It’s good to see you again,” he said, then turned to look at the stage. “It’s pretty unreal, isn’t it”.
You admired the screens which rolled through different graphics, colours flooding onto the polished timber floors.
“I wanted to see it all from this point of view before everyone else came in,” you admit.
“So he’s got you watching from the side stage? Left or right?” Miles questioned. You didn’t exactly know what he was on about.
“I have no idea,” is your response, paired with a shaky, nervous laugh.
“He thinks his left side is his good side. If he says watch him from stage left, let me know” Miles comments with a wink.
Before you’re able to question him further on it, his name is called and he is gone, leaving you baffled.
“Doors open in 10!” Is loudly called from one end of the room, and immediately people are moving about. You see this as your sign to head back to the greenroom and prepare for the tsunami of people about to bust through those doors.
Lo and behold, the 10 minutes are up, and people are pouring into the once empty room. There is an excited chatter amongst everyone there as the place lights up from the beaming faces of the audience.
After straying from him for some time, Noah found you in a slight panic.
“Are you okay? Everything okay? Your injuries oka-“
“I’m okay. Good. Great even” you interject. Noah nods, your response not calming his jitters. It wasn’t you he was panicked about.
“What’s going on?” You ask, instinctively placing a hand to rest on his tattooed forearm. He was warm and you could feel his heartbeat pulsing quickly.
“Talk to me” you ordered, and Noah’s eyes met yours. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, and lets out the air steadily.
“Remember the interview?” He asks, and it’s the first time since you were there that you thought of it. “I should have spoken to you first. I’m sorry. I didn’t think he would put it out so quickly. I shouldn’t have looked at the comments. I should have signed off.”
“What are you on about Noah?”
He looks sheepish then, avoiding your gaze and pulling your hand into his. He led you to a beaten up sofa in the corner of the greenroom. As you sat, the small crowd in there were murmuring, throwing quick glances in your direction.
Noah goes through something on his phone, bringing up links through different social apps, before offering it to you.
You take the phone, but instead of looking at the screen, you watch the way he buries his face in his hands. His long fingers tap anxiously as he leans forward onto his elbows.
“I’m sorry. I think I fucked up” he grumbles into his hands, barely audible. “Please don’t hate me.”
“Noah, you’re acting like you killed someone” you joke, but he doesn’t respond. So you look at the screen. You see a YouTube video loaded and a very familiar scene.
From what you saw mere hours ago, it was already uploaded into the digital world.
“I’m struggling to see what the issue is here” you bump your shoulder to his, and he finally sits upright. He takes the phone from his hand and swiftly fast forwards to the near end of the video, and passes it back.
The video played, the interview ended, and a new scene of Tim appeared on the phone. Perplexed, you turn the volume up.
“You heard it here first, Noah Sebastian is off the market” he said, speaking jovially to the camera. “Accompanied by his girlfriend this afternoon, Sebastian seems to be pretty confident that nothing will change, but I want to know what his fans think.”
What happened next made your heart drop - a photo of your side profile with a small smile on your face graced the phone screen. Noah groaned and put his face back into the palms of his hands as he leant back into the sofa.
The video continued to divulge information, from your name, hometown, even your age. Hearing it all spoken by this stranger online sounded alien, you needed to go back and watch it again.
You recognise the scene in the photo, the same room the interview took place in. You can just make out the back of a camera pointing in the opposite direction of you. Someone had sneakily taken your photograph while the interview was taking place. They were on to you before you even knew what was going on.
Watching it a third time, hearing your name clearly stated once again, made the severity of the situation clear. Your secret was out. People know your face now. Your friends and family didn’t even know this much yet. But most importantly, Noah’s girlfriend?
“I didn’t see them take that photo” Noah mumbles, still hiding behind his hands. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. This fucker fucked that up. I’m so sorry.”
“Are you sorry that they got a bad angle of me?” You whisper, tugging at his arm in an attempt to release his face.
His arm drops and he looks at you quizzically.
“I don’t get it” he stares blankly, blinking as if to clear up your statement.
“I would have preferred to have better lighting” you joke, handing him back his phone. Everything inside you was panicking, screaming even to worry about this. But what was there to worry about?
People won’t like you for it, sure. But you’re not alone. Was it 100% true? You didn’t know, but that didn’t matter. What did matter was Noah and how he had got himself into a panicked state. He needed you to be calm, to help him be calm.
“Why aren’t you mad at me?”
The small gathering of people fell into a quiet, barely audible whisper. People sneakily peered in your direction, watching what unfolded between the two of you.
“Tim seems like an asshole, sure, but why would I be mad at you?”
“I just outed you to the world” Noah states matter-of-factly.
Failing to find the words, because although technically true, it wasn’t your fault, you offer him a shrug.
“And you’re not mad about it.” Noah concludes. The people in the room now being less obvious of their eavesdropping. You glance in their direction, and just like a cartoon they all scurry to appear busy. One even picked up a broom.
Your eyes are back to Noah’s looking significantly less panicked now. His state slowly became more himself.
“I’m more curious,” he admits.
“About what” he was quick with his answer.
You hesitate, but need answers.
“The girlfriend thing.”
He pauses, eyes darting between your pupils, waiting for you to look away. You don’t.
“Would you?”
“Would I what?” You press. A smile cracks on his face.
“You’re going to make me ask like we’re teenagers?”
“Damn right” you remark. His smile grows bigger.
“Would you be my girlfriend?”
“What did you mean earlier when you said ‘I should have signed off’?”
“What?” Noah stammers out. Clearly not the response he was waiting for.
“You said…,” you paused to clear your throat. “‘I shouldn’t have looked at the comments. I should have signed off.’” You look at him expectantly. His eyes widen and a light pink graces his cheeks. He begins to chew at his bottom lip and the panic starts to return.
“I… uh…” his hand raises and he rubs at the back of his neck as he looks at the wall opposite you. “Replied to some comments. Online.” He pulls a face that screams ‘I think I said something I shouldn't have’, but also one that seems smug and almost proud of himself.
“Youuuuuu didn’t.” you gasp. Knowing his history of snide comments online, things can get unhinged real quick. “What did you say?”
Noah stands and paces the room with his arms held behind his back. It looks like he is about to defend himself when people walk back into the room. The privacy of this conversation flew out the window.
Noah was taken by surprise by the sudden uprising of people in the room, standing still and watching more people walk briskly in his direction.
“Dude. Love that you’re sticking up for her. But come on.” Ruffilo states, emphasising his points with his hands. He meant no harm, but Noah was starting to get flustered.
“What else was I supposed to do?” Running his hands through his hair now, he checked the time on his phone. Folio came to his side, placing his hand on his shoulder.
“Fuck ‘em. It’s hardly the worst thing you’ve ever tweeted.” Folio seemed unfazed by this whole thing.
The comments continued to be thrown around about how they are going to handle the situation. You used the distraction to check it out for yourself. Trying your best to filter through the comments about you, you sought the Bad Omens page and saw recent replies to some comments.
Noah was defending you, putting people in their place after throwing out allegations, making memes of the photograph they used of you, and blatantly spreading rumours.
Noah, being the cool ‘I don’t use social media’ guy he is, instantly jumped into it.
There were only a handful, but the casualness of how he owned the word ‘girlfriend’ made you blush a little.
‘At least I have a girlfriend’ was one.
‘This is why we can’t have nice things’ was another.
‘Let me know when someone can finally stand your bullshit’ was the last.
Each response was calling people out, and his sassy replies were finally putting people in their place.
You scrolled through the thread reacting to his comments. And by some miracle, people were getting it. Their attitude began to change, albeit small.
Subtly as you can, you put your phone away and walk over to Noah, whine seemed to be putting up his walls as he argued with his crew.
“Look, what’s done is done!” Jolly spoke diplomatically, trying and failing to speak over the rising tide of voices.
They all looked exasperated and lost, clearly having no idea what to do. You went to Noah’s side and loosely wrapped an arm around his back, hitching a grip onto his waste. He instinctively hung an arm around your shoulders which he rubbed his thumb and forefinger on the bridge of his nose.
“You guys are really worked up over this, huh” you comment. Seeing their expressions falter to confusion confirmed your point.
“You’re strangely calm for being the epicentre of the storm,” Ruffilo laughed. It was the first time he cracked a smile since he walked in the room.
You offer a shrug in response. “Took the pressure off of me announcing it to the world.”
And for the first time, they all seemed to agree.
Noah pulls you closer to him, wrapping both his arms around your shoulders, and buried his head into your hair. You can feel light kisses being peppered into your head.
“Thank you” he murmurs loud enough for only you to hear.
“Is there always this much drama before you play a show?” You ask, and they chuckle.
You had succeeded and their guards were coming down. It didn’t take long before everyone was acting like themselves once again.
You couldn’t help but notice how Noah didn’t leave your side. Whether or not you thought it was because he still thought your injuries were worse than they really were, or that with this newfound relationship that he didn’t want to leave your side; you weren’t complaining.
Whether it be hovering his palm on the small of your back to help guide you through the hallways, offering to buy you a drink, shifting his weight and adjusting his posture any time you started to fidget by his side. It was all those small, thoughtful gestures that really made you see what kind of person he was like.
He cared for the small things, the things that would most usually go unnoticed. The straw he got for your drink, when he held the door open for you walking into any room, even the sweet glance thrown your way when he was across the room and you were mid-conversation with Jolly just to make sure your leg wasn’t bouncing with nerves again.
It just felt right.
Before you knew it, the time had come for the main act to start. Opening bands had been and gone, and the headliner was up next. The crowd sounded amped up, a thrill running through the air like electricity. The band had choreographed this, and had begun their walk down the runway. Red and white lights were beaming and twirling around the stage, the screens cycling through a cacophony of images and digital artefacts.
Just as Noah was about to walk on stage, clutching his ski mask in one hand, he looked at you with admiration. He grasped the sides of your face in his big hands and planted a kiss tenderly to your lips. You learnt into it, lingering in the fleeting moment of his warmth, almost making you feel lightheaded and swoony. When he pulled back, all too soon, he had a new sparkle in his eye.
“Watch me from stage left tonight” he ordered. Pressing a kiss on your forehead, he slipped the mask on and jogged to the stage, throwing you a wink before he fell into character for the night's entertainment.
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c4ttheart · 4 months
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taylor swift and travis kelce who ?
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it’s been about two days since the party, and god, sae wishes he never went. because now, the internet is blowing up about how he would apparently be dating you, and he is sitting in front of his exasperated manager and publicist who are desperately trying to make him understand the situation.
"why the hell would i date her ?" he spits out, venom laced in his tone. wasn’t he supposed to be a bachelor or something ?
"again, sae, it wouldn’t be real. just for a few months or so, you know ?" his manager pleads, like he has done so many times before (in vain.) the auburn haired male is about to retort a negation again, but is rudely interrupted when his publicist speaks up.
"do you not understand ? your following count has gone up by like, three million ? do you even know how many people came to your game last night just in hopes to see a glimpse of (name) in the bleachers ? do you realise how much good this would do to your reputation ? she is three times more famous than you, for god’s sake ! people are actually getting involved into soccer !" he screams out, tussling his hair beneath his hands, almost ripping his roots out.
"they call me (name)’s boyfriend." he says, voice laced with such disdain it almost gives his manager a heart attack.
"okay, maybe they do, but does that really matter when your salary has doubled ?"
and that, is how he finds himself in front of you, eating lunch, situated on a table a little too close to the window for his liking. he isn’t new to paparazzi, no, but he definitely doesn’t want to expose himself to the world like he is doing right now.
the restaurant is nothing fancy. it’s four stars, but the food is mediocre. the ceiling is white and high, littered with golden edges and big artificial chandeliers. the walls are white as well, and the structure makes him think of the fancy paris appartements, old, but beautiful. you’re sitting in front of him, another dress similar to the one from the party, albeit a bit more casual placed atop your body. outside, the sky is a vibrant blue, showcasing the contrasting yellow of the bright sun. everything screams fake and dishonest. the weather is too nice to be true for the end of november, and your uneasy expression gives away both your discomfort.
"um, so, tell me about yourself." you squeak out, fork playing with the rest of your food on your plate, avoiding his glare like you’re a little kid who just did something they weren’t supposed to.
"dunno. i play soccer. i’m twenty one, and-"
"no, not that. the real you."
he stays silent, and watches as your eyes bore into his. his brows furrow, what do you mean ? did he learn his whole practice speech by heart just for you to be uninterested in it ?
you sigh, and speak up again, "for example, i find comfort in consistent sounds. like the tapping of my heel against the floor that i know has been bothering ever since we sat down."
yes, he definitely noticed, and he cared, but he wasn’t about to make some rude remark about it, not when so many people were watching him. his brows furrow again. "i like green."
you hum, and the ghost of a smile is present on your lips. that’s good, right ?
"your eyes are green." you say, matter of factly, and he deadpans because yes, he knows that too so why are you pointing it out ?
"i know." he replies with a small gruff, as he stares at you again. you laugh, hand covering your mouth like he remembers you doing two nights ago. he doesn’t really know what’s funny, but he lets you finish, because even if you’re making fun of him, he thinks you’re pretty when he can spot your big toothy smile and puffed out cheeks. he looks away, pretending to stare at the glittering buildings in the distance.
"i originally didn’t want to be a middle fielder." he adds, and you smile again. he’s opening up.
"i originally never even thought of being a singer." you somewhat reply to him, the smile never leaving your lips even though he can tell this one is more forced than the previous one he witnessed.
but he doesn’t comment on it, he just hums. he never really was much of a talker anyways.
"who’s amaya ?" he finds himself asking instead, and his fiddles with his fingers when he hears a camera shutter nearby. you notice this, and place a hand atop of his in a way of unspoken comfort. the act causes more clicks to be heard, but you both pretend you are blind to it.
then you answer, your voice low, barely above a whisper like you are about to divulge to him some incredible secret. "my manager. she’s more of a best friend though, she takes care of me when life doesn’t."
his eyes slightly widen at your response, confused and intrigued at the same time. you aren’t blind, you see it, the lost look he gives you but you just flash your teeth at him and straighten your posture. "i’m just saying, you need a pretty good lawyer if you ever want to work in the music industry. shall we get out of here ?"
he nods, and lets you guide him to the backdoor like you have leaded the conversation. fifty hours ago, your name was one sae had briefly heard on the radio, but now, you were supposedly his and a lot more to handle than he imagined.
taglist (open)
@rroxii @hellothere9597 @melon-garden @kurowvie
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lifewithdavefarts · 6 months
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DaveFarts - Episode 26 “Critical Stink” [Episode List] During a D&D session, Tim insists that he should be immune to poison damage. The gassy-as-usual Dave makes sure he’s gonna regret such request.
POV: Tim
Critical Stink
The evil Yuan-Ti general and his minions had us cornered: the humanoid snake turned out to be a bigger threat than our team expected. Radahm, our Rogue, managed to backstab one of the lesser enemies in front of us, who then bled to death mere minutes later. Ergg, the annoying wizard, quickly casted a defensive spell to protect us but the snake-like soldiers had weapons capable of undoing any form of magic (…something we never heard of before, in our years of adventures, but OK). 
I, the brave Paladin Desal, was our team’s last hope: I could attack our formidable foes with my mighty holy sword, getting closer to the general himself, whose venomous bite was just as dreaded as the blade of his mighty scimitar. Yet, I decided to go for it, I had nothing to fear, for The High One has granted me poison immunity many moons ago. This is why The Fate brought us here… why She brought me here.
It was all leading up to this.
I rush with all of my might towards the snake general, who noticed my deft movement, his long neck dodging my sword at the last second. He hissed back at me, his mouth going for my arm.
I felt his teeth piercing through my white armor, but once again, I had nothing to fear, for The High One has granted me poison immun-
“What do you mean I’m losing HP?!”
Me (Desal), Greg (Ergg) and Adam (Radahm) were having one of our D&D sessions, which are getting rarer given how busy we are. Dave was our DM for this Quest and… we didn’t really like where this was going. 
First, that whole bullshit with Yuan-Ti weapons undoing Greg’s magic (and magic in general apparently). Never heard of such thing nor we care, even though Dave found our shock quite delightful. And then -and this is more personal-, all of the sudden, my character stopped being immune to poison… because plot I guess!
“Dude!” I scolded Dave. “I thought we agreed on this like moo- I mean months ago.”
Adam and Greg backed me up, just because the wanted to dunk on Dave than anything else.
“Gentlemen.” our DM replied, in a mockingly formal tone. “…and Tim.” he turned to me and took a sip of his beer, then resumed talking. “What I told you back then was that The High One would grant Desal poison immunity in case you rolled a Nat 20 on a Defense Roll.”
I remained silent.
“And, I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t see a 20 anywhere on this table.”
The derisive sarcasm was just as annoying as it sounded, not even considering Dave being utterly wrong about this. If only I could find those papers where we actually took note of this…
“I’m with Tim on this one.” Greg said. “Also if he dies, our quest is basically over.”
“I guess we’re done then.” I said, referring more to the fact that Greg agreeing with me was basically a death sentence to any possibility of being right. “What about you, Adam?” I asked.
“Well, I got my share of EXP by backstabbing that snake guy, so I’m gonna try running away my next turn.” he snickered.
“Team of the year.” Dave commented, amused. 
“Disgusting.” Greg remarked.
“Wow the the True Neutral Rogue doing True Neutral things I’m such a bad player.” Adam replied.
“Hey! This is not about Adam’s admirable commitment to role-playing.” I pointed to our DM. “This is about Dave making up the rules.” 
“Here’s what I have to say about it.” 
Dave, who was wearing a brown hoodie and a pair of dark blue jeans, simply leaned a bit, the wooden chair he was sitting on cracking under his weight. One of my friend’s deafening farts soon followed, the wooden surface making it even louder. Not the first one my bro ripped during our D&D session (we were all high on beer and junk food, so gas was expected), but definitely one of the louder ones. While he still casually does it, I’m pretty sure, considering that evil smirk, that this one time he simply ripped one to, well, startle me, as he knows very well how awkward I (still) get whenever Dave is so chill about my fart kink.
“I guess a storm is getting closer.” Greg commented, after the 5 seconds blast ended.
Dave quickly snapped his fingers and pointed at him. “Good call. Let’s wrap it up.”
So our DM quickly made up that those Yuan-Tis that almost killed us are afraid of thunderstorms (ripping another thunder-fart to further prove his plot point) and thus they ran away, scared, leaving us there, licking our own wounds (almost literally, given Greg rolling a 4 when he attempted to heal us).
We survived, but that was pretty underwhelming.
“So Greg managed heal me, no more poison and shit like that.” I commented.
“I’m your DM: I decide if you get to survive tonight.” Dave reminded me, that annoying sarcastic smirk drawn on his face, fully aware of how annoying he was being.
But admittedly that’s part of the fun you know.
“Well that wasn’t fun at all guys, see you in about 6 months for our next session.” Adam said, as he got up and reached for his jacket. Greg did the same.
We had one last sip of beer together and then our friends left, leaving me and Dave alone at our place. It was late, about 1:00 AM, but also a Saturday.
As me and my bro/roommate tidied up the table we just finished playing on, he decided to keep making fun of my strategies.
“The first mistake was choosing the Paladin as your class, as I told you many moons ago.” he snickered.
“Says the Wizard enjoyer. Having fun casting shit from behind the trees?” 
“Yes, because I don’t get poisoned from there. Also, I’m more of a Bard you know.” 
“I shouldn’t get poisoned, you know it. But our DM got amnesia apparently.” 
Dave laughed, rolling his eyes. “Nat 20 on Defense Roll.” he spoke slowly. “Such a difficult concept to grasp!”
We sat once again at the now clean table, opened two more beers and we kept talking.
“Look, I’m not saying that you don’t remember it. But yes, you don’t remember it.”
“I don’t remember it.” Dave insisted. “Because it never happened.”
“Literally the only thing my character is going for is poison immunity.” I stated, perhaps exaggerating, but you get my point.
“Wow immunity against the worst damage type. Congratulations, Desal! You’re a Paladin, start summoning light pillars or some other gay shit!”
“Dave, we agreed on it. I DESERVE to be immune to poison.” I insisted.
“Fine.” my friend took a quick sip of beer. “All kinds of poison?”
“Yes.” I said, satisfied. 
“…even poison gas?” Dave said, a faint smirk appearing on his face.
“Well yes of course, especially pois- I know where this is going.” I glanced at him, unimpressed.
Indeed, Dave laughed and once again leaned, another loud blast erupting from his jeans-clad ass, the wooden chair under him enduring that powerful flatulence like a silent hero. 5 more seconds of farting and he was done.
“You g-gotta admit…” I said, bravely, almost shaking for how embarrassed I was. “That’s one type of poison I’m definitely immune to.” I joked, I tried to.
“Shut up.” Dave replied, chill as usual about my fetish. “You’re tough, I’ll give you that, but Tim…” he put his hand on my shoulder, being hilariously serious about all of this. “We’re talking about my farts: one of these days you’re gonna die because of me.” 
He finished that short speech by effortlessly ripping one more quick 2 seconds rip, faking a sad expression, as if I truly was risking my life. I managed to laugh, my boner however almost hitting the table for how good those farts were, a faint smell reaching my nostrils as well.
“Come on. Let me have this at least. Poison immunity in real life!” I kept joking.
Dave looked at me, with a smirk, then turned his attention to a D20 dice we left on the table and reached for it. 
“You know…” he started talking in a tone of voice that made me think this whole thing turned into a business deal for some reason. “I can grant you your precious poison immunity… if you pass the test…”.
He was fiddling with the dice, now looking back at me. 
“Let me guess: another rule you just made up.” I said.
“Not at all! I forced you through this test so many times lately… but tonight I decide if you actually passed it.” he laughed.
I had no idea what he was talking about. Or rather, pretended not to.
“I don’t understand. Are you planning some kind of challenge?”
“Sort of. I’ll just show you how it’s going to work.”
He passed the dice to me and I just stared at it for a few seconds.
“Roll the dice, Tim.” he said, with a smirk.
I played along and mindlessly let the dice fall on the table. It rolled for a few instants and then I read the number facing up out loud. “Meh, that’s a 4. I’m just like Greg.”
In response to what I just said, Dave snapped his finger to gain my attention. As I turned to him, he leaned once again and a thunderous fart echoed in the empty living room, easily surpassing the sounds coming from the TV across the room, the wooden surface of the chair he was destroying with his gas greatly increasing the loudness of the already powerful rip.
The blast lasted around 5 seconds and… that wasn’t rocket science, I knew where this was going now. I was speechless, I had no idea Dave would even think something like this. 
“No.” I simply said, shaking my head, embarrassed. 
I stood up, leaving the dice on the table, ignoring the fact that my friend could clearly see the tent I pitched through my blue sweatpants and walked towards the couch, as I kept repeating “No”, each time my bro laughing more and more.
“Scared, Desal?” he promptly asked. 
“No!” I took a big breath, turning back to my bud still sitting at the head of the table, his eyes glued on me, his smug smirk still drawn on his face. “It’s just… come on man… I don’t want to… of course I…”
Dave stood up and walked towards me, without losing that smile, now looking a bit more chill. “You know you don’t have to worry about this, not with me, right?” he simply asked, and I knew exactly what he meant.
“Alright…” I said. “I’ll do your dumb test.”
He laughed. “This also counts as me getting my revenge for, you know, you doubting my DM skills.” 
I figured I’d just give up: Dave was gonna blast me either way, and I deeply appreciated how he wanted to make sure that no, I had nothing to worry about, he knows I have this kink, he knows I was gonna like this… but that wasn’t going to stop him from torturing me with his well-known blasts. A “revenge”, as he calls it. 
Truth to be told, as much as my boner tells you other wise… I do have my limits, and my friend’s farts sounded very nasty tonight, fueled by hours of beers and low-quality food. What made it so dangerous (and hot) is that Dave is well aware of his skills, so he knew that this was indeed going to be a test.
My bro sat on the couch and nodded at me, as if what was going to happen was completely normal, so I sat next to him. 
“So… roll for initiative?” he joked, handing the dice back to me. 
“I hate you so much.” I replied. Dave just never ceases to amaze me though.
I let the dice roll on the small table in front of us, as Dave took a sip of his beer. We both watched it bounce around for a few moments, until it stopped, a big 7 facing up. 
The fart I heard when I rolled a 4 was already impressive so… how is a 7 going to sound like? My roommate seemed to read my mind since he elbowed me, smug smile and all.
I clumsily tried to ask how, well, he was going to face-fart me this time. “What do you want me to… you k-know.”
Dave simply put the beer on the table, right next to the dice and, still silent, simply stood up, towering over me, my face already aligned with his sagging denim ass. He stepped in front of me and reached for my head, planting it on that warm ass, still stinky for all the previous farts he ripped, a faint scent of rotten pizza greeting my nose. He held my face there for a few seconds, in silence, as if he wanted me to, well, enjoy that the leftovers of his previous rips.
But now, finally, the test has officially begun: a big fart engulfed my face, my friend barely needing to push it out, ripping that blast almost effortlessly. He firmly held my head in there, as if I was going to move it away, which obviously wasn’t going to happen.
And yet, Dave keeping my face into his roaring butt, letting me take big whiffs, was always a great bonus: whether he did that because he knew my kinky ass would like it or not… I just didn’t know, but I was ok with it nonetheless… as long as he was okay with me.
He raised his left leg a bit, letting his ass roar even louder. 
The impressive flatulence lasted 9 seconds: just beautiful, but I knew this wasn’t the worst (best?) my bud was going to hit me with tonight.
Dave let my head go, turned around to stare down at me, and laughed a bit. He then sat back next to me, as if nothing gross and weird happened.
“This is how you get poison gas immunity: you gotta train those nostrils first.”
“I hate you so much.” I repeated myself, as I took a sip of his beer.
He patted my shoulder in response. “No worries, your training will resume soon.”
I reached for that cursed D20 once again and fiddled with it a bit, before going for another roll.
“How long is this test going to last?” I genuinely asked, with a hint of sarcasm.
“We’ll see.” he winked at me, while looking at something on his smartphone.
Still deciding on whether I was or not the luckiest man in the world because I have a friend like him, I went for another roll, the D20 once again bouncing on the small table in front of us. Admittedly, I sighed in relief when I saw a 2.
“Remind me to never take you to Las Vegas…” Dave commented.
Since it was 2, my bro simply spread his long legs, showing off his sagging jeans in the process, and ripped a short (but still loud, despite being muffled by the couch) toot. Small for Dave’s standards, not even 4 seconds long, but still a nice sounding fart overall.
Not that I wasn’t aware of his skills, but the fact that those were all natural, back-to-back, was almost fascinating to me. Fetish or not, I wish I had such powers.
“Still pretty impressive for a 2, I gotta say.” I said, getting more comfortable with openly acknowledging Dave’s talent. 
My roommate chuckled in response. “Such a kinky bitch.” he joked.
As my way to challenge him after that ridiculous fart, I quickly went for another roll. The dice spun for a moment until it revealed the number at the top spot, which immediately made me swallow my pride: a 16.
“Looks like you’re gonna get your ass kicked, Paladin.”
“You better shut up or I’m gonna kick yours.”
“With what? Your nose?”
As Dave (rightfully) made fun of me, he stood up once again, this time on the couch, towering over me even more than before (he had no shoes anymore, only a pair of sweaty socks).
“Just… just do it.” I simply said, horny, my heart racing fast.
Amused, my friend managed to directly sit on my head, as if I was a stool. 
“You really want me to k-kill me?”
“I’m your FM: I decide if you get to survive tonight.”
I remained silent. “FM…?”
“FM dude.” Dave kept talking, still sitting on me, as if this was such a natural way to talk to each other. “FM!”
“I don’t get it.”
“Too much blood rushing down your cock, fine.” he said, knowing exactly how true that statement was. “I’ll give you a hint then.”
Treating me like the wooden chair he soiled with his gas, Dave leaned a bit, as he pushed the next rip out… but after a few seconds nothing came out. 
“I’m brewing a big one, give me a moment.”
And we just remained there, silent, the stench of his ass almost forming a fog around me, the rough surface of his sagging jeans brushing through my hair. I heard Dave laughing, fully aware how weird that scene must have looked.
“Alright, here it comes for real. Ready?”
He didn’t even wait for an answer as an earthquake shook my skull, making my body shake down to my knees. The vibration literally made some drops of pre-cum leak out of my penis, further proof of my friend’s incredible powers. The fart, needless to say, was so loud it almost made me deaf: I wasn’t made of wood, but the sound of Dave’s blast bounced off the top of my head quite nicely, sounding like a loud, low-pitched chainsaw.
21 seconds. 21 fucking seconds. All natural, all as disgusting as it sounds. I didn’t even need to sniff as I was probably trapped in an invisible bubble of gas.
Finally, after wiggling his ass a bit so my hair would completely absorb that fart, Dave stood up, ripping a couple of small toots while doing so, and sat back where he was. He looked at me with a smirk, but couldn’t help but laugh noticing me startled facial expression.
I’ll just never get used to this.
“FM… Fart Master… Fuck you.” I said, shaking my head.
“If it's any consolation… you almost earned that immunity you wished for.”
This is all just a dumb kinky game for him. I couldn’t be happier, but also holy shit, the thin line between kink and torture was getting blurry with a friend like him.
“Just say that I earned it. It’s late, we’re both tired.” I tried to end this, not that I wasn’t enjoying it but come on, I couldn’t force my straight bud to do, well, this, even though it was his idea to begin with. 
“Fine. One last roll.” he agreed.
I shook the dice in my fist for a few seconds before finally letting it fall one last time on the table. It bounced a couple of times, I could feel the tension rising.
And finally…
No.
No fucking way.
There’s no way this wasn’t scripted somehow.
“Uhhh… Dave?” I dared to turn to him. He was already laughing.
A Nat 20, a fucking Nat 20, something that I always crave during our D&D sessions, but this fucking dice decided that a FART session was more important apparently.
“That’s gonna be a critical hit, Tim.” Dave stated, standing up again.
“No way you got that much gas already.” I bravely said.
My friend laughed again, that usual smirk drawn on his face.
“I’m just gonna blast you on command for a bit.”
The fact that he said that sentence so naturally made me leak a bit more.
“uhhh… thanks?” I said, my brain now completely devoid of any blood.
“Yeah sure, just lie down so I can put an end to this test.” I obeyed. “And also to your face, obviously.” he added, pointing down at me.
Once again, as if it was something completely mundane, Dave waited for me to lie down, so he could simply sit directly on my face, treating my head as part of the couch. Then, he just sat down on me as he said, the sagging jeans-clad asscheeks basically devouring my face. I couldn’t see anything but some details of the seams and textures of my friend’s jeans; at the same time, I felt the warmness, the stench, the sweat, all at once. I was used to my bro blasting me up close and personal, but this time it felt particularly overwhelming.
He wasn’t crushing me (I’m sure he was doing his best not to), but that doesn’t mean that I couldn’t feel most of his weight all over my face. As his ass was resting on my nose, he put one leg on the table in front of the couch and leaned a bit, so he could ease some gas out… or rather in. 
As promised, Dave was gonna fart-face me on command for the critical hit. He masterfully sucked some air in, showing off his skills smoothly. I knew this was gonna be a fucking fart concert. I was both horny and scared, because my bro is indeed the Fart Master, as he bragged earlier.
His ass stopped making noises, a sign that what came in was going to be blasted out soon.
“I mean… all of this to earn something you had all along. What a thirsty bitch.”
I heard Dave say, playfully mockin- wait what? All along? But I didn’t have time to say anything back because of the loud fart that pierced through my eyes and ears. It sounded a bit more “airy” than his previous ones, given that it was on command, but oddly enough it’s like there was a mix of natural gas in there as well: the stench of spoiled beer definitely helped prove it.
The fart lasted 11 seconds, way “shorter” than the previous ones, but as I said, this was gonna be a concert, so as soon as the first blast ended, Dave started sucked air in again, faster than before, as another ass-thunder quickly went down my throat, loud and proud as my friend does them.
Basically, this concert was gonna be one long ass fart with many interruptions.
This one was more of a series of 7 loud long rips ripped back-to-back, lasting about 3 seconds each. It was insane: it was like somebody was shooting at my face point blank with a fucking shotgun.
At this point I started to wonder whether Dave knew I was still there, as he kept ripping farts as if there wasn’t anyone lying under his ass.
Now he was sitting full-weight on me, almost making me fuse with the couch. He spread his legs wide again, as much as his sagging jeans allowed him to, so he could easily release an impressive, meaty, loud, almost wet rip all over that sweaty mess that used to be my face. Now that’s definitely a mix of natural and on-command, and the fact it was slightly wet only made the smell burn my nostrils even more.
This one fart didn’t want to end instead, my bro’s ass roared all over my face like one of those beasts we fought earlier during our D&D session. A display of cocky, disgusting manliness I’ll never get used to, given how skilled Dave is.
Finally, after around 20 seconds, his ass went silent again. I heard Dave whistle in relief.
“You ok down there bro?” I managed to heard him say. So he does know I’m still here!
He got up just a bit, his ass hovering (or rather, looming) over me, just enough to let me slip out of that gas chamber. I sat back to my place as he let his ass sit on the couch again, this time without having me under it. I managed to give a quick look at my friend, who had this silly smile on his face. He was visibly disgusted, but also oddly amused.
“Than-“ but he cut me off.
“You know, you totally earned your poison immunity bro.” he paused for a few seconds. “I mean… that’s what I’d say if you didn’t already have one all along.”
Oh, right. “What the fuck does that mean…?” I asked, sounding a bit more rude than I wanted to.
Dave laughed. “I actually found our conversation from months ago.” he showed his phone to me. “This is the part where we agreed on your immunity, but I forgot.” He chuckled.
I skimmed through the messages and, indeed, I was right.
“You sick bastard.” I sneered at him.
He found it hilarious. I found it… well, I too thought that it was hilariously hot as fuck, but I had to fulfil my role of being a pain in the ass.
“So you just wanted to torture me.”
“Not at first.” he admitted. “Then again, it’s not like I need an excuse to blast you, right?” he then said, winking at me. “Plus, I’m a Bard, I can make music with everything.” he then added, patting his ass.
I just didn’t know what to say, so I did what every mighty Paladin would have done: I simply stood up, not caring about my very visible, damp, huge boner, and went beating my meat in the bathroom upstairs.
Honestly, if Dave took his role of DM as seriously as his role of being my FM, our D&D sessions would go much more smoothly.
The End
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nolita-fairytale · 8 months
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just a lil sneak peak of what i'm cooking up for marcus second trip to copenhagen with luca & chef from 'burn your life down'
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spoilers below the cut & not proofread:
“What do you think of the blue?” Luca asks you, as you feel the display sheets, checking for softness. 
“Don’t know if the blue is what I’m going for. I was thinking of something warmer. Maybe a yellow or… I don’t know. I’ve kind of been into that trendy rust color as of late,” you reply with a shrug, moving onto the warmer colors. 
Luca chuckles and with a small shake of his head, he clarifies his previous questions with:
“No, I meant for me.”
“What do you mean?” you ask him curiously, his comment pulling all of your focus as you search his face for answers. “You just got new sheets.” 
And expensive ones too. 
But as your eyes follow his gaze, you realize that he’s not talking about sheets, focused on the XL Twin-sized duvets just above where the sheets messily along the shelf. 
“I was thinking…” Luca trails off, checking in with you before he continues, with “... maybe it’s time I get two duvets… you know… for us.” He takes a beat, and a step towards you, and you know you’ll never stand a chance against his boyish charm as one side of his mouth turns up into a smile. 
You’re no stranger to the Scandinavian duvet method – two twin duvets for one king sized bed – but it sounds like Luca’s suggestion is about way more than buying an extra duvet on this trip. 
“I want you to feel at home… at my place."
“I do,” you reply, almost instantly, a warmth spreading through your belly as you take a step towards him. 
“But I mean really… feel like it’s your home. Because it is. It could be,” Luca continues, this time with more insistence, a look of hopefulness in his deep blue eyes. 
“Are you… are you asking me to move in with you?” you manage to get out, your heart skipping a beat. 
“Why not? We could use this week to try it out,” he suggests so casually that you practically have to do a double take. “See how it goes while Marcus stays at your place?”
“Yeah I-... that sounds like a good plan, yeah,” you stammer out, the grin on your face undeniable as you nod enthusiastically in the middle of a goddamn furniture store. 
“Besides,” Luca says, clearing his throat as his tone changes to one that’s much more playful. “You’re an absolute blanket hog and a repeat offender at that.” Luca winks your way as you roll your eyes with a laugh in response. “This could prevent some of our silly little quarrels, don’t you think, love?” 
“Uh huh,” you sound, your face skeptical as you look his way again. “Preventative measures. Sure, babe.”
Luca chuckles before leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, right then and there, in the Ikea bed linen section, the place you’ll now forever think of as the place your boyfriend asked you to move in with him.
*
a/n: this is the EPL marcus fic but will also focus heavily on luca & chef!reader. the working title is 'don't you worry, there's still time' but this could change. but if i keep it, it means that both of my luca fics have titles from tegan and sara songs and i love that for us. anyways, just wanted to share!!
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racinginchid3nt · 8 months
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I’d Probably Still Adore You | Part 10
Y/N x Lance Stroll, Y/N Best Friend x Pierre Gasly
In which a night at the club and a game of never have I ever turns into something new
Inspired by 505 - Arctic Monkeys
Warnings: 18+
Previous | Next
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A hand closed around your arm mid conversation with Y/N Best Friend. Before you could turn to see why or who it was, a familiar voice said “Let’s go.”
You let him drag you away from Y/N Best Friend and towards the empty dining room, unsure of what was going on. It wasn’t until the doors closed behind you, leaving the two of you alone in the empty room, that you processed what was going on.
“Um Lance, what’s going on?”
“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?”
“We’ll in order to tell you that, I would need to know why we’re in here in the first place?” You replied.
“Spa was your first race. Why are you at this one?” He asked.
“Because I was invited?”
“So you went from no races to two back to back? And why are you at the gala right now?”
“1. Did it occur to you that maybe I like formula one? And maybe I hadn’t been invited to a race before? Not all of us can just shell out for flights and paddock passes whenever we want. 2. Because I was invited.”
“Who invited you?”
“Lance, why does it matter?” You asked.
“Can you just answer the fucking question Y/N?” He replied, frustration leaking into his tone.
“Y/N Best Friend.”
“So your not here with Norris?”
“I mean he’s my date for tonight.”
“For tonight? Or are you together?” He asked.
“For tonight. We’re not together. But honestly Lance I don’t get why you’re asking? You don’t care. It doesn’t matter.”
“No I don’t care but I still would have appreciated a heads up.”
“Lance, I don’t owe you anything. We’re not together, we’re not friends, we don’t talk. It would be weird if I had given you a heads up.”
He knew what you were saying was logical, but for some reason that comment stung a bit. As he stared at you in silence, unsure what to say to that, you came to a realization.
“Lance are you jealous or something?” You asked in a joking tone.
“No.” He replied gruffly.
“Are you sure?”
“Why would I be?” He asked.
“I don’t know. You’re the one that dragged me in here after not talking to me for a month.”
“Are you hooking up with Norris?” He asked.
“And what if I was?” You asked.
He looked at you in silence, unsure of how to respond to that. And as the moment stretched onwards, the sound of a door opening startled both of you.
Guests streamed into the banquet hall, picking their seats out at the various tables. You saw Y/N Best Friend, Pierre, Lando, Carlos, and Oscar settling down at one of the tables on the other side of the room. Stepping away from Lance, you made your way to the table. As you approached, Lando rose from his seat, pulling out the chair to his right for you.
“Where did you disappear to?” He asked, placing his arm on the back of your chair.
“Nowhere. I just got caught in a conversation on my way back from the bathroom.” You replied.
You joined in on the small talk occurring at the table, discussions of how they had spent their breaks and the upcoming race. It wasn’t long before the sound of the chair to your right sliding across the floor broke your conversation.
“Lance?” Pierre said, a hint of confusion in his tone.
“Hi guys, hope you don’t mind me joining your table. Fernando skipped so I’ve been doing double duty tonight and I needed a bit of a break.”
Everyone at the table seemed content with his response, bringing him into the small talk easily. Dinner service began, glasses of wine being filled at each seat, and courses being brought out. You had managed to forget his presence, casually talking with Lando, until your phone buzzed in your purse, alerting you to a text.
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Confused at the unknown number, you responded quickly. It wasn’t until you saw Lance pull his phone from his pocket that you realized what was going on.
Tucking your phone back into your purse, you tried to ignore him. He had no right to care, and he said it himself, he didn’t care.
Dinner continued on, dinner being served and wine topped off. But as you reached for your wine glass, you felt a hand touch your thigh. You didn’t need to look down to know who it belonged to, there was only one person sitting to your right.
You reached down, pushing the hand away, but it didn’t budge. Trying to keep from drawing attention to yourself, you ignored it. Maybe it was an accident, or maybe his hand was tired. Focusing all your energy into cutting your fish, you swallowed as you felt the hand move.
It slid up your leg slowly, moving from your knee to the edge of your dress. You reached down again, trying to move it off you. When the grip tightened you looked at him. He was mid conversation with Pierre, discussing the differences in French between Canada and France.
“So Y/N, any chance I can convince you to wear some Papaya tomorrow to Free Practice?” Asked Lando.
“Um, my paddock passes are for Alpine. I don’t think I should.” You replied.
It was then that the hand slid further up, pushing your hem higher as it moved inwards. You tried to keep the conversation going, joking about the scandal it would cause between teams and if they would kick you out of the hospitality center for wearing opposing colors. But the hand slid higher, brushing the edge of your panties, dangerously close to your core. Pulling your phone from your purse, you sent another text.
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Lance joined in on the table small talk, pretending as if everything was fine. It only took a few minutes before his fingers began rubbing you through your panties, core dampening with every touch.
A small smile slid across his face, as if someone had told him a casual joke. But your face held nothing, trying to keep expressionless so that no one would sense what was going on.
By the time dessert came out, you were practically squirming in your seat, thankful the long table cloths kept everything concealed. As you took your first bite of the chocolate cake that had come out, you felt your panties shift to the side as one finger slid into you. Coughing to hide your moan, one finger turned into two. They slid in and out of you while everyone finished their cake and the wait staff took away the empty plates.
Lance continued on, seeming totally normal. Y/N Best Friend looked at you across the table, confused about why you had slowly zoned out. Table began clearing as people returned to the ballroom, ready for more socializing.
As the fingers curled to hit your g-spot, your knee jumped on reflex.
“Are you feeling okay Y/N?” Y/N Best Friend asked.
“Yeah, I think I’ve just had a bit too much wine.” You replied through gritted teeth.
You reached down, slapping his hand away.
“I’m going to step outside for a minute, get some fresh air.” You said, sliding your seat backwards and rising from your chair.
“Want some company?” Lando asked.
“No, it’s okay. It will only be a moment.” You replied.
You made your way out of the dinning area and through the ballroom to the back hallway holding the bathrooms. Pushing the staff entrance door open, you stepping into the night. You sucked in a lung full of air, trying to calm your racing heart.
Righting your dress that had ridden up your thighs, you felt a few spots where the beads had come loose. Squirming in your chair for 15 minutes had caused them to run against the rough chair fabric, and must have been too much for the delicate beading. Adding one more thing to list of ways tonight had gone wrong, your mood began to dip.
When you heard the door open behind you, you knew who it was before they even uttered a word.
“Lance what the fuck do you want now?” You questioned, frustration filling your voice.
He looked at you, taking you in but saying nothing.
“Honestly Lance you need to go away. The nights already going to hell, you don’t need to make it worse.”
“What do you mean the nights going to hell?” He asked.
“Gee I don’t know. How about the fact that it started with me getting hounded by the fans and paparazzi at the hotel and outside the venue. Then you dragged me away for no reason. Which you followed up by crashing my table. Or how about the fact that you pushed me to the brink of orgasm, and ruined the beading on my dress?” You vented, frustration filling your tone.
“Y/N it’s just a dress.”
“Lance it’s not just a fucking dress! It’s a €3,000 dress! That’s more than my rent! But I paid it because I thought I’d enjoy one fucking night of dressing up and spending time with my best friend at a once in a lifetime event. Newsflash, not all of us spend our lives traveling the world 24/7 and get to throw money around like it’s worthless!”
You turned on your heel, giving him no time to respond before you stormed back into the ballroom. Finding your best friend and your respective dates, you gave them hugs and quick goodbyes. You blamed the wine, claiming you weren’t feeling well and that you needed to leave. Lando offered to drive you home, but you refused, having already called a cab.
And as you walked out of the event, a pair of eyes trailed after you but made no move to stop you.
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spookie-bitch · 11 days
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Jealousy, Jealousy
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Pairings: Cruella x fem!reader Contains: bit of angst but mostly fluff TW: None I can think of, lmk if there is any Summary: At one of your girlfriend's ball's to celebrate her new line, you are quite oblivious to the flirting of one of the guests. Word count: 987
An: my requests are open :)
Cruella watches as you laugh at yet another one of that battered's jokes. You had been talking with him for a good thirty minutes, and she wants nothing more than anything to walk over there and drag you away, but she can't. She would have no reason too. The only people who know about you and Cruella are Jasper, Horace, and Artie. As far as everyone knew, the two of you were just friends. She couldn't blame him of course, you looked positively enchanting in the dress she had made for you. It brought out your eyes and complemented your flawless skin, who wouldn't want you? But that didn't mean she sill wasn't fuming. You could feel her eyes burning into the back of your head but you ignored it. You knew she gets very easily jealous but she had nothing to be jealous of. You were simply chatting with the guests, trying to pass the time. Unfortunately, the guest who you just so happen to be chatting with, not so secretly facies you, you were just to oblivious to see it. "So, are you here alone?" Asks the man casually as he puts his hands in his suit pockets. "Not really," you reply with a smile, "I'm here with my friends, Jasper and Horace." You motion over to the refreshments, where the two boys have been congregating for the entirety of the ball. "Really?" He remarks with a somewhat surprised tone. It was probably fake, he knew you were here alone, at least he thought he did. Cruella's eyes stared menacingly at the two of you as she takes a sip of her champagne, her grip tightening on the glass. She couldn't hear what you two were talking about, she was too far away, she just didn't like that you were talking with him at all. "You sound surprised," you state with a chuckle. "Well I just thought that surely a lovely lady like yourself, would have someone to dance with," He retorted in a flirty voice, winking at you. Your face goes a bright shade of red when you finally realize he's been flirting with you this whole time. You couldn't believe that you hadn't noticed, you felt so dumb. You clear you throat to momentarily pull yourself together before speaking, "I'm not really much of a dancer." He seems to take the hint and frowns a bit. "It's not for everyone," he replies politely, "you have a nice night ma'am." He gives you a polite half bow before walking off. You let out a shakey breath you didn't know you were holding, relieved that he's gone. You stand awkwardly, not sure what to do, when you feel a cold hand on the back of your shoulder. "Y/n, darling!" Says Cruella states, a hit of jealousy showing through her sultry voice. "Enjoying the party?" Her grip tightens on your shoulder ever so slightly. You turn to face Cruella, your face still a shade of red from embarrassment. "It's just fine," you reply with a sheepish smile. You can see the storm brewing in her eyes as she slowly looks you up and down, a dangerous mix of jealousy and possessiveness. Her red lips curl into a smile as she meets your eyes again. "Just fine?" She asks in a slightly sarcastic tone. "I had hoped you would be having more fun that that dear," she adds, taking a sip of her champagne, never breaking eye contact. "You know I'm not much of a social butterfly," you respond, trying to lighten the tension that is hanging in the air. She chuckles, "oh I know, darling. I just noticed you seemed to have made a friend," she says, her eyes narrowing slightly. You feel your face heat up. "Just small talk really," you reply, your voice sounding a lot weaker than before, "I don't think he'll be bothering me much more." "Good," she remarks, her voice laced with possessiveness. She leans in a bit closer, her perfume mingling with the scent of champagne in the air, filing your senses. "Because I'd hate for my carefully crafted evening to be ruined by someone who's... uninvited." You nodd slowly and she pulls away, leaving the two of you in awkward silence.
"Shall we take a walk?" She asks, though you know it's not much of a question, and more of a command. She leads you out the big front doors of Hell Hall and out by the unkempt gardens. It is dimly lit, the soft glow from the ballroom casting long shadows that seem to dance in the cool night.She studies you for a moment, her eyes tracing the lines of your dress before locking onto yours. "You know, darling," she starts, her voice smooth as silk as she leans closer to you,"I don't like to share." Your face turns a vibrant shade of red, causing Cruella to chuckle. She gently lifts your chin and turns in to the side, before placing a soft, long lasting kiss where your neck and jaw meet.The warmth of her lips against your skin contrasts with the cold night air, sending a shiver through you. When she pulls back, the imprint of her red lipstick is vivid against your skin and she smiles with satisfaction.You swallow nervously, feeling embarrassed. There's no denying the power Cruella holds over you. "I think it's about time we head back, don't you, darling?" Says Cruella with a chuckle. You just nodd, not knowing what else to do in your flustered state. She smirks and fixes your hair to cover the lipstick on your neck before you follow her back into the crowded room. When you step back inside, it looks as if no one had noticed you or Cruella had been missing, for everyone was preoccupied with their own conversations. For the rest of the night you stick by Jasper and Horace, not wanting to cause another... inconvenience.
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prettyboykatsuki · 1 year
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cw ; gn!reader, injuries, conversations about mortality, age gap (reader is a little older than aki)
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"Fuck, Hayakawa - did I piss you off in a past life? Relax a little."
"Shut up," He says, exasperated. Mad really, the first time you've ever seen him so angry "You're such an idiot."
"How is this my fault? I'm just doing my job.''
The lights in Aki's kitchen are low and dark. Power and Denji are asleep in another room, something that you're thankful for. You've got your shirt off, back exposed entirely with hardly anything covering your chest.
Aki is currently nursing a wound on your back, a harsh gash that might need stitches. It's too early to tell, and you hate hospitals. That sterilized scent makes your head spin and you hate the fluorescent light. You weren't expecting to see Aki. You were on the way to where Kishibe and Quanxi were because you knew they wouldn't ask any questions.
And truthfully, you didn't really want Aki to see you like this. He found you though, passed out under a streetlight, and you were half-conscious as you leaned on him. Now you're sitting on a wood stool in his kitchen, a single overhead light making a glow on your back.
And he's pissed about it, because of course he is. You and Aki don't get along like you should. Of the hunters, you only casually hangout around Kishibe and Quanxi and some of the other soft-hearted folks. He's softened too, since Denji and Power came into the mix, but it's hard for you to not shrink back upon seeing him. Once upon a time, you used to be close though. A long time ago, it feels like.
So it's not weird sitting like this, but it is awkward. You suck some air between your teeth as alcohol stings your skin and Aki scoffs at you.
"You get a knife in your back but you can't handle some stinging?"
"Adrenaline is a good friend of mine, Aki."
""It's like you have a death wish." He says, and this time he sounds upset forreal. You don't know what to say to that.
"Once upon a time, you did too, yknow? I know it's different now, which is great but," You sigh, glancing over at him with a sigh "Don't act like you don't get it."
"I don't get you," He admits, and you can't tell if he's being gentle or sarcastic. Maybe both "Everyone knows why I'm here. But what reason do you have to be in public safety?"
You laugh a little.
"You know the way you're talking makes it seem like you care."
"...I just want to know why."
For a minute you remember that Aki is soft-hearted. That he's kind by nature, that he's warm. You feel a little bad for putting him on the spot. You tilt your head back to get a good look at his face, and you're taken back to the minutes you kissed each other on new years. Young and different.
He looks good still. Brighter.
"I wanted to do good. Everybody dies. Not everyone gets a choice. So, if I'm going to die inevitably, I hope it's for something good." You explain, laughing a bit on your own philosophy "I went out doing something that protected someone. To me, that's a good life.'
"You're a saint." He bites, sarcastic. There's a little sincerity laced in it. And you think to yourself that's right, he's always been a little like this. It's the big brother in him, the caretaker. Even when he's annoyed, he's probably trying to look out for you.
You're not the type who can accept it readily. Maybe that's why things never worked out.
"Thanks, Hayakawa. I'll cherish that."
"I'm being sarcastic." He deadpans, placing pressure on the wound. You don't laugh that time.
"Not completely though, right?"
He's silent that. You feel a little bad for making fun of him.
"No. Not completely," He replies, tiredness in his tone "You're not the kind of person who should be working here. That's what I mean."
Oh, there he goes again. Stirring your feelings up. You smile.
"You make me want to kiss you, Aki," You say with a loopy grin. You blame it on the blood loss "And for what its worth, I think you're a good person anyway."
"That so."
"Teenage angst aside," You say. He makes an annoyed expression "I don't think you're a bad kid. It's been a tough life. You didn't know what to do."
"I always knew I was probably too angry."
"Holding onto your feelings in this line of work is tough. It's a miracle you've stayed mostly the same, even though you're soft as a marshmallow now."
"Shut up." You hear him laugh, genuine and barely there.
"I'm saying you're a good person and that you've got more to take care of. Worry about me a little less and about yourself a little more."
"As if I could worry about you any less. You're worse than Power and Denji combined."
"That's harsh, man."
"I'm saying," He breathes out steady, leaning over you so the light is covered by his shadow "You're reckless. And I hate people seeing die. So don't die. At least not in front of me."
"What a funny way of saying I love you, Hayakawa."
"What happened to Aki?"
You grin.
"Sorry, Aki." You grab the hand that's on your back, trembling - locking your fingers to his nervous ones and squeezing tight "I'll try not to die instead. Okay?"
"I'm gonna hold you to it."
"I know. That's so like you."
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latteseungs · 2 years
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home run : seungmin
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home run : ksm
pairing: baseball player!seungmin x f!reader genre: fluff fluff fluff, hint of fwb to lovers, baseball player!seungmin au word count: 1.8k warnings: hint of sexual themes, cussing
✦ 。description: technically, adding your birthday as seungmin's baseball jersey number was not really against any rules
📓 .゚𓂃 masterlist | click here for my taglist feedback is always welcome! reblogs are very much appreciated <3
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“I know you’re busy. But just this once, please come to see my game?” Seungmin said, a hopeful tone lacing his voice. His eyes were still looking up at the ceiling while your head resting on his arm under you. His hands played with your hair, and you couldn’t help but feel sleepy with every stroke. You hummed in reply, inching closer to his chest and not even trying to hide how you took a deep breath to smell his comforting cologne.
Being in a purely and strictly ‘fuck buddies only’ relationship with Seungmin, you were shocked that he’s requesting something as intimate as attending one of his games. You had always thought about how Seungmin looked hot in his baseball jersey when you two met up after his training. Thinking about things that you weren’t supposed to. Still, you never really considered actually watching him play. It just seemed such a girlfriend-y thing to do. But here he was, asking you hopefully, which was kind of out of character for him.
“Why would you even want me there? I don’t know a thing about baseball,” you joked, standing up on your elbow to try and see his face.
God, this man looked like an actual puppy. His soft hair fell to his eyes, his lips curled to a shy smile, and his nose was the cutest thing. What only convinces you otherwise is when you remember how he’s in bed… now that’s a different story.
“I don’t care. Come and see me play,” his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you down to rest on top of him, “maybe you’d want me more when you see how good I am in the field.”
The way he said that made blood instantly rush to your cheeks, hiding it with a casual laugh. Rolling your eyes at him, you slapped his chest, “Yeah, in your dreams, Seungmo.”
“But seriously,” he started again, voice much in a more serious tone than earlier. “Come, okay? The game is on Friday night, and I know you don’t have night classes on Fridays.” His eyes say everything. You’re starting to think that this game means a lot to him. And the fact that he even remembers your schedule means that he actually wants you to come.
The both of you made sure that you separated your personal lives from each other as much as possible. To think that Seungmin would even remember your class schedule when you were sure that you probably just told it to him in passing made you feel… something. But that something quickly dissipated into nothing, remembering that whatever you had with Seungmin would stay that way.
“I can’t believe you even remember that,” you mumbled but finally nodded and agreed to his request. “But, okay. I’ll be there. Just make sure you’ll win.”
“Please, the fact that you’re there makes me think I already won,” he answered, sounding very cheeky.
“Hey! That sentence is against rule number three.”
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Cheers were so loud in the field that you could even hear them once you exit your car. Grabbing your things, you excitedly entered the event. You’re starting to hate yourself for how excited you were to attend this game. Both you and Seungmin have made it very clear to each other that what you both have is strictly platonic and for… needs only. Heck, you even have a list of things that you weren’t allowed to say or do, as cheesy as that sounds. The both of you have been doing great for the past months of not violating anything on that list, but right at this very moment, you just want that list to go into flames.
You just want to cheer for Seungmin and shout how great he’s doing. You weren’t lying that you have no idea what the hell happens during a baseball game, but you wouldn’t even think twice about cheering for him as loud as you can. You even wore one of his jerseys that you may or may not have stolen from his drawer once. You thought about how this would be a great surprise, considering how you attending this game sounded so important to him.
Fuck your thoughts about how this seemed too much for a fuck buddy to do. If this was crossing the line, to be fair, he did it first by even asking you to go to this game and even giving you a ticket. But that was the petty side of you talking. Deep inside the heart you thought was cold as ice, you know you also want to cross the line.
Finally finding your seat, you made it just in time for the introduction of players. The crowd cheered with each player that came out, but you couldn’t help but notice how the screams got louder when the announcer said Seungmin’s name. You lightly scoffed, thinking how it was fitting that he was a crowd favorite. But when Seungmin came out in his uniform, baseball cap and all, you felt like you were melting. You really don’t know if he was a crowd favorite for his skills or for his looks because he looked so goddamn good in that jersey.
Something was different with his jersey, though. You looked down at what you were wearing, double checking to make sure that you were really wearing one of his old ones with his name on the back accompanied by the number 22 for his birthday. Lifting your eyes back to the field, confused, your eyes met with Seungmin. His smile was huge. He covered his mouth just like he always does when his smile gets too big for his liking.
From the field, Kim Seungmin waved at you, looking extra giddy. He gestured to his jersey, pointing to the number and then pointing back at you. That’s when it clicked. You knew something was different because the number was not 22 anymore. It was your birthday instead of his.
The game started with your heart attempting to jump out of your body. Even as a student in the medical field, you know very well how that is impossible, but that is precisely what you’re feeling. Thoughts of wanting to forget about the list you made with him months ago come circling back to your mind. It was always a thought that you always pushed away, knowing that you would just both end up breaking each other’s hearts one way or another. But right at this game that you even have no idea who was winning, you finally accept that maybe being with Seungmin is worth a shot. Worth the risk.
Roaring cheers were all you could hear. The crowd went absolutely wild again when Seungmin hit the ball. The announcers were also getting excited when the ball was still going as Seungmin ran as fast as he could to the home plate. On the other hand, you dropped all your things to your seat and jumped as you cheered for him. You feel like the typical athlete’s girlfriend as you took pictures and videos of him, but you didn’t care. You were having the time of your life.
That was the thing with Seungmin. You always felt like you had all the time in the world, just enjoying his company and yourself. You forget about the stress with your academics, you forget about shitty classes, you forget about how your day was gloomy until he called. He wasn’t a breath of fresh air; you would be lying if you said that. What’s better is that he’s like the perfect song that goes on shuffle when you decide to play music because you’re having a bad day.
“Home run!”
Cameras around the arena all zoomed into Seungmin as his teammates ran to pick him up after successfully landing on the home plate. The bliss and joy on his face were something you wanted to remember and maybe think about when you just missed him.
Everyone around you was celebrating, but all you could do was stare at the puppy-like boy on the big screen, eyes almost disappearing because of his laugh. From afar, his sight found yours, and you thought you could get knocked over by how he looked at you. He was breathtaking.
He hugged his teammates one by one, but he never stopped looking at you. You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling overwhelmed— in an absolutely fantastic way. He ran to the bleachers, and as you watched him, it was your first time to feel what they call “butterflies.” You weren’t really that type of girl who grew up so in love with the concept of finding the person making you feel fireworks and butterflies. You were practical, logical, and realistic. But Seungmin just decided to walk into your life and erase all that.
“I never thought my jersey would look better on someone else,” was the first thing he said when he finally reached you. His hands instantly found their way to your waist like it was second nature to him at this point. Your cheeks were hurting from how much you were smiling, but you didn’t mind one bit, not when someone looked at you like you were their everything.
Placing your hands on his chest, you laughed at his comment, “Again, that’s against rule number three!” He huffed, pulling you in closer, making you wrap your arms around his neck. “But I think I got the wrong one?” You added, pointing out the new jersey he has on.
“Do you like it?” He smirked, knowing very well the effect he has on you. You know that you’re a closed book to everyone else, but to Seungmin, it feels like he can see every thought and feeling that runs through your veins. You didn’t even bother answering him. He knows you well enough to know the answer to that.
If you were asked if you wanted to be somewhere for the rest of your life, you would probably answer that you wanted to stay at this moment. It feels icky to even think about it because of how cheesy that sounded, but you can’t lie to yourself anymore. Right here in the middle of a celebrating audience. Right here in the middle of the bleachers in some baseball arena. Right here with Seungmin, with his hands gently laying your waist and his eyes intently looking at you with the most beautiful smile on his lips.
“Fuck the list,” you whispered before pulling him closer to you. You kissed him not like how you usually kissed him inside the bedroom, not when you’re both hot and bothered. You kissed him like you meant it. You were never good with words, so you hoped Seungmin could feel what you wanted to say with the way you kissed him.
You felt him smile for a while, pulling away with a hum. “I like you too.”
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Copyright © 2022. latteseungs on tumblr. reposts are NOT allowed.
taglist: @ckline35 , @suyesse , @idek-at-this-point-lol , @dionyseung-s , @skzpdf , @biribarabiribbaem , @http-ch1fuyu , @todorokiskitten , @Idontreallknow-12 taglist for seungmin fics: @seunglog , @sweetrabbit thank you so much for letting me tag you! i hope you enjoy <3 feel free to leave an ask to be removed ^^
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author's note: surprise! i guess! i just really wanted to drop a fic because of all the love i am still getting for the fics i uploaded :( i can't thank you enough. :(( i hope everyone enjoys this quick and short fic! i was planning for this to be a bit longer, but maybe i'll drop a prequel instead since i am obsessed with the thought of baseball player seungmin dksndsk
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themorbidwriter · 4 months
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The warm water cascaded over your hands as you scrubbed the dishes diligently, the rhythmic sound of clinking plates filling the small kitchen. It had been a long day, and as you took a deep breath, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease creeping its way into your chest. Rusty was due to arrive home any minute now. And you had taken a bold step, one that defied his authority and risked his wrath.
It had taken an incredible amount of willpower to resist Rusty's strict orders to never step foot inside the barn. No matter the circumstances, you were forbidden from entering that mysterious space. Whether it was to bring him a refreshing drink as he labored away on his beloved vehicles or simply out of sheer curiosity, Rusty had made it explicitly clear that the barn was strictly off-limits to you.
But when Rusty had left earlier in the day, heading out to run some errands, a surge of rebelliousness had washed over you, slowly overpowering the fear that had always kept you at bay. And in that brief moment of opportunity, you had made the daring decision to uncover the secret behind the forbidden barn.
you carefully placed the plates into the dish drainer, trying to calm yourself down. But before you could even take a breath, you sensed Rusty's presence behind you. His footsteps were slow, deliberate. You could feel his intense gaze burning into you as he walked closer, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders.
His touch was both comforting and unsettling at the same time. As his fingers brushed your hair out of the way, you couldn't help but feel a chill run down your spine. The air in the kitchen suddenly grew heavy, as though something foreboding was about to happen.
"Almost done with those?" he asked, his tone deceptively casual." With a forced smile, you turned your head to look at him, hoping to mask your unease. But as your eyes met his, your smile quickly faded. There was something different about his expression, something darker and more sinister than you had ever seen before.
Not wanting to provoke him further, you decided to tread cautiously. The atmosphere was thick with tension as you nodded slowly in response to his question. "Uh… yeah, I think I'll be done in a minute… why?" Your voice trembled slightly, betraying your uneasiness.
Rusty's fingers continued to stroke the back of your head, his touch alternating between soothing and demanding. Suddenly, his grip tightened, causing a sharp pain to shoot through your scalp. You winced in discomfort, taken aback by his sudden aggression. His voice dripped with a mix of anger and disappointment as he spoke. "I thought we made things clear here, (Y/N). Did we not?"
As you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to free your hair from Rusty's tight grip, a low groan escaped your lips. The pain intensified as he pulled harder, and you winced in response. With frustration etched in your voice, you asked him, "What do you mean?"
Rusty, with a frown marring his rugged face, loosened his hold on your hair and pulled you closer against his muscular chest. His voice was gruff yet concerned as he replied, "I found your hair in the barn, (Y/N). I thought we made an agreement that you weren't allowed in there at all."
You remained silent, contemplating your response, and turned your head to look at Rusty. Your eyes met his intense gaze, filled with a blend of worry and anger. Sensing your defiance, he quickly gripped your hips, causing you to involuntarily bend over slightly. His voice was commanding, almost threatening, as he stated, "Don't speak, just nod. Did you see everything?"
Feeling a mix of fear and uncertainty, you struggled to maintain your composure. But the hold Rusty had on you made it difficult to think clearly. The significance of his question dawned upon you, and with a heavy sigh, you reluctantly nodded your head in affirmation.
As Rusty Nail's intense gaze fixed upon you, the room fell silent. His eyes pierced through your very soul, leaving you with a sense of unease. In that moment, he reached down slowly, undoing the buckle of his belt. Confusion and concern crept over your features, causing your eyes to narrow as you uttered, "What are you doing?"
The silence hung in the air, but Rusty didn't offer a single word of explanation. Instead, he reached up swiftly, his rough, calloused hands finding their way to your hair once again. His grip tightened, subtly exerting pressure as he turned and began walking towards the kitchen door. The pain from his grip tugged at your scalp, forcibly coercing you to go along with him.
Your heart raced, uncertainty mingling with a growing fear. As you reluctantly followed his lead, Rusty's voice broke the silence, its coldness sending chills down your spine. "We are going to the barn."
These words hit you like a sledgehammer, faltering your steps for a brief moment. Questions raced through your mind, but instinctively, you knew defying him would only lead to further consequences. So, with a knot of apprehension forming in your stomach, you continued to walk, your feet dragging slowly behind him.
Uncertainty gripped your mind as you entered the dimly-lit barn. Shadows danced along the worn wooden walls, heightening the ominous atmosphere. Rusty maintained his hold on your hair.
As Rusty's strong grip tightened around your arm, he forcefully led you towards the old wooden table in the corner of the barn. The aroma of hay and sawdust filled the air, giving the atmosphere an earthy, rustic feel. With each step you took, his fingers dug deeper into your skin, his silent anger simmering beneath the surface.
As you reached the table, Rusty gave you a rough shove, causing you to stumble forward. Instinctively, you tried to steady yourself, but before you could regain your balance, he swiftly kicked the front of your legs, causing you to bend over the table. The sudden pain shot through your body, causing you to gasp momentarily.
With a sense of determination, Rusty pressed your wrists against the cold surface of the table. The rough texture grazed your skin, and you could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins. It was clear that Rusty wanted to assert his dominance and establish control over the situation.
"Now you wanted to be in the barn so bad, here we are," Rusty muttered, his voice laced with evident frustration. As he tightly tied your wrists to the table, his movements were swift and calculated, leaving no room for escape.
Rusty's eyes locked onto yours once more, and you could see the hunger and desire burning in them. He slowly made his way behind you, his footsteps echoing softly in the silence. You chuckled softly as you said, "Okay, so my punishment is to be tied to a table, bent over?" You raised an eyebrow, waiting for Rusty's response.
Rusty clicked his tongue against his teeth as he slammed his hand against your ass cheek. You jumped and turned your head to glare at him. "You motherfucker," you spat.
Rusty grinned wickedly as he did it again, this time harder. You bit your lip and moaned quietly, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. Rusty then pulled his belt off and grinned as he asked, "Would you like me to keep using my hand or would you like the belt?" You remained silent for a moment, your heart racing as you swallowed hard. You finally spoke, "Belt."
Rusty nodded his head and reached down to yank your pants down. Your eyes widened as you watched him raise the belt up and wave it around. "That's real leather, isn't it?" you asked nervously. Rusty folded the belt and tightened his grip on it as you said, "Is it too late to choose hand?"
Rusty chuckled wickedly as he pressed a hand against the bare flesh of your ass and rubbed it gently. "I'm already looking forward to this," he said smugly. "So yeah guess you could say that, too late."
As Rusty raised the belt high above his head, your heart pounded in your chest. You could feel the anticipation building inside of you, a mixture of fear and excitement that left you breathless. The leather belt whistled through the air as it descended towards your skin, and you braced yourself for the first strike.
The first blow landed with a sharp crack, sending a jolt of pain through your body. You gritted your teeth and clenched your fists, trying to suppress the moans that threatened to escape your lips. Rusty continued to lash out at you, each strike more intense than the last. The pain was overwhelming, but there was something else there too - a strange sense of pleasure that left you feeling both terrified and aroused.
As Rusty continued to slam the belt against your ass, you found yourself slipping into a trance-like state. Your mind became consumed with the sensations coursing through your body - the sting of the leather against your skin, the way your muscles tensed and relaxed with each blow, and the heat that spread through your core as you felt yourself growing more and more aroused.
You couldn't help but wonder if Rusty could sense what was happening to you. Did he know that he was pushing you closer and closer to the edge? Or was he simply enjoying the power he held over you? Whatever his intentions, you knew that you were completely at his mercy - both physically and emotionally.
As Rusty finally lowered the belt and stepped back, you felt a wave of relief wash over you. But it was quickly replaced by a sense of longing - longing for more. You wanted him to continue, to push you further than you'd ever been pushed before. You wanted him to make you feel things that you'd never experienced before.
Rusty seemed to sense your desires, because he didn't leave just yet. Instead, he moved closer to you and ran his fingers over the welts that covered your skin. You moaned softly as he traced each mark with his fingertips, sending shivers down your spine. "You're so beautiful like this," he whispered in your ear, sending chills down your spine. "I could get used to this."
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. The adrenaline pumping through your veins was both exhilarating and terrifying. You knew that you couldn't keep pushing yourself like this forever, but the thought of stopping now made your stomach twist in knots. You wanted more, needed more, and you knew that Rusty could give it to you.
He moved closer to you once again, his eyes fixed on your body as he traced the welts on your skin with his fingers. You felt a shiver run down your spine as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Do you want more?" he whispered, his voice low and husky.
You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you were ready for what came next. But then Rusty's hand slipped lower, tracing the curve of your hip and sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You moaned softly, unable to resist the pleasure that was building inside of you. Rusty's hand moved lower still, slipping between your legs and sending a wave of heat through your core. You felt yourself growing wetter by the second, and you knew that you were completely at his mercy. He could do anything he wanted to you now, and you would let him.
As Rusty's touch sent shivers down your spine, a mix of fear and desire coursed through your veins. Fear of the unknown, fear of the intensity of what was happening to you, but also desire for more, for more of this intense pleasure that left you breathless. Rusty's fingers moved faster now, teasing and tormenting you in equal measure. You felt yourself slipping further and further into a haze of pleasure, your mind foggy with desire.
Rusty's touch was both gentle and firm, sending waves of pleasure through your body that left you trembling with anticipation. You could feel yourself growing closer and closer to the edge, your muscles tensing and relaxing in time with his rhythm. And then, just as you thought you couldn't take any more, Rusty pushed you over the edge. His fingers moved faster and faster, sending waves of ecstasy through your body until you were screaming out in pleasure and your fingernails dug into the wood of the table as Rusty reached down and gently brushed the hair out of your eyes just so he could see your face as you moaned in ecstasy.
Rusty's lips curled into a smirk as he traced a line down your neck with his tongue, sending shivers down your spine. You couldn't help but moan as he continued his exploration, his touch sending electric currents through your body. His fingers found their way back to your core, and you felt yourself growing wetter and wetter with each passing second.
As Rusty's fingers delved deeper into your depths, you felt yourself slipping closer and closer to the edge once again. Your breath came in short gasps as he continued to work his magic, his touch both gentle and firm, sending waves of pleasure through your body that left you trembling with anticipation.
As the waves of pleasure subsided once again, Rusty leaned in close to you, his breath hot against your ear. "Do you want me to stop now?" he whispered, his voice low and husky. You hesitated for a moment before shaking your head firmly. "No," you said softly. "I want more."
Rusty's eyes darkened with desire as he pulled back slightly, his gaze locking with yours. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low and seductive. You nodded eagerly, unable to resist the intensity of his gaze or the heat that seemed to emanate from his body.
"Yes," you said, your voice barely a whisper Rusty wasted no time in focusing his attention back to your most sensitive area, pushing each wave of pleasure to its very limits until you were begging him to stop. But he didn't. Instead, he continued to tease and tantalize you until you were on the verge of another orgasm, and then just as you thought you couldn't take it anymore, he stopped.
He let his hands roam your body, caressing your curves and sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. Rusty leaned back and ran his palms up your legs until they reached your inner thighs. His eyes were blazing with intensity, and he brushed his fingertips lightly against your most sensitive area, eliciting a shudder from deep within you. You gasped and writhed beneath his touch, the sensations almost too intense to bear. He seemed to revel in your pleasure, taking his time to explore every delicious inch of you. A low moan escaped your lips as he kissed and suckled your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.
Rusty let out a throaty chuckle and pressed his lips against yours. He kissed you passionately, with a hunger that couldn't be contained. His hands moved up your body, tracing a path of desire and pleasure. His touch sent shivers of bliss down your spine and made your entire body quiver with anticipation.
He parted your legs and eased himself between them. His hard cock rubbed against you and you felt the heat radiating off his body. You moaned in rapture as his manhood pressed against you. He moved his hips, rubbing himself against you as if in a tantalizing dance, making your nipples harden and your skin flush with desire.
His thrusts were slow and gentle at first, gradually growing in intensity as you cried out in pleasure, loudly calling his name. It was like a beautiful symphony of pleasure that was growing stronger with each moment, your body trembling beneath Rusty's thrusts. His fingers tangled in the strands of your hair as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. You clung tightly to his body, your moans reaching a feverish pitch, and the room began to spin around you as you reached the peak of ecstasy. Finally, with one last thrust, Rusty's body shuddered with pleasure as he spilled himself inside you.
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